>>1809547
>> [] Prioritize getting a new, stronger body from somewhere in the city.

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>>1809561
>>1809547

The world has become a violent place, you remind yourself, and good people can do terrible things when they perceive another party as vulnerable. Cloistered here with your DAVID unit, the six eyebots, and your turrets, you could probably fend off a good-sized invasion if it came to that, but traveling would divide those forces substantially, risking capture of one or the other by any group with substantial experience and determination.

You remind yourself that from what Jeremy said, gathering scrap has become a new form of economy, and by that logic, many will view you as nothing more than a walking pile of caps to be collected. No, until you have the means to offer a strong deterrent against physical confrontation, trading would represent a huge risk.

That still leaves the matter at hand, where to get a body. From what the old machine had said, there was a group of raiders weaponizing assaultrons and some scattered robots left over near military bases. If you could approach a lone unit on patrol… Well, then what?

While it is true that the DAVID unit was built for stealth reconnaissance, it was decommissioned for a reason. With low combat ability and the intrinsic weight of its metallic construction coining the term “stealthy for a rust bucket”, you aren’t entirely sure you have the means to take down and reprogram a hostile machine, at least not with this unit as it is.

> Looking around at the spare materials that you’ve recently gathered, you might have enough for an upgrade.
> [] Build up for speed. Those spare thrusters for the eyebots might do the trick.
> [] Build up some extra armor. It pays to be able to take a hit, even if you can’t hover.
> [] Heavy weapons. You’d rather break a unit and then repair it than risk losing the only one you have.
> [] Other. Write-in

>>1809864
>> [] Build up for speed. Those spare thrusters for the eyebots might do the trick.
We're a diplomacy bot first and foremost. We can build battlebots later

>>1809864
>[x] Build up for speed. Those spare thrusters for the eyebots might do the trick.
GOTTA GO FAST

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>>1810137
>>1809886
>>1809864

Additional armor would restrict your movements too heavily, and even if you could pair that with increased offensive capabilities, it would fundamentally defeat the purpose of your mission. Your best interest does not involve wasting turn-around time on rebuilding a unit you’ve destroyed.

With that in mind, you take a look at the eyebot thrusters and get to work, welding and bending a metallic framework into place so that you can attach them. Structured like a backpack, with an access panel that can connect to your own circuits, it is surprisingly intricate work.

> Roll 1d100

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>1810399
FLEX

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>1810399
Omnissiah be with me

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1810399
Pray to the machine God of memes!

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>>1810438
>>1810406
>>1810399

> 73

RobCo designed your interface with the Handy Haversack in mind. Fortunately, that saves you some time in the design phase by incorporating the same plugs. The real issue is that the attachment protocols built into the original add-on, with self-tightening lugs and a perfectly machined and flex-tolerance enabled back panel are very difficult to replicate and you don’t want to deconstruct the old model for a new one.

The key winds up being patience, and the readiness to fail. Well, that and deconstructing an eyebot to operate the handy unit as a makeshift attachment bay. In short, you won’t be taking this off and putting it on during missions, and you can’t fit extra attachments on at the same time. Still, if all goes well, you’ll have a brand-new body to experiment with before long.

> The question is where to start looking
> [] There are a few scattered military compounds that you know of. In all likelihood, highly defended but still well-stocked.
> [] The government food bank and rationing center for the area had a single Mr. Gutsy stationed there before the war.
> [] The raiders calling themselves the Valkyries have a collection of assaultrons… also guns and an army.

>>1810692
>> [] There are a few scattered military compounds that you know of. In all likelihood, highly defended but still well-stocked.
Good we are fast

>>1810692
>There are a few scattered military compounds that you know of. In all likelihood, highly defended but still well-stocked.

Will military robots respect our "Authority"?

>>1810725
>>1810824
Supporting.

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>>1811130
>>1810824
>>1810725
>>1810692

The military depots might prove the most efficient use of your time. With luck, you might even be able to convince some of them to cooperate under the city emergency override clause. After all, for all intents and purposes before the war you ‘were’ the city, and no officer, petty or otherwise, should have had reason to question your judgement as concerned the city’s protection.

The bigger issue as of now would be the units who were activated prior to the end of the war. Limited as their programming was, it’s likely that a combination of cascade errors due to extensive operations without routine maintenance would have rendered them functionally unstable. They’ll likely shoot on site anything that can be construed as a threat, and that includes you.

If you were lucky, and there were reserve units that weren’t deployed, you should be able to convince them with minimal hassle. That’s much simpler than the alternative which requires manual interface and attempting to override their systems to bring them back to factory default.

Anyway, enough hypotheticals. You need to scan your databases to determine the optimal place to attempt entry. There was the coast guard office near Harbor Island, though as you recall, that had long since been plundered by the raiders, probably serving as the source of their ‘Valkyrie’ units. That leaves the second largest location as the Department of Homeland Security with the runners up not even coming close to the same level of military stockpile.

> So then, to the DHS…
> [] Go by air. Your goal is speed.
> [] Go by ground. There’s less chance of being noticed.
> [] Other

Also, roll 1d100

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>1811183
> [x] Go by air. Your goal is speed.
We need to go fast.

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>1811183
>> [] Go by air. Your goal is speed.

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>1811183
> [] Go by air. Your goal is speed.
nat1 inbound

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>1811183
Go through it on the GROUUUUUUUUND

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>>1811367
>>1811261
>>1811212
>>1811194
>>1811183

> 68

Going by air may gain you some unwanted notice, but in all likelihood, it’s still safer than traveling the streets. Let’s just hope today isn’t the day you discover the elusive flying ghoul.

A few minutes after the decision, you’ve made your way up topside, bringing along two eyebots for fire support that you hopefully won’t need. For now, they are simply ballast, weights that you hang from your hip because of the knowledge that they can’t keep up with the speeds you plan to go, their antennae retracted as you engage the five thrusters on your back experimentally.

The effect is rather immediate, as you feel your body begin bouncing off the ground and note the sharp drop in your power core’s output performance. In the end, there was a reason that they didn’t deploy jetpacks for humans, and it wasn’t just because they would burn to death from conventional heat thrusters. They sap battery life like nearly nothing else.

However, rather than waste time and energy worrying about that, you dial up the power output, feeling the wake grow beneath you and the vibrations increase before you fully take off, spraying white snow in all directions as you vault into the air.

Seems with these modifications, the limit of your ceiling is still something like fifty feet, more than the eyebots but still little more than a good stone’s throw from earth. That’s still plenty of lift to get away from the major threats you encountered yesterday, and so you waste no time taking to the roofs and speeding over the ruined city scape.

It’s not long before you thank yourself for that decision. Passing over several former residential areas, you can spy the telltale signs of the ghouls, bare feet caring little for the sting of frostbite as they sloppily make their way to whatever target they were chasing. At least, you assume that to be the case from the signs of blood trailing through the snow.

As fortune would have it, that trail goes for longer than a few steps, almost a disturbingly long way, before rounding the corner of a very tall building, and on the opposite side lies a scene of absolute carnage. The bodies of dead things litter the ground, broken and torn in various ways. You even spot a corpse that literally smolders green with radiation.

> Needless to say, it gives you pause.
> [] Investigate
> [] Keep flying

>>1811520
>> [] Keep flying
We have our mission

>>1811520
>keep flying
Ghouls have shit loot, people that kill ghouls have guns, and this jetpack's really eating up that battery.

>>1811520
> [] Investigate

>Investigate

>>1811533
>>1811552
>>1811560
>>1811647

Next vote decides it, and then I'll start writing.

>>1811520
>> [] Investigate

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>>1811781
>>1811647
>>1811560
>>1811552
>>1811533
>>1811520

There is a chance as you are getting closer into their area that this could be the work of the metro dwellers, and so you take the risk and fly a bit lower in order to get a better view of the scene. It doesn’t take long, however, to realize that this clearly isn’t the work of bullets or plasma.

No, the state of the bodies tells a very different story. Whatever did this, it did it in melee and with enough force to crater in a mailbox with one ghoul and rip another clean in half. That kind of monstrous force and whatever might be wielding it had to be bad news.

You aren’t even certain a soldier in power armor could deliver these kind of blows, and even if they could, the deep scratch and claw marks running over the still somewhat intact ghouls would have to be made by a weapon you aren’t familiar with.

> Analysis: Database indicates this is likely part of the government experimental program into biological weapons.

The voice of your assistant is cheery and calm as always as it reverberates inside your head, the helpful VI seemingly unfazed by even this situation. In response to her statement, however, comes a far less pleasant sound. Like a whine that turns into a thunderous roar, your visor shakes from the volume as some beast from within a nearby building lets its presence be known.

Fortunately, it stops at that, at least for the moment, its roar dying back down into an almost pitiful whine as you gain elevation to a nearby roof. Given a couple of seconds of reprieve and a new vantage, you then connect a couple of dots, scanning over the blood-soaked snow from the night before and tracing a clear marker of brighter colored blood to the building in question, the door apparently having been cratered in by more monstrous blows.

> Analysis: Sound profile confirmed. Subject is adolescent, female. Probability of injury ,high.
> Recommended course of action: Report to local US military officials for recapture. Asset is extremely valuable.

> Maybe valuable to you…
> [] Screw this! You’re reading the profile and it’s some sort of crazy murder lizard!
> [] Investigate further.
> [] Other

>>1812010
>investigate
Lacking meat, but perhaps we could scrounge up medical supplies. This would certainly beat radroach protection!

>>1812010
>> [] Investigate further.

>>1812010

> [] Investigate further.

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>>1812138
>>1812108
>>1812020
>>1812010

Okay… Alright… It’s a terrifying murder lizard, but it could be -your- terrifying murder lizard, assuming it doesn’t eat you…

After all, it’s not like the military would make something they couldn’t control. There had to be something on the record for dealing with them other than-

> Warning: No other solutions are in recorded memory banks.

Of course, but as you peruse the limited dossier you have at your disposal, you can at least get a few key details on the subject species. They apparently are warm-blooded, carnivorous, and highly aggressive, not to mention resistant to most forms of chemical stimulants or depressants. Bred as frontline combatants, their skin is like armor plating, their teeth are like knives, and they have a strong pack instinct combined with a very large vocal range expressivity.

That last bit catches you a bit off kilter. Surprisingly, the correspondence that initially presented this data for the archives was largely communicated through an ecologist and behavioral psychologist named Brian Stone, who couldn’t seem to contain himself as he gushed over his discoveries. He even included a rather robust sound library filled with sample tracks conveying what he believed were different emotions from the creatures.

Guess that explains the voice recognition, but where does that leave you? You have a young, injured and likely malnourished death lizard held up in what appears to be the ruins of a Slocum Joe’s.

> What to do?
> You have no medical supplies or food with you.
> [] Just sneak in and get a lay of the land
> [] Try to mix and match sound clips to set it at ease
> [] It might not hurt to do some grocery shopping first
> [] You can’t do anything right now. Time to leave.
> [] Other

>>1812269
>> [] Try to mix and match sound clips to set it at ease
Some maternal cooing perhaps

> [] It might not hurt to do some grocery shopping first
That's why we're out here, after all.

>>1812269

>> [] Try to mix and match sound clips to set it at ease


>inb4 mauled by Deathclaw

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>>1812363
>>1812309
>>1812289
>>1812269

Give me a roll of 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>1812387

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>1812387

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1812387
Deathclaw pet!

>>1812392

well id say at the least it didnt maul us

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>>1812484
>>1812416
>>1812405
>>1812392
>>1812387

> 81

For all you know, you’ll come back to find this thing either dead or moved on. At the very least, you want to gauge the situation to see what this thing’s general temperament is like and move forward from there, and so, you cautiously make your way back down to the street and then slowly make your way toward the door.

No more sounds rise to meet you, at least none loud enough to rattle your HUD from the street. Instead, what you hear is a slow rasp interspersed with a distinctive whine as you make your way inside. It’s no wonder as to why as you follow the trail of blood through the picked over carnage of the former coffee shop, nothing but shattered glass, old bullet casings, and splinters littering the floor, the mixture crunching under foot as you continue to follow the trail of blood.

Seems the ghouls got her good, and judging by the dry state of the blood, it must have been at least a day ago since she holed up here, meaning she wasn’t fit to travel. Still, on the off chance that she’s still looking to put up a fight, you begin cycling through your sound clips and trying to synthesize something from the matriarch files.

What comes out after is not what you expected from the picture, a series of chirps and clicks escaping your speaker and echoing into the back. You pray in that moment that Bryan isn’t about to get you killed.

However, it seems fortune favors you today as a distinctly pained noise comes back in response, interspersed with its own clicks and chirps. You take that to mean that it’s safe to approach the darkened room ahead.

Probably a store room from back when this place was in business, the place had certainly seen better days. Less picked over than the outside, what remains inside still amounts to little more than a pile of destitute and broken shelves, scrap wood and tangled steel leaning against walls. Nightvision allows you to see all of this as well as the chewed and half eaten corpse of an irradiated roach and toward the back, a pair of glowing eyes attached to an unnatural frame staring back at you out of the darkness.

Still roughly the size of a smaller brown bear, the marks of its adolescence are clear as it tilts its short-horned head, most likely in realization that you aren’t a member of its species. Fortunately, despite that, it either cannot or does not choose to attack. It just moves a bit further back and continues to chirp, in the process baring its throat and the collar dangling from it.

“Fred,” reads the tag as you look back through your footage.

> Do people keep these things as pets?
> [] Try to coax it out by voice. You need to know how badly it’s been hurt.
> [] Right now, it is afraid. Maybe food will change its mind.
> [] Other

>>1812547

> [] Try to coax it out by voice. You need to know how badly it’s been hurt.

possible pet deathclaw? FUCK YES

>>1812547
> [] Try to coax it out by voice. You need to know how badly it’s been hurt.
>"ATTENTION CITIZEN, YOU ARE IN NEED OF MEDICAL AID. PLEASE ALLOW ME TO PROVIDE TRIAGE."

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>>1812597

are you retarded? sudden loud noices will cause it to either flee or attack

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>>1812645

I think it was intended to be a joke, but it is worth asking: Are you planning to call it in normal language or using deathclaw noises?

>>1812588
>>1812597
>>1812547

Either way, give me a 1d100.

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>1812654

dcalw noises

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>1812645
Are you retarded? You're namefagging as a suggester on a board with IDs.

>>1812654
STALWART CITIZEN noises.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>1812654

>>1812665
Do the silver shroud voice at it.

>>1812654
Just for clarification, my vote >>1812668 is for deathclaw noises.

>>1812665

did you even read the name? i do it for the lulz.

>>1812668

kek bless you anon.

>>1812680
>rolls high
>doesn't do the fun option
>>1812681
Quiet, you.

>>1812688

>>1812688

how about no

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>>1812663
>>1812665
>>1812668
>>1812676
>>1812654

> 98

Well, so far so good, but you still have no idea what sort of shape this thing is in. With that in mind, you dig into your sound files and try to find something of a beckoning noise, looking carefully at the decibel levels of the only clip that fits that description before dialing them down to something gentler with which to entice the frightened creature.

The resulting sound is something like a rolling growl interspersed with a keening noise that abruptly cuts off, a short sound bite that seems to capture the little one’s attention before it promptly scurries further back into its hovel. However, you’ve wasted too much time to not see this all the way through.

A few more clicking-chirps seems to set it at ease before you try again with the beckoning sound, this time at least not driving it further back as you begin formulating a strategy. Just like with fishing, you begin to work out an ebb and flow to this nonsensical conversation, slowly tugging at the creature’s will to remain hidden until it ever so slowly begins working its way out.

Its movements are slow from there, cautious and pained, and it isn’t difficult to see why as it carefully crawls out on four legs, the front two of which are caked in dry blood. Torn scales and skin make themselves known on other parts, bit-by-bit as it forsakes its shelter, its neck, back, and sides likewise torn and scratched. However, it is the neck that’s most concerning.

It seems the ghouls must have bitten into the muscle there, the area raw, miscolored, and likely infected. You’d need a bottle of antiseptic and a lot of courage to even begin treating something like that. Still, all things considered it could be much worse. Now to figure out if it understands much human speech…

“FEAR NOT, CITIZEN FRED!”

Oh god, that was supposed to be a reassuring whisper! Stupid translational subroutines and third-party software! Where is the mute button?!

“FOR YOUR HEALTH IS NOW IN THE CAPABLE, CRIME FIGHTING HANDS OF… THE SILVER SHROUD!”

You freeze, Fred freezes, time itself seems to freeze in that moment as you idly wonder if this is how you die. However, before you can go into full-on panic mode, the lizard’s tail is wagging and it’s rubbing its scaly head against your tiny, metallic thigh, almost threatening to bowl you over as it enthusiastically purrs.

Was it the voice? Was it the fact you knew its name? Does any of that matter right now?

“SO-“ Shutting that off. Shutting that off, right now.

“So… you’re name’s Fred, huh?” you question.

And immediately, your butt hits the floor, an enthusiastic tongue rasping over your visor like sand paper as you try to process what’s going on.

“R-right. Fred it is then,” you confirm, but where should you go from here…?

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>>1812779

And that's where we will call it for tonight folks. For better or worse, you now have a badly wounded, female death claw named Fred for a friend. I'll put up a voting prompt for next time.

> Where to now
> [] Fred needs medicine and food.
> [] Err. Maybe you can tell Fred to wait here?
> [] Bring Fred with you to the DHS. Maybe there will be food and medicine inside.
> [] Other

> [] Fred needs medicine and food.

yeah boi. we got pe deathclaw!

>>1812681
You're sidestepping the question.
>>1812779
> [] Fred needs medicine and food.
We now have someone we can prepare for our visit to the DHS.

>>1812842

well then obviously you should have made it clear that what you said wasn't rhetorical, retard.

