Remi-Boi
Florida-Man
Chapter Two
13:00, January 7, 2287
Oregon, North-Western USA
City of Newport
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kyle woke, an icy floor of a cell beneath him, his mind throbbed with pain. The cold pacific air blasted at his exposed upper body. There was also a crude bandage around his gut, a throbbing pain encompassing that area too.
"What the hell......" He muttered, trying to recollect his thoughts of what had happened. He looked around for any indication of where he might be. He saw the scrap iron bars of a prison cell encased around him. A walkway, where what appeared to be a figure in T-45 standing above him, holding a laser rifle. He was surrounded, but not by his captors, but other victims, their moans and cries now filling his ears. Then he began to remember...
-Three days earlier-
"Keep them off our flank!" Kyle shouted, firing a burst from his automatic Plasma Rifle. He checked his makeshift cloth webbing, he had three magazines left, and a plasma grenade in a pouch on the back of his belt. "Damn it... we won't hold against the next wave..." He looked around at his defenses, he and several civilians had formed a small militia, a desperate defense against what seemed an unstoppable enemy. He had rigged his protections to act as additional soldiers, having a laser encased in their arm's helped plenty. It was maybe the only reason they had lasted as long as they have. He checked around the sandbag position, there were fourteen, fifteen maybe left.. "No. This won't do at all.." He thought.
He grabbed his handheld radio off the webbing clip, activating it. The static cut to blankness, and he shouted. "The defenses are almost compromised, have you finished laying the mines yet?" The sound of the priest responded. "Caroline's dead. As well as Kasparov. The mines are set. And the rest of us are alive, we've gathered the villager's. We're heading south, to whatever power you call the NCR, we'll keep you in our prayers.. are you sure you do not wish to escape..?"
Kyle thought a moment, then sighed. "No. I'm gonna delay the Brotherhood as long as possible, keep going south until you see the flag of the Bear. Then you have reached the right place, tell them of what happened. And keep the people safe!"
"I will Kyle.. and.. thank you.." The radio cut, combat was beginning to start up again as Brotherhood forces converged on his position. He looked to his left, three of the militiamen and women were cut down by four figures in T-45, one lead by a T-51, who appeared to be the squad captain. Kyle grabbed his Plasma Grenade pouch, taking out his Grenade, he primed it. He began to count to himself.
"5...4...3..-" He, though exhausted for the hours of exhausting firefight, threw it with enough force for the grenade to reach the position of the Brotherhood soldiers with around a second to spare. The Brotherhood soldiers had barely any time to react, and two were killed in the resulting explosion. The remaining two thrown, and most likely wounded. He heard a Gatling Laser erupt behind him, and the fall of Protectrons.
"Kill....kill............kill..." Then there was silence.
He felt as if he was enclosed now, he looked around for the source of the shooting. his aim shifting rapidly, attempting to find where the noise came from. Then he heard the crack of a 10mm pistol. He bent over, pain erupting from his lower body. He dropped his rifle, stumbling back against one of the many piles of sandbags he had laid down. He slumped against it, holding his gut. Then he saw him, and as he did, his vision faded, and he went into shock.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wedderburn, Oregon
Ranger Julia took a knee into the snow drift, bringing her binoculars up to her eyes. It was her fourth day of pursuit of the assailants. She had finally tracked them down after briefly loosing contact with them through a blizzard the day before. They seemed Brotherhood enough, but they had stopped at every small town, collecting a racket of caps. "These guys can't be just be street thugs, not with that armor.." She muttered to herself. The Brotherhood group had settled down, constructing a camp, a few tents stood around, with what appeared to be.. no... slaves..? She haw several figures, normal people, ghouls, and even a super mutant, all wearing a explosive collar. They seemed to be the ones constructing the camp. The Brotherhood soldiers just stood guard, or were now seemingly "encouraging" them with cattle prods.
"Sick Bastards, screw orders. These guys can't be Brotherhood.." She thought to herself, unslinging her Anti-Material Rifle. She went prone, resting her rifle against the snow. She looked through the scope, beginning to select targets. She was not gonna let some slaver juggernaut wannabees make their caps.
She adjusted the sights on what appeared to be their leader. A heavyset figure in a suit of T-51. His bright markings, paired with his physique made him the perfect target to start with. She slowly squeezed the trigger. "Bye-Bye Bandit." She muttered.
The echo of the shot went on for miles. A shot that sure, removes the head from a scumbags body. But, the significance of the shot was for her, a war on what she believed in, and she'd not let people be enslaved.
In the following seconds, chaos erupted in the camp, men running in every direction, though their Power Armored bulk made it just so easy for her to pinpoint them, and pump lead in the form of 50. cal shots in every black soul.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
California, Shady Sands
NCR Congress Hall
Bickering and heated arguments filled the room of NCR Congress. Sure the NCR was seeing their "Golden Age" but that did not stop many factions at odds from pointing daggers at each others throats. The Issue was not taxes, which there were protests erupting across the Mojave. It was not the fugitive, Legate Lanius who escaped the battle years before, and was attempting to rebuild the Legion in eastern Arizona. Nor was it Baja, which a previously tiny insurgency whom wished to be reunited with a reforming Mexican government under the Republic of the Rio-Grande, gaining traction. Sure the Rio-Grande republic refused to recognize the insurgents, though it did not stop occasional IED's along the roads from claiming a caravanier. But none of these was the hot topic being discussed as of current. The main issue of the committee chaos was up North. As of two days prior, the NCR army had conducted one of the largest operations in its history. It was not open battle, but rather the crackdown of the Barons in the north. The NCR Congress had scrounged enough of a "Warrant" to conduct mass arrest of confirmed and suspected Brahmin Barons. Small Skirmishes had been sprinkled here and there, but otherwise the operation went off without bloodshed. But why the fuss, why the havoc filling the congress room? Well no one knew what to do with the resulting Barons. Sure, they were guilty, but there was no judicial process to handle so many criminals.
The crowd began to calm from the previous fury of words as order was called. "Hear me fellow countrymen!" The shout echoed across the halls, a person stood upon the desk. His name was Joseph Carver. Many saw him as a suspicious figure. He had previously apart of the NCR Internal Security branch of Intelligence. And he had oversaw the "Mojave Massacre" Where several Enclave personnel were executed. As well as several more "Possible Accomplices" in Novac and Freeside, even some Follower of the Apocalypse were not spared in intense scrutiny and prejudice if it was assumed they could have aided an Enclave member. This of course, lead to Joseph being held in high regards, by some, and a cautious worry, or even fear by others. But none could doubt his charismatic personality.
"Fellow countrymen," his voice lowered as the crowd now became silent. "It has been much pain and suffering this country has endured, by which the hands of the Barons fall responsible for much of that pain. Hereby I commend your patience with eachother on this sensitive topic. And your morality with the fate of these men's lives. But as I see it, they are but scoundrels and traitors to this country. And traitors shall meet their end as any traitor shall. Cold, yet righteous execution."
Great applause erupted throughout congress, while many others seemed to shrink at the idea of such a radical idea. A majority had been achieved, thus breaking the deadlock. Time would only tell of the repercussions of the decision they had made.
13:00, January 7, 2287
Oregon, North-Western USA
City of Newport
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kyle woke, an icy floor of a cell beneath him, his mind throbbed with pain. The cold pacific air blasted at his exposed upper body. There was also a crude bandage around his gut, a throbbing pain encompassing that area too.
"What the hell......" He muttered, trying to recollect his thoughts of what had happened. He looked around for any indication of where he might be. He saw the scrap iron bars of a prison cell encased around him. A walkway, where what appeared to be a figure in T-45 standing above him, holding a laser rifle. He was surrounded, but not by his captors, but other victims, their moans and cries now filling his ears. Then he began to remember...
-Three days earlier-
"Keep them off our flank!" Kyle shouted, firing a burst from his automatic Plasma Rifle. He checked his makeshift cloth webbing, he had three magazines left, and a plasma grenade in a pouch on the back of his belt. "Damn it... we won't hold against the next wave..." He looked around at his defenses, he and several civilians had formed a small militia, a desperate defense against what seemed an unstoppable enemy. He had rigged his protections to act as additional soldiers, having a laser encased in their arm's helped plenty. It was maybe the only reason they had lasted as long as they have. He checked around the sandbag position, there were fourteen, fifteen maybe left.. "No. This won't do at all.." He thought.
He grabbed his handheld radio off the webbing clip, activating it. The static cut to blankness, and he shouted. "The defenses are almost compromised, have you finished laying the mines yet?" The sound of the priest responded. "Caroline's dead. As well as Kasparov. The mines are set. And the rest of us are alive, we've gathered the villager's. We're heading south, to whatever power you call the NCR, we'll keep you in our prayers.. are you sure you do not wish to escape..?"
Kyle thought a moment, then sighed. "No. I'm gonna delay the Brotherhood as long as possible, keep going south until you see the flag of the Bear. Then you have reached the right place, tell them of what happened. And keep the people safe!"
"I will Kyle.. and.. thank you.." The radio cut, combat was beginning to start up again as Brotherhood forces converged on his position. He looked to his left, three of the militiamen and women were cut down by four figures in T-45, one lead by a T-51, who appeared to be the squad captain. Kyle grabbed his Plasma Grenade pouch, taking out his Grenade, he primed it. He began to count to himself.