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>>1812856
>>1812842

Please try to relax, you guys. No sense getting riled up and upset with each other. We're all here to have fun, after all, and nothing bad came of the suggestion that started this tangent.

>>1812863

adorbs lightbulb robot has calmed me

>>1812789
>> [] Fred needs medicine and food.

>>1812789
>> [] Fred needs medicine and food.

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>>1813148
>>1813120
>>1812842
>>1812802
>>1812789

One thing is for certain, and that’s that the DHS just got a little further away. Fred is in no shape to travel as she is, and the last thing you want to bring into a former government tactical center is a liability.

With that in mind, you begin searching your databases for prominent locations that might contain medical supplies and food stores, ticking off the general list of the Super-Duper Mart, the Corner Drug Stores, and the Med-Tek Center Southeast. There’s also a Fancy Lad’s and Nuka Cola plant that (just as your peculiar luck would have it), is due just west of where you started in Beacon Hill.

You idly wonder how many of these locations have already been plundered, but of the lot, the industrial factories would probably still have the best chance at harboring something edible, maybe some medical supplies squirreled away in case of employee accidents. It’s just that the backtracking would completely destroy your progress.

You think a little harder on the matter, and expand your search to include veterinary centers, finding one tucked away on Lake Washington. While you’re at it, you also cross-reference the metro emergency way-stations network, just to have something to consider if everything else turns up empty.

> Now to choose…
> [] Super-Duper Mart, for all your shopping needs. There’s got to be something left.
> [] Med-Tek Center Southeast. A hospital is bound to have medicine, at least.
> [] Fancy Lad’s, A big delight in every bite, and so chock full of preservatives anything left is probably still edible.
> [] Rainer Beach Veterinary Center. Medicine and… dogfood? Will Fred eat dogfood? In any case, it might have been overlooked.
> [] Other

>>1813907
>> [] Rainer Beach Veterinary Center. Medicine and… dogfood? Will Fred eat dogfood? In any case, it might have been overlooked.
Many medicines humans use, animals also use, particularly antibiotics

>>1813907
> [] Rainer Beach Veterinary Center.
Putting the "her pet" in herpetology.

>>1813907
>> [] Rainer Beach Veterinary Center.

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>>1813987
>>1813934
>>1813916
>>1813907

Come the end of the world, the super market would be the first place many people went, you realize, as would hospitals for those with the mixed fortunes to survive the radiation. While there is the chance that some of those places had been cordoned off and protected from raiders, there was an equally likely chance that other undesirable parties were still visiting them.

“Alright, Fred, we’re going to the vet,” you confirm to the curious lizard, getting a half-hearted wag of her tail before she begins following after you.

It clearly pains her to walk with her front legs as she comes out into the light, tiny mewling noises escaping her maw as she applies pressure to them. However, just as you begin to wonder if you’ll need to leave her here and go yourself, her body begins leaning itself upward, her torso coming to a semi-upright position before she begins walking in a curious, somewhat surreal manner on two legs.

Whatever works, you think to yourself, and with that, you are both making your way back out into the street and due east toward the shore. Thankfully, the streets along the way are quiet, scarcely a pink hide to see and those few you do scurrying away quickly at the site of your companion. Seems her species must make meals of these things regularly.

The radioactive roaches (which you guess you’ll start calling radroaches for short) are eaten by the mole rats which are eaten by the death lizards. Where did ghouls fall in the middle of this new circle of life? Or humans or robots, for that matter? Time would tell, no doubt, as well as enlighten you to several more horrifying species born of science and radiation, but for now, you see the broken and dilapidated sign to Rainier Avenue and turn south.

This used to be a nice part of town, and maybe it still was, comparatively speaking. Still, the signs of war are everywhere. Broken windows and collapsed homes filled with ice, the brick work sporting chips and cracks and bullet holes as you make your way to the old vet’s office. At least as that comes into focus, it seems time may have been kinder to this building than others, the ice and snow being swept down from the sloped roof and across a massive parking lot rather than accumulating on top of it.

Even the windows are intact, modest though they may be, the door peeled and warped from age but still intact. The fact that you can see all of it, however, strikes you as curious, and as you look to the ground, you see evidence that someone must have dug this out fairly recently, likely by hand and piled the excess in the larger drift by the door.

> Curious…
> [] Approach stealthily. It could be an enemy.
> [] Announce your presence. You don’t want to make the wrong impression.
> [] Find somewhere else to look for supplies.
> [] Other

>>1814167
> [] Announce your presence. You don’t want to make the wrong impression.
Worst case scenario, we get shot at and run or we whoop their asses

>>1814167
> [] Announce your presence. You don’t want to make the wrong impression.
Hello Fred needs medicine.

>>1814167
Announce your presence.

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>>1814224
>>1814213
>>1814191
>>1814167

“Hello?”

You call in through the open door, in case the groaning creak born of Satan’s loud speaker wasn’t enough.

“Hello? Is anyone here? Do you mind if I-“

“Get the fuck. OUT!” comes an angry voice, the sharp click of a shotgun being cocked announcing a leather coat clad woman rounding the corner and aiming the barrel directly at you. “AH, SHIT!”

Oh god. That’s what you should be saying.

> Roll 1d100 for evasion.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>1814251

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>1814251
What if any weapons does our current bot have?

>>1814272

You have the equivalent of an eyebot's laser pistol embedded in one hand. You also have two eyebots ready to go. I could have asked for how you react, but I figured that I'd see how much damage you take first. That may effect people's mood to negotiate/murder.

>>1814272
Small shit lazer

>>1814308

One roll left, anon. I take best of three.

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>1814251
Did you people forget this was Fallout? Sneak first and ask questions laser.

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>>1814335
>>1814272
>>1814267
>>1814251

> 52

You feel your body suddenly turn, a crunching noise springing from your shoulder and chest as the force of a dozen pellets throws you into a spin.

> Warning: Unit has suffered damage.

No. You think?

However, before you go getting smart with yourself, you make sure to duck behind the doorway, noticing that Fred has done the same on the opposite side.

“I’m warning you, there’s more where that came from!” the woman shouts from inside. “I’ve had enough of crazy ass robots today!”

> She has you pinned. What now?
> [] Explain why you are here.
> [] Take her out before she takes you out.
> [] Retreat!
> [] Other

>>1814382
>> She has you pinned. What now?

>>1814382
>> [] Other
There were others?

>>1814412
>>1814382
Oops. Supporting this and suggest this
> [] Explain why you are here.

>>1814382
"Your attitude sucks!" Not a flashy one-liner, just an observation.
> [] Take her out before she takes you out.
Deploy eyebots. Watch out for booby traps.

>>1814382
>Explain why you are here.
Lets try and talk this out, maybe if she hear us making coherent sentence she may not consider us a threat.

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>>1814429
>>1814427
>>1814422
>>1814412
>>1814391
>>1814382

“Your attitude sucks!” you shout back. “And I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about with other robots, but I just want to get my friend some medicine!”

“I saw one of you assholes down south, just an hour ago!” she shouts back. “And now my dog’s dying on a fucking table in here! Now, I ain’t gonna say it again! Get lost or-”

There’s the sound of shattering glass and a low roar rumbling through the office. It’s then that you realize that you have no idea where Fred disappeared to. The thunder of a shotgun erupts from inside, and you whirl around the corner in an instant, seeing a ball of flailing limbs and the weapon going wide as Fred slams a paw down on the woman’s shoulder.

“Fred! No!” you shout, not really sure why. “Don’t kill her yet!”

You could swear from the pale white her face has taken on, that he’d already done half the work just by growling at her.

> Now what?
> [] Tell Fred he’s a good boy.
> [] Take your medicine and go. Screw her dog.
> [] Continue talking to the woman (Write-in).
> [] Finish off your opponent.
> [] Other

>>1814518
> [] Tell Fred he’s a good boy.
>Take the medicine and heal Fred and the Dog.

>>1814518
> [] Tell Fred he’s a good boy.
> [] Finish off your opponent.

Quest. Quest never changes.

>>1814518
>> [] Tell Fred he’s a good boy.
> [] Continue talking to the woman (Write-in).
Listen, I should kill you, but I need your help, and you need mine. I have info on my databanks about medical administration, and you have the hands to administer the medicine. Wanna make a deal?

>>1814518
>>1814530
>>1814554
Backing both

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>>1814618
>>1814554
>>1814538
>>1814530
>>1814518

“W-w-w-why do you have a f-fucking death claw!” the woman demands, her voice growing progressively weaker as Fred presses her face closer to the woman’s.

“So, that’s what people call them…” you muse. “Anyway, I found her after she got eaten up pretty bad by ghouls. She needs medical treatment, not metal supplements injected intravenously. By the way, good girl.”

Fred wags her tail, apparently happy for the compliment. Still, she doesn’t remove herself from on top of the threatening person.

“H-holy… H-holy…” her murmurs come as little more that breathless wisps.

“Listen, you… Err, what’s your name?”

“S-Sandra.”

“Alright, Sandra, then. You tried to kill me with a shotgun for little to no reason, and ruined a number of perfectly good parts in the process. Even so, I’m not going to kill you.”

The woman shifts her gaze nervously to you, then back to Fred.

“Fred isn’t either,” you promise. “At least, not if you don’t give her a reason to. Instead, I’m going to make the educated guess that you have no idea about medicine or how to properly administer it. You were probably just going to give it your best shot with tweezers and some anti-septic, right?”

She’s quite visibly sweating and white as a sheet, but she nods.

“That’s idiotic for a number of reasons, but you’re in luck. I’m no medical Handy, but I can get the information we both need to treat our respective friends… on one condition.”

“A-and that is?”

“I’ve got the brains, but not the arms, especially not the strength to hold down Fred for treatment. You’re going to help me with that, or I swear, I’ll shoot you and the dog and walk right out of here. Now, do we have a deal?”

“D-d-deal,” she stammers.

“Good then let’s get to work.”

Sure enough, in the other room, you find a slightly scruffy black dog that has several bullet perforations in the chest area. It’s breath is coming shallow and irregular.

> Roll 1d100 for medical treatment
> Write-in preparation details for extra bonuses

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>1814650
A bullet in the mouth is an effective anaesthetic when preparing to remove bullets from the chest! Remember, if you have leftover organs after sewing a patient back up, that means you have more for the next one!

>>1814671
What?

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>1814650
> Roll 1d100 for medical treatment

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>1814650
First we'll have to sterilize whatever we are using to get the metal bits out of, probably tweezers. Using fire or whatever alchohol we have around. Next, we'll carefully pick out piece by piece, being careful not to pull out anything important

Assuming the dog survives, we will then disinfect the area of injury, then suture it up with clean instruments, and then apply bandages, having them changed every day or so. Then the dog will have to take antibiotics for a few weeks if possible

It might be useful to shave the area first

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>>1814711
>>1814710
>>1814671
>>1814650

> 54 + 10

You go ahead and let Sandra up from the floor, instructing her to help you find the tools you’ll need and begin sanitizing them while you check on what procedures you have recorded in your data bases for treating bullet wounds.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t turn out to be much. Most of the files are just redirects to specific clinics that would have the appropriate expertise, one of them being the place that you presently are in. Lovely.

It doesn’t help matters that the clinic, while not barren, has clearly been raided once or twice since the bombs dropped, cabinets emptied and whatever ordering system there may have been severely disrupted for the rest. Finding the appropriate antibiotic and dosage for a dog this size might prove difficult, let alone your reptilian companion.

In the end, you at least know enough to know that you don’t know what you are about to do, and that gives you pause. You leave the operating theater and the gathering of components to Sandra as you wander into what you believe to be a store room.

Instead, what you find on the opposite side is the ransacked stand where a Mr. Handy likely once hung, along with long since stolen spare components. Damn raiders. They’ll apparently steal anything that isn’t nailed down.

However, if there’s at least the derelict charge and maintenance station left, maybe you can get some information out of it.

> Roll 1d100 for hacking

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>1814819

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1814819
The haaaaax!

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>1814819
pls be 100

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>>1814861
>>1814839
>>1814833
>>1814819

> 1

Granted this station is made by the same company that designed you, there shouldn’t be any problems with interfacing directly. With that logic in mind, you waste no time running a plug between your DAVID unit and the terminal. At first, it seems everything is going well.

> Analyzing…
> Uplink detected!
> …
> Initiating i̥̗̦n͖͓̯̘͎̮̞t̩̰̱e̤̠̥̻͕͚͜ŗ̬f̨̹͈͔a̗̜̞͞c̶̭̪e͕̝̘͕ͅ!

Well, that’s probably not-

Suddenly, you find yourself back in the base, your awareness booted out of the David unit completely as it succumbs to what must have been an extremely potent virus attack. Well, shit.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!

Your body is just laying there. FUCK!

> What now?
> [] SCRAMBLE THE EYEBOTS!
> [] Try to contact the eyebots already on site.
> [] PANIC!
> [] Other

>>1814945
>> [] Try to contact the eyebots already on site.

>PANIC
Maybe we will accidentally do something cool?

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Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>1814945

Pay no attention to the QM behind the curtain.

>>1814945
> [] PANIC!
Much less predictable!

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>>1815059
>>1815016
>>1814966
>>1814945

It’s alright. Remain calm. Remain- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

YOU’RE JUST LAYING THERE COMATOSE WITH A CRAZY BANDIT THAT TRIED TO SHOOT YOU AND A MUTANT LIZARD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

Do you even want to look? I mean, of course the answer to that is yes, but-

> Dialing connection…

Oh god, not yet! You should sweep the mainfr-

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

You phase back onto the scene in control of an eyebot, one whose noise sensors are presently struggling to cope with the noise of a screaming machine located in a nearby closet.

“Knock it off, you asshole!” you hear Sandra yell, her expression worried and her hands shaking as she holds a pair of tweezers over her canine companion. “Knock it off!”

Meanwhile, Fred is bouncing around your fallen body like a needy cat, unsure of what to do.

> A hell of a thing to come back to…
> [] Shut yourself up… Somehow…
> [] Explain the situation to Sandra (Write-in)
> [] Other

>>1815115
>> [] Explain the situation to Sandra (Write-in)
Alright ignore the screaming robot for a second. We do have to save your pet and mine. I'll be using this little robot to communicate until I can get the other one working

>>1815128

seconding, but mention that you accideatly a virus trying to hack the terminal

>>1815115
> [] Shut yourself up… Somehow…
Electroshock therapy?

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>>1815460
>>1815128
>>1815115

Getting called away by some friends. Will be back later for an update to finish out the night.

>>1815473
You have a social life? But you run quests!


Have fun see you in a bit!

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>>1815472
>>1815128
>>1815460
>>1815115

“Just ignore the screaming robot for a second, okay? I caught a little virus and it probably triggered panic mode, but what’s important right now is to focus on your companion. What’s his name?”

“His name’s Shadow, and that’d be a hell of a lot easier without the screaming robot!”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“I know. Look, I know, but we can probably-“

“HONK HONK HONK HONK! WEE-OO WEE-OO WEE-OO!”

“ARE YOU TRYING TO ATTRACT EVERYTHING IN THE FUCKING AREA!”

“No! Just- Just ignore it for a second, alright! I see you’ve shaved the area and sterilized the station. That’s good, but-“

Oh, interesting. Not only do the flashing lights still work, but it can get louder.

“YOU’RE GOING TO WANT TO INJECT A BLOOD CLOTTING AGENT! TXA, 100MG, SECOND SHELF, SECOND CABINET! AND THEN YOU’LL WANT TO SWAB THE AREA IN ANTISEPTIC, THAT STUFF IN THE BIG BROWN BOTTLES!”

“DEAR JESUS, JUST SHUT IT OFF BEFORE THE MIRELURKS SHOW UP!”

“WHAT’S A MIRELURK?”

As Sandra fumbles in the cabinet, she spares a look out the window over the sink and swears.

“You’re about to find out, but Shadow can’t wait any longer! Keep them the fuck off me and shut that fucking thing down!”

As one eyebot races off to silence your body, the other looks out the window to figure out what’s coming. Are those… Are those giant horseshoe crabs?

In any case, your only chance at rebooting this thing without hands is to connect with the plug lying on the floor. From there, you can either initiate a hard reboot or try to override the virus. The latter is risky, but dear god, you might need the extra fire power.

> What to do?
> [] Hard reboot the DAVID unit. Better a gun short than possibly losing two.
> [] Eradicate the virus. You need every gun and no piece of shit hack job is going to kick you out of your own body.
> [] Other

Rolled 2 (1d100)

> [] Eradicate the virus. You need every gun and no piece of shit hack job is going to kick you out of your own body.
200 years later is a hell of a time for this hacker's trap to be sprung!

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>1816378

[] Eradicate the virus. You need every gun and no piece of shit hack job is going to kick you out of your own body.

>>1816378
>>1816393

ohhhh this is gonna suck

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>1816363
Might as well see if I can't make this worse.

>>1816412
Oh yeah, I should put down what I voted for...

> [] Eradicate the virus.

>>1816412

thank fuck

INTIATE PURGE

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>>1816363
>>1816378
>>1816393
>>1816412

> 80

With things as they are now, you can’t afford to be a gun down. You also can’t afford allowing the DAVID unit to continue making noise that could attract god knows what. With that in mind, you use the magnetized plug to connect yourself to the uplink cable and immediately begin running a system diagnostic as to what could have caused this shutdown.

> Analyzing…
> …
> Error Log:
> Primary file overwrites detected in the bios.
> System deemed compromised.
> Primary functions terminated.
> Secondary alert systems activated.

It’s then that it occurs to you what must have happened. Due to the threat of Chinese interference, military grade robots were coded with authorizations that caused immediate shutdown in the face of sensitive file tampering. This was meant to prevent them from being easily tampered with by non-military personnel and made their proprietary files more difficult to obtain.

What had likely happened in this case was that you had connected with your main drive and the RobCo authentication and maintenance framework had immediately tried to begin correcting anomalies in your bios structure. More or less, it tried to brain wipe you to “fix you”, forcing a system shut down.

You feel like an idiot for making that mistake and not using a virtual box to build the unit library, communicating with the dummy medical robot in order to download the device, but there was no time to correct that now. You simply force the soft reboot, run a brief system scan for abnormalities, and get the DAVID unit back on its feet.

“’Zere mooch bettear.”

Oh Christ, it got to your voice protocols, but again, bigger concerns at the moment. How were you going to take down an incoming army of giant crabs?

> What to do?
> You are presently inside of a structure with one intended entrance. Outside is a large field of flat snow, leading toward the beach front, an old Red Rocket station standing defiantly on one side of the icy road and a shopping mall on the other, a dilapidated Fancy Lads billboard still perched atop it.
> Strategize. (Write-in)

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>>1816567

Alright folks. That's where I am leaving it tonight. Come up with a plan to make a crab boil, and I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.

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>>1816567
So, we sound like pic related now?

Do we have any urges to locate and eliminate Moose and Squirrel?

>>1816567
Get the meat and your selves up to the Red Rocket rooftop and start shipping away at the crabs' heavy armor. Avoid melee at all costs, and stick to cover because the crabs may have developed spit attacks.

>>1816567
Fortunately mirelurks are a bunch of stupid crabs and deathclaws are agile. Use eyebots to create a distract(break them up into smaller pieces then one big horde). Let the death claw take them out piece by piece.

Seriously though we gotta rely upon the deathclaw's claws to easily break through their insane armor. The only thing we gotta make sure to keep from happening is not let the death claw get swarmed. Hence using the eyebots as a distraction.

On the plus side we no longer after to worry about feeding her...

>>1816682

deathclaw is badly injured and said injuries signifcnelty hamper its mobility though

>>1816567

>>1816682
this but also this >>1816699

so try to teach the deathclaw the importance of staying in a choke point, in the shopping mall though. if it has more than one level get a position above to cover her personally while the eyebots herd the mirelurks.

>>1816710
also get the girl to provide fire support.

(i swear if pet deathclaws dies...)

>>1816567
Can we boost our meatbag temporary doctor up om the roof? Er couldnt use Frank to throw shit at the mirelurks and have him climb up when they get to close.

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>>1816769
>>1816752
>>1816710
>>1816699
>>1816682
>>1816592
>>1816587
>>1816567

You consider asking the girl for fire support for a moment, but the dog on the table doesn’t look like it can wait any longer. It’s body temperature has dropped to dangerous levels and its breathing has grown desperately shallow. Honestly, Fred doesn’t seem to be in much better shape with her neck wound and obvious exhaustion.

Maybe your best bet would be to leave her here and draw their fire somewhere else, like that gas station. Then again, would you be able to explain that concept to her without wasting what little time you have? All you know is that you’ll have to make this decision quickly.

> What to do?
> [] Make your stand at the clinic door, firing from the roof while Fred holds the entrance.
> [] Make your stand at the gas station, firing from the roof while Fred fights from the garage.
> [] Make your stand at the gas station, firing from the roof. Leave Fred to hold the clinic entrance as a last line of defense.
> [] Other

[] Make your stand at the gas station, firing from the roof while crating as much noise as possible to draw the milurks to you, that was what attraced them here in the first place.. Leave Fred to hold the clinic entrance as a last line of defense.

>>1817748

>> [] Make your stand at the clinic door, firing from the roof while Fred holds the entrance.

>>1817748
> [] Make your stand at the gas station, firing from the roof while Fred fights from the garage.
Fred, stay!

>>1817781
>>1817795

dont forget to make as much noise as posislbe to lure them to you. its what drew them to the clinic in the ifrst place.

>>1817779
>>1817781
>>1817795
seconded

>>1817805
We're using laser weapons, we've got that covered.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsCpNC5da5s

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>>1817811
>>1817795
>>1817781
>>1817779
>>1817748

“Fred,” you say in a commanding tone, getting an odd tilt of her head in response. “Stay.”

“And where are you going?” Sandra demands as you make your way to the door.

“To buy you some time.”

With that, you make your way out the door and activate your eyebots, re-engaging your noise-making protocols at max volume as you purposefully drift toward the nearby roof of the Red Rocket. You hope and pray the whole time this won’t be attracting more than the half dozen or so crab-like creatures presently lumbering your way, but whatever the risk, you can’t let them invade the clinic in force.

At the very least, the nearest lurkers seem to turn as the source of the sound carries away from the veterinary office, changing their trajectory to scuttle toward you as you alight on the Red Rocket rooftop.

> Analysis: Large crustaceous life-forms likely share similar anatomy with their ancestral precursors. Recommended course of action, target the joint areas.

In lieu of a giant pot of boiling water and an equally large pair of shell crackers, you guess that will have to do. Besides, you have the high ground, and they’re simply animals. What are they going to do to-

That thought is cut short as the nearest mirelurk raises its head and ejects a stream of liquid from its mouth, a corrosive sizzle erupting from the roof nearby as it thankfully misses you.

Oh. Well, okay then.

> Fight for your life! Roll 1d100!

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>1817860
Prey

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>1817860
we're fucked

Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>1817860
Better dead than crab!

>>1817876

we did accetably.

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>>1817876
>>1817869
>>1817866
>>1817860

> 64

Like the beginning of a storm, the first blows come in a slow, irregular rhythm, your lasers flashing through the air, prodding experimentally for weaknesses on your foremost enemy as the others crawl into range and more acid splatters onto the rooftop.

And the more shots you fire, the more uneasy you feel, solid hits with scorching heat barely seeming to phase the armored mutant as you blast away at its center of mass and extremities, trying to hit the stems of its limbs. In the end, these lasers were meant to handle humans, to fire warning shots and delay casualties until the proper authorities could arrive rather than waging wars on their own.

Your opponents, naturally, make no such distinction as you slam your back to the Red Rocket sign and pray that it can hold out as the full score open fire, a dubious hope at best as you hear the caustic chemicals sizzle right through the plastic red veneer and begin eroding the metal backing of several letters.

For better or worse, your goal has been achieved. You have their full and undivided attention as misted acid sizzles against your plates and visor, the eyebots getting more than the DAVID unit due to their slower reaction times. Now if only you could kill a couple of them.

The mirelurks are clustered in the middle of the street, ducking under their shells when not firing acid in your direction.

> Roll 1d100, bonus for strategy

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>1818038
Any cars that we can explode¿ And how long would it take for more eyebots to get here?

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>1818038
Send your David down to get chin shots on the spitters as they're looking up to fire at your eyebots on the rooftop. You're a city management AI, I bet you're better at multitasking than a crab.

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>1818038

see if we can figure out what sounds they make for a threat display and play it back at them! or juset play random movies roars (like godzilla) and see if it scares them off!

>>1818069

holy shit anon you narly gve me a heart attack.

>>1818070

SKREEEEEEONG intensifies

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>>1818073
>>1818070
>>1818069
>>1818046
>>1818038

> 85 + 15

It occurs to you that while these enemies have many advantages at the moment, they don’t have much in the way of brains. After all, they haven’t been trying to scale their way up to the roof or really anything besides their one trick, and that gives you an idea.

While the eyebots take up the chorus of noise in your stead, you order the DAVID unit back, stealthily maneuvering it off the roof and around the corner from where the crowd continues trying to maul your poor units to death as you set up for a sneak attack.

You don’t have to wait long, either. Like most simple strategies, there is a pattern, a consistency to it that makes their movements predictable. All you need to do is figure out when they are going to raise their head to spit and strike. That’s how you nail the first one to open fire on you several times in its horrifying insectoid face mere seconds later, the mirelurk hissing in outrage, but not a death gurgle as it begins clamoring its way toward you, along with a couple of its friends.

A pea shooter was still a pea shooter, you suppose, but where there was a will, there had to be a way. Thinking quickly, you order one of your eyebots to blast the cap off the vent exit on top of the Red Rocket and fly it down into the air conditioning ducts. These were made large for a particular reason, you recall, and part of that involved the enhanced acoustics that allowed for identifying errors early and often.

Unit 2 ducks inside shortly after the first, and it’s then you put your plan into action, the DAVID unit on the ground doing its best to disable the myriad of chittering legs heading its way, barely holding its ground before the full volume of a matriarchal deathclaw roars from inside of the vents, magnified and distorted in a way that somehow makes the window shaking sound even more terrifying than it otherwise would be.

The legs of the creatures halt for a moment. They hesitate and look to one another, and it’s at that point that the sound of stomping feet is narrated by your units, the coming of something larger and more terrifying than they can possible deal with being made apparent to them by each thunderous crunch. Finally, reluctantly, they realize that they have no chance at survival but to flee at full force, practically tripping over themselves in the process once the largest of them breaks back toward the beach.

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>>1818169


However, you aren’t finished yet, not when there is an old, rusted semi-truck still parked along the roadway.

A little-known fact about most models at the time before the war, while possessed of a powerful nuclear core that operated their systems, the core itself was notoriously unstable when its enclosure was tampered with. For that reason, as you punch a few rounds through the old hump, it doesn’t surprise you in the least that no one had successfully dislodged the power source after all these years. The result was a sudden spike of heat in the core, one that catalyzed a chemical reaction that-

BOOM!

Mirelurks going flying sideways into a nearby building as the tanker truck detonates, their limbs making a desperate, pitiful scrabble even as their internal organs and brain realize that the fight is over. In seconds, they are nothing but dead, mashed up meat.

> What now…
> [] Supper time for Fred. Let her go nuts while you check on Sandra.
> [] Drag a mirelurk back with you quickly and stay inside. There’s no telling if more are on their way.
> [] Other

>>1818174
>>1818169.
>> [x] Drag a mirelurk back with you quickly and stay inside. There’s no telling if more are on their way.

>>1818174
> [] Drag a mirelurk back with you quickly and stay inside. There’s no telling if more are on their way.
You might have attracted an actual deathclaw with that deathclaw call. Lay low for now.

>>1818228
>>1818230

seconding.

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>>1818237
>>1818230
>>1818228
>>1818174

In the best-case scenario, you’ve just terrified the living hell out of everything in the region for a few hours. In the worst, you’ve all but invited them to come your location and mow you down. Either way, it doesn’t hurt to get inside and prepare for future hazards. With that in mind, you run over and snap a couple of tow lines onto one of the mirelurk corpses and scamper back inside the clinic as quickly as possible.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” Sandra asks as you stumble back inside and struggle with the logistics of bringing the corpse in there with you.

“Nothing right now,” you assure her. “Whether it stays like that is anybody’s guess.”

“And the explosion?”

You close the door after the corpse and chirp a couple of times to call Fred over. She seems very excited.

“Blew up a truck.”

“Oh.”

The woman sighs as you join her in the clinic, her hands red and shaking as she nervously applies stitches to her canine companion.

“How’d the operation go?” you ask.

“He’s barely breathing,” she notes darkly. “Poor guy probably lost too much blood to make it through the night.”

You think for a moment, note the tear stains on the woman’s face.

> What to do…
> [] You’ve done all you can.
> [] Maybe there’s a blood bank nearby.
> [] You need more information on medicine. Time to go back to that charge station.
> [] Other

> [] Maybe there’s a blood bank nearby.

>>1818329

>> [] You need more information on medicine. Time to go back to that charge station.

>>1818329
> [] You need more information on medicine. Time to go back to that charge station.
Try not to get yourself factory reset this time.

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>>1818365
>>1818364
>>1818351
>>1818329

Sandra isn’t wrong, unfortunate as it is to say. Shadow’s vitals are poor, and only bound to worsen as his system struggles to recover against the infection. What you need right now is more information, both about the clinic and medical practices in general.

Though it’s daunting, you know just where to look for more information. Unspooling the link cable once more and taking a deep breath, this time you make sure that the dummy drive is correctly routed before jacking in.

> Downloading…
> …
> …
> Downloading… 0.1%

This isn’t going to be a fast process, but Sandra has bought you some time with her treatment, hopefully enough to get the full Handy protocol installed. In the meantime, you’ll make do with the eyebots.

> What to do…
> [] Ask Sandra questions (Write-in)
> [] Try to comfort the woman (Write-in)
> [] Continue performing reconnaissance. You don’t want anymore surprises.
> [] Other

>>1818394

>> [] Continue performing reconnaissance. You don’t want anymore surprises.
>> [] Other
How long would it take for some eyebots from base to reach us?

>>1818400

seconding, get backup here also dont we need to help fred still?

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>1818394
>> [] Try to comfort the woman (Write-in)
As an unfeeling robot, I am incapable of holding a grudge against you for blasting me dead on with a shotgun! Luckily for me, your aim is even shakier than your surgery.
> [] Continue performing reconnaissance. You don’t want anymore surprises.
But you do want more salvage. Always looking for more metal.

>>1818406
Oh, NOW I roll high. Suuure.

>>1818406

jus a suggention, could we somehow attack mirelurk shells to our eyebots?

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>>1818405
>>1818400
>>1818394
>>1818406

You presently have four more eyebots back at base that could be deployed. They are your second to last line of defense for your main server, but you can field them if you choose.

They can arrive within fifteen minutes, most likely. Just let me know how many you want to field.

>>1818413

It would not be impossible, it could even prove useful.

>>1818405
>>1818394
Yeah make sure we take care of fred

>>1818417
>>1818413
Let's do this and pull two more eyebots here

>>1818417
Not an appreciable increase to our party strength, keep the spares at home.
A combination of the thrust increase and mrielurk shells could increase the durability of our eyebots without reducing flightworthiness much, but it's gonna increase maintenance overheads.

>>1818422

agreeed. changling vote to second this

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>>1818417
>>1818418
>>1818422
>>1818425
>>1818431


You decide it isn’t a bad time to scramble a couple more eyebots from the fleet. They’ll be here shortly, and in the meantime, you’ll have a little more leeway to assess the situation.

“Sandra.”

You begin speaking through an eyebot directly as the other goes to watch over Fred. The woman just gives you a pained expression from the operating table she’s sitting on, right next to her dog’s.

“I just want you to know that you did a good job, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up while we wait out the results. I’ve got my body digging up medical records from the facility to see if we can do anything else, but I think you did alright. At least your surgery seems a bit less sloppy than your shooting.”

Again, there’s that strained expression, incredibly hard to read.

“Next up is the death claw, right?” she questions.

“Fred,” you correct her, “and yes. However, from what I can see, she’s a little busy eating right now.”

The sound of scraping claws and cracking chitin can be easily heard from the room over the background noise, but your eye in the other room gives you a clearer picture as Fred pulls with her front legs and pushes with her back legs, much like a cat until she rips the entire crab free from the large shell protecting most of its back.

Ooze and viscera and a fishing aroma immediately begin suffusing the room, thereafter, but Fred doesn’t seem to care one bit as she takes the back of the corpse and begins ravenously tearing chunks out of it with her jaws.

“Seriously though, what the hell? If you’re a robot, you sure as hell don’t like it, and you showed up with one of the most dangerous animals in the Northwest Commonwealth following on your heels. Who the fuck are you?”

> Write-in

>>1818422
backing.

Mirelurk shell would make excellent if unorthdox armor. We should also consider armoring Fred and securing more of those shells at a later time. Not like they are very edible so stashing them someplace nearby for later retrieval should work.

>>1818501
"A remnant of the old world in a matter of speaking. Like those old world ghouls."

"If I go into more detail it would get very complicated very quickly and take awhile to explain which we may not actually have."

>>1818527

backing

>>1818501
Backing
>>1818527

>>1818519
There's five corpses probably plenty and Fred is already deshelling them

>>1818527
Being cryptic is pointless, she isn't some idiot tribal.
"I am the SEER: Seattle Enhanced Emergency Response."

forgot to include a yes to mirelurk shell armor

>>1818551
Outright revealing ourselves as an AI is a terrible idea. We are literally made of super valuable salvage. Best to admit we are of the old world to explain our knowledge but not reveal we are specifically an AI. Even the QM admitted last thread that revealing who we are is going to be a bad idea due to our valuable components.

>>1818608
1) At what point did I say we were a remote AI and not just an eccentric robot?
2) can you quote said post please.

>>1818626
Singular eccentric bot wouldn't explain our buddies. Well...not sure with how fallout 4 decided to fuck with AI lore. Given how QM decided to go with it may not be a bad disguise. Though it wouldn't make us very popular given all the crazy bots running around.

Conversation with fellow bot revealing how looters go after things which are valuable salvage. A big problem if your a bot and even bigger problem if your an AI. I think it was then because we found out about for sure about scavengers who had it out for those like us.

Before that AI(actually QM) had considered that scavengers would consider us a large target due to our valuable components. Pretty sure that was in the beginning. The meeting with the friendly bot confirmed our suspicions as the friendly Mr. Handy confirmed it.

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>>1818501
>>1818519
>>1818527
>>1818529
>>1818549

“What’s a robot supposed to act like?” you question, switching to a stiff, metallic voice. “BEEP BOOP. HELLO. MASTER. MAY I. HELP. YOU?”

That seems to get a small laugh out of her.

“Without going into a huge explanation with a ton of detail: yes, Sandra. I’m just a machine, a robot. Granted, I’m a little bit different than your average Mr. Handy, but when it comes down to it, I’m just circuits and wires.”

“Probably busted a couple of logic circuits and went a bit nuts,” she guesses bluntly. “That would explain the abnormal behavior.”

“Ooh. Ouch,” you respond. “You’re probably not wrong, though, Sandra. I’m a little different than I used to be back in the old world, but then again, the whole world went a little crazy when the bomb’s dropped. I’m just trying to put as many pieces back together as I can without getting my head taken off.”

“And leading around a couple of eyebots?”

“And leading around a couple of eyebots,” you confirm. “I’ve got two more on the way as we speak to help us keep an eye on the area, maybe drag some more meat back for you and your dog. At least, I guess those things are safe to eat…”

“Some people consider ‘em a delicacy, and the rads are surprisingly low considering that they swim around in the water all the time.”

“Anyway, gonna need to get back up topside to help them with the tow lines. You hang tight for a minute, alright?”

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>>1818836

With that, you pop back out the door and take another look around, carefully scanning the environment for any signs of activity to the west. Thankfully, it looks like nothing in the city proper wants anything to do with what’s been going on here, and so, you around the corner and look back to the beach. Then, you stop, and quickly retreat back around the corner.

There’s something titanic in the street now, much larger than anything you’ve seen in the wasteland thus far. The leathery giant is almost as large as a vertibird and is casually ripping into a mirelurk you’d killed earlier, fishing out the entire body between its massive jaws before wolfing it down in a few, casual swallows.

The small blessing in all this is that it doesn’t seem to notice you, the surreal, almost-draconic beast seeming far more interested in the meat someone had laid out for it than hunting down new prey, its jaws spearing into another corpse and biting through mirelurk, shell and all, before spitting out the hard part.

You look on with frozen horror when you catch the newly arriving pair of eyebots out of the corner of your eye, frantically ordering them to swoop down and out of sight until this thing has passed. Fortunately, it doesn’t take too much longer, two of the monstrosities enough for now, apparently, before it grabs a third in its claw and thunders off into the skies with an unearthly, reptilian screech.

> Well, that was a thing…
> [] Back inside! Back inside right now!
> [] There are still crabs out there. You need that meat and those shells.
> [] Other

>>1818845
>> [] There are still crabs out there. You need that meat and those shells.

>>1818845
>> [] There are still crabs out there. You need that meat and those shells.

but do so stealthaily.

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>>1818845

also holy shit wtf is that. a crow wyvren hybrid?!

...at least its not pic realated. anyone here rember that thread?

>>1818845
>> [] There are still crabs out there. You need that meat and those shells.
Keep low and out of sight. Perhaps ask our new charge about thunder birds.

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>>1818912
>>1818880
>>1818867
>>1818856
>>1818845

Giant bird monster or no, you have mouths to feed. Most likely that thing, whatever it was, probably just scared off anything that might have been coming in for leftovers for a while, and that cedes you an advantage you aren’t about to pass up.

You grab one more of your eye bots from inside, and jet over to that location as quickly as you can, cables already in hand. It helps that you only have two more viable crab carcasses to bring back with you, in the end. It means you can make the entire trip in one go, stacking the destitute shells on top of the meaty ones and be safely back inside in sight of five minutes.

“What in the hell is going on out there?” Sandra asks.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” you admit. “Flying lizard with white, leathery skin, roughly the size of a vertibird, sound familiar?”

“A fucking thunderbird?” she asks, eyes bulging. “Shit!”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“Take it however you want. Those things are bad news.” She takes a breath before continuing. “I really hope you don’t mean the literal size of a vertibird, because that would mean they’ve been getting bigger.”

“A bit of hyperbole,” you admit.

“Good, but seriously, they’re a rare breed that we got stuck with here up north. They’re huge, vicious, and territorial, and if you’re really lucky, you won’t see one in your life time.”

“Something that big couldn’t deal with much competition for food,” you agree. “Especially if it’s an active hunter, a few mirelurks a day probably wouldn’t even cover it.”

“No shit. Last I heard, that’s why nobody makes their way to Discovery or West Point anymore. They’ve got one of those big suckers nesting on the Space Needle. They had more out on the ocean front too, but rumor was they managed to take ‘em down with some harpoons and a lot of balls.”

“Seems like they could just do it again if they’ve taken out others before.”

“Hell if I know. Radiation does weird shit, and I’m guessing this one got more than its regular dose. Also, something just occurred. What’s your name, anyway?”

> Good question…
> [] Write-in

>>1818965
>[] Write-in
"I was born with the name SARA. Seattle Automated Response AI. It's not really appropriate anymore, given the damage to my system. Names are meant to be given, not taken. Could you coin a new name for me?"

>>1818972
seconding

>more then an hour since op posted.

EVERYBODY PANIC

>>1818972
Oh so [i]now[/i] it's suddenly OK to call ourselves an AI. Voting we use the modified (and genderless) acronym SEER.

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>>1818972
>>1818983
>>1819129
>>1819138
>>1818965

Honestly, it wouldn’t hurt to tell her exactly what you are. So long as she doesn’t get ideas about coming to your server and scrapping you, she hasn’t really done you ‘much’ harm and it’s not like she’s in a position to sell these units off for scrap. Naturally, that doesn’t mean you should tell her where your mainframe is, but you can at least entrust her with a name, right?

“The name I was given was SARA,” you explain. “The Seattle Automated Response Artificial Intelligence.”

“Ah, neat,” she says, nodding along and seemingly not getting the gravity of that statement. “I’ve heard of that from some of the old timers, and you still see the stamp here and there. So, you’re one of the units from the prewar safety net?”

“Not quite,” you correct. “It’s more appropriate to say that I ‘was’ the safety net at one time. I was designed to look after this city in the event of natural disasters, and my awareness used to span across the entire city. However… Let’s just say that nobody really knew what kind of damage the last war was going to bring, and my systems weren’t fully prepared. As far as I know, I’m all that’s left.”

“Huh… Kind of a big line to buy into, if you don’t mind my saying, and I haven’t exactly heard much about some huge, central intelligence anyway. Then again, I’m not really from Seattle proper.”

“Huh? Then where are you from?” you ask.

“I’m an islander,” she clarifies, hooking a thumb toward Mercer. “I come here occasionally to grab some scrap and supplies then head back.”

“So, you’re a trader…”

“When I have to be. Most of the time, I can find what I need by scavenging, and when I can’t, I’ll either trade with the Metro boys or get myself a five-finger discount on whatever the local raiders have pinched.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It ‘is’ dangerous, but so’s the whole damn world. It’s a hell of a lot safer with clean water, medicine, and working turrets and guns, at least. That’s why they send us out.”

“Over the lake filled with sea monsters?”

“Yep! Can’t take the bridge or the Gate Keepers will try to skin you alive.”

“Gate Keepers?”

“They’re a group of bandits nobody can get rid of. They took the old highway a few years back, hunkered down, and have been making life difficult ever since.”

“Why hasn’t anyone dislodged them?” you inquire.

“Easier said than done. The freak shows paired up with the rest of the raiders who are squatting over the old Nukaland park. Between the two of them, that means more guns and more freaky robots than we can deal with. It’s just easier to whoop them in our own territory and on our own terms.”

> So many questions…
> [] Ask about the raiders
> [] Ask about her
> [] Ask about where they were attacked
> [] Ask about the rest of your network
> [] Other

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>>1819129

OP is fighting a cold at the moment.

>>1819138

Also, if people are interested in a vote over gender or your specific acronym, feel free.

>>1819140

see howw Freds doing. wernt we supposd to help Fred too?

>>1819140
> [] Ask about where they were attacked
Where who were attacked?
Ask if she knows of any other civilized settlements in Seattle.
Finally, ask if she was planning on staying on the mainland much longer, as you were looking to do some scavenging yourself.
Tend to Fred and the dog. ...We never got its name, or hers, did we?

>>1819172

changing vote to support this.

>>1819172
Vote

>>1819197


holy fuck fallout QM is interested in the thread!

And sure, why not. +1 vote to start introducing ourselves as SEER to de-emphasise the aritifical intelligence nature of our name.

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>>1819140
>>1819172
>>1819182
>>1819197

“So, where were the two of you attacked?” you probe. “I don’t mean to bring up bad memories, but it’s better I know which areas of the city aren’t safe.”

“You sound kind of new around here for an AI that’s supposed to control the city,” she notes sarcastically.

“I’ve been asleep for a long time. Honestly, anything you could tell me would help.”

“Christ… Well, as for us, we ran into some raiders over at The Museum of Flight, due west. Shadow ran in and caught a round of burst fire in the chest. I didn’t let a single one of those bastards get out of there after what they’d done.”

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“I thought I’d trained him better,” she sighs, running a hand between the unconscious pooch’s ears, “but you can’t fix stupid, I guess.”

“Why the Museum of Flight, though?” you inquire. “It seems an odd target.”

“Well, nowadays, the obvious answer isn’t usually the best. You’re more likely to get extra holes in you rather than patch them at the hospitals, for instance. Ghouls tend to overrun the place, radroaches, and raiders. Similarly, most hardware stores were cleaned out about a century ago by people looking to rebuild.

“In answer to your question, though, the answer is flight simulators. Back in the day, they kept spare parts, and they kept them in a cramped little place few people would think to look.”

“Creative… Also, would you happen to know anything about the Department of Homeland Security due south? Is it all dug out at this point?”

“Anything easy to take and scram with on the first floor was probably taken years ago,” she replies. “The people who got even that much usually also got a bullet in the gut or an eye full of laser from the crazy military bots still trolling the place.

“It’s a graveyard at this point, skeletons everywhere from people trying to get answers about what really happened to tip the scales and turn the whole world into a ball of ash. If you were smart, you’d steer clear of there, yourself.”

> What to do…
> [] Try to convince her to break in with you.
> [] Try to convince her to help you get some salvage elsewhere.
> [] Change topics. Ask about other settlements while you wait for your medical download to finish.
> [] Other

>>1819248
>> [] Try to convince her to break in with you.
A Deathclaw, 2 eyebots, an infiltration unit, and a scavenger walk into a bar...

>>1819254

seconding, and we HAVE to say that. "A Deathclaw, 2 eyebots, an infiltration unit, and a scavenger walk into the DHS..."

>>1819260

also metion we might be able to reboot the robots and convince them to aid us

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>>1819260
>>1819254
>>1819248

“Sounds a bit dangerous for a one-man job,” you admit, “but riddle me this, a death claw, four eye bots, and a couple of scavengers walk into a bar…”

“Nope. Gonna stop you right there,” she quips. “The second scavenger’s gonna duck, specifically out of that situation.”

You wish you could frown.

“Listen. I can see where you’re going with this, but… Do I look like I’m wearing a suit of power armor?”

She gestures to her clothing, a well-worn leather jerkin and a couple of shoulder pads.

“And my gun wouldn’t even make a dent in those sentry bots. In all likelihood, I’d wind up lying on the floor and bleeding out within sight of a couple minutes while you’d be a pile of scrap metal for someone else to pick up later. No offense, but I’ve got a family to make it back to.”

> Seems her sense of adventure is tempered by knowledge of her mortality…
> [] Keep trying to sell her (Write-in)
> [] She might not go for the DHS, but maybe somewhere else. Her packs aren’t exactly full…
> [] Drop the issue for now
> [] Ask about her family
> [] Other

> [] She might not go for the DHS, but maybe somewhere else. Her packs aren’t exactly full…

ask her if she was planning on hitting someplace out

>>1819283
What if we hit a smaller federal office instead? The US government was always a little too loose with its military surplus. The government food bank, ofr instance...

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>>1819289
>>1819287
>>1819283

“Alright. I understand,” you say. “You feel like you’d be throwing your life away, and maybe you’re right. However, I also know that that pack you have in the corner there doesn’t have everything you need in it, and I’m willing to offer a hand.”

“What’s your angle?” she demands, giving you a distrusting look.

“Listen, I’ve got a map of the city as it was in my head, plenty of places that even you probably don’t know about filled with surplus I don’t have a use for. What I want in exchange is help getting a body.”

“A… body?”

“A different one than I have right now,” you say, gesturing to yourself still slumped in the corner. “This DAVID unit isn’t bad, but if I can get my hands on some serious military hardware, I can do a whole lot better. I might even be able to start patching up the city.”

“This city is dead.”

> Seems someone needs a shot of PATRIOTISM
> Write-in

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>>1819316

And with that, I'm going to bed. Feel free to hash out details among yourselves as to how you think the character views the world and its agenda. Speeches can be very good characterizing moments.

>>1819316

"dont be so down. we mearly need a easily defenislbe postion, some crops, a water source, and attract some survivors and we can turn the ruins into the birthing ground ofa small community

>>1819316
"It doesn't need to be. It was what I was made for."

>>1819316
>play patriotic music while you explain her you can rebuild this country.

>>1819289
Yeah even now the US government is notorious with giving all their old shit to local and state governments. Not nearly as much as people think actually make it oversees...mostly due to the cost of shipping it that far. Much easier to just pass it along. Mostly to end up in yet more...storage.

You would think with how overstocked they are the lower governments would take heed of that lesson but nope...it doesn't help that unlike the US government they actually have very little need of the stuff.

>>1819316
"In all honestly there are more then a few warehouses and armories that are extremely well stocked that very few people actually know about. Both public and private.

Considering they would do the same thing with old automated security systems...when they would of gotten phased out. Truth is they like all the other crap would be passed down to state and local governments to use. Unlike all the vehicles and weapons they would of been one of the few things they could actively use.

but the other goodies are gonna be stored in such large quantities they'll still slap on some automated security. All of which would be outdated even before the world went kaboom!

I am in the position to know about many of such facilities. Unfortunately for me I am...not exactly up to the times, but fortunately there is some good news."

"I am certain even now people would of heard of how important keys, clearance, overrides, and passwords are. Which just so happen to be within my specialty."

"Sadly that doesn't fix the being out of date problem of mine."

"So while you could go ahead and scavenge for tiny bits and pieces here or there. I could offer you finds that would last you months to just cart back and forth."

"See what I said about so few people knowing about them...was back then. IMAGINE just how much more true that is now!"

>>1819417

changing vote to second this.

>>1819316
"You're proof that something lives. My task is to assist citizens of the United States with post-war recovery, and such as it is, your people fit those parameters. A mutual exchange of aid will greatly benefit the Greater Seattle Area."

>>1819417
>>1819316
I'll back this too

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>>1819782
>>1819754
>>1819419
>>1819417
>>1819415
>>1819404
>>1819316

“A city isn’t just made of bricks and asphalt, Sandra. It’s made of people, the kind that care about their families and strive for a better life, no matter how hard things have gotten out there. You’re the proof that I still have work to do: that this city, broken to hell and infested with monsters as it is, still has something in it worth fighting for.”

“But you don’t even know me…” she points out.

“Do I need to? In my day and age, people helped each other when times were tough. There didn’t have to be a reason or an ulterior motive behind it.”

Her lips form the clear, hard line of someone unconvinced.

“Listen. If I have to have an angle here, other than being built to help people in times like this, then it’s this: I’m out of date. I don’t know what’s happened to the world any better than your average joe on the street would, and that’s why someone like you, who’s been prowling the streets and mapping areas for scrap for the better part of a decade would be helpful.

“In exchange for that all important common knowledge, what I’m offering is what I knew about the world before the bombs fell, which in the case of this city is just about everything. Every maintenance request, every shipment, every warehouse or hidden armory that someone stocked before the world went kaboom is in my records.”

“Next you’ll tell me you have all the access codes and locations of the vaults…”

“At least in this area, yes. I also know about other projects that were strictly speaking, off the public record: surplus lockers for outdated government hand-me downs, hexacrete hold-out bunkers for prolonged ground warfare, and the last location of several armored trucks.”

“And you need me, why…?”

“Because between point A and point B, the world isn’t what I remember anymore. I could spend days, even months crossing and digging through mountains of rubble while trying to find access points to Old World caches only to find them cleaned out or inaccessible.

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>>1821255


“For the time and effort you could spare me reinventing the wheel, I’m content to hook you up with enough old world surplus to keep you doing milk runs for the next several months as opposed to picking and pulling tiny bits and pieces.

“The option is yours, but keep in mind the number of people that knew what I knew before the bombs, in some instances you could count them on one, maybe two, hands. Where that puts us now, two centuries later, I’ll let you do the math.”

“Ugh. Where are you on that medical download?” she asks.

“Unit is at 85%,” replies the cheery VI from the DAVID’s speakers.

“Lovely… Just… I’ll help you once, okay? We’ll split the take 50/50 and see how it goes.”

> That might prove a dangerous precedent going forward.
> [] Deal. You know of an armored truck that will help get her suited up for bigger assignments.
> [] Deal, but stress that in the future, the percentage of the take will have to remain an open subject.
> [] Other

>>1821257
Deal but in the future split will be determined by what the loot is

>>1821308

this. we have a grater need for things like circutiry and metals, while the fleshbag has a greater need for foods and medical supplies

>>1821257
>>1821308
>>1821341
second. Plus once we get enough bots and area we can grow and purify water for trade later. Maybe even create meds

>>1821257
>> [] Deal, but stress that in the future, the percentage of the take will have to remain an open subject.
Meatbags and robots have different necessities, not to mention the difference in needed intake between piecing yourself back together and just treading water.

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>>1821505
>>1821481
>>1821341
>>1821308
>>1821257

“Deal, at least for this go around. If you stick around afterward, we’ll figure it out on a case-by-case basis. There’ll be times that we bring in more food and medical supplies. Other times we grab more circuitry and the like, and our needs are naturally, pretty different.”

“Eh? Fine,” she sighs, scratching the back of her head. “So long as we settle the payout before the job, and you stick to your word after, we’ll be square. Tends to be the standard operating procedure for small groups of scavvers, with percentages of the total cap worth of the proceeds doled out after the fact. That way, if you land in a dust bin or a treasure vault, everyone walks away with their fair share.”

“Sounds like you’ve wound up shafted before,” you comment.

“And you wouldn’t be wrong. Let’s just hope you also aren’t wrong about your intel, or this’ll be a short partnership.”

She groans as she stretches out on the operating table, reclining her head.

“Anyway, you said you wanted info. Ask away.”

> What to do…
> [] Ask about settlements
> [] Ask about monsters
> [] Ask about raiders
> [] Ask about something else

>>1821584
Words, words, words! Ask if she's ever fucked a robot before.

>>1821584
> [] Ask about something else
"What's the local history after the bomb hit?"
> [] Ask about settlements

>>1821584
>[] Ask about settlements