"5...4...3..-" He, though exhausted for the hours of exhausting firefight, threw it with enough force for the grenade to reach the position of the Brotherhood soldiers with around a second to spare. The Brotherhood soldiers had barely any time to react, and two were killed in the resulting explosion. The remaining two thrown, and most likely wounded. He heard a Gatling Laser erupt behind him, and the fall of Protectrons.
"Kill....kill............kill..." Then there was silence.
He felt as if he was enclosed now, he looked around for the source of the shooting. his aim shifting rapidly, attempting to find where the noise came from. Then he heard the crack of a 10mm pistol. He bent over, pain erupting from his lower body. He dropped his rifle, stumbling back against one of the many piles of sandbags he had laid down. He slumped against it, holding his gut. Then he saw him, and as he did, his vision faded, and he went into shock.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wedderburn, Oregon
Ranger Julia took a knee into the snow drift, bringing her binoculars up to her eyes. It was her fourth day of pursuit of the assailants. She had finally tracked them down after briefly loosing contact with them through a blizzard the day before. They seemed Brotherhood enough, but they had stopped at every small town, collecting a racket of caps. "These guys can't be just be street thugs, not with that armor.." She muttered to herself. The Brotherhood group had settled down, constructing a camp, a few tents stood around, with what appeared to be.. no... slaves..? She haw several figures, normal people, ghouls, and even a super mutant, all wearing a explosive collar. They seemed to be the ones constructing the camp. The Brotherhood soldiers just stood guard, or were now seemingly "encouraging" them with cattle prods.
"Sick Bastards, screw orders. These guys can't be Brotherhood.." She thought to herself, unslinging her Anti-Material Rifle. She went prone, resting her rifle against the snow. She looked through the scope, beginning to select targets. She was not gonna let some slaver juggernaut wannabees make their caps.
She adjusted the sights on what appeared to be their leader. A heavyset figure in a suit of T-51. His bright markings, paired with his physique made him the perfect target to start with. She slowly squeezed the trigger. "Bye-Bye Bandit." She muttered.
The echo of the shot went on for miles. A shot that sure, removes the head from a scumbags body. But, the significance of the shot was for her, a war on what she believed in, and she'd not let people be enslaved.
In the following seconds, chaos erupted in the camp, men running in every direction, though their Power Armored bulk made it just so easy for her to pinpoint them, and pump lead in the form of 50. cal shots in every black soul.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
California, Shady Sands
NCR Congress Hall
Bickering and heated arguments filled the room of NCR Congress. Sure the NCR was seeing their "Golden Age" but that did not stop many factions at odds from pointing daggers at each others throats. The Issue was not taxes, which there were protests erupting across the Mojave. It was not the fugitive, Legate Lanius who escaped the battle years before, and was attempting to rebuild the Legion in eastern Arizona. Nor was it Baja, which a previously tiny insurgency whom wished to be reunited with a reforming Mexican government under the Republic of the Rio-Grande, gaining traction. Sure the Rio-Grande republic refused to recognize the insurgents, though it did not stop occasional IED's along the roads from claiming a caravanier. But none of these was the hot topic being discussed as of current. The main issue of the committee chaos was up North. As of two days prior, the NCR army had conducted one of the largest operations in its history. It was not open battle, but rather the crackdown of the Barons in the north. The NCR Congress had scrounged enough of a "Warrant" to conduct mass arrest of confirmed and suspected Brahmin Barons. Small Skirmishes had been sprinkled here and there, but otherwise the operation went off without bloodshed. But why the fuss, why the havoc filling the congress room? Well no one knew what to do with the resulting Barons. Sure, they were guilty, but there was no judicial process to handle so many criminals.
The crowd began to calm from the previous fury of words as order was called. "Hear me fellow countrymen!" The shout echoed across the halls, a person stood upon the desk. His name was Joseph Carver. Many saw him as a suspicious figure. He had previously apart of the NCR Internal Security branch of Intelligence. And he had oversaw the "Mojave Massacre" Where several Enclave personnel were executed. As well as several more "Possible Accomplices" in Novac and Freeside, even some Follower of the Apocalypse were not spared in intense scrutiny and prejudice if it was assumed they could have aided an Enclave member. This of course, lead to Joseph being held in high regards, by some, and a cautious worry, or even fear by others. But none could doubt his charismatic personality.
"Fellow countrymen," his voice lowered as the crowd now became silent. "It has been much pain and suffering this country has endured, by which the hands of the Barons fall responsible for much of that pain. Hereby I commend your patience with eachother on this sensitive topic. And your morality with the fate of these men's lives. But as I see it, they are but scoundrels and traitors to this country. And traitors shall meet their end as any traitor shall. Cold, yet righteous execution."
Great applause erupted throughout congress, while many others seemed to shrink at the idea of such a radical idea. A majority had been achieved, thus breaking the deadlock. Time would only tell of the repercussions of the decision they had made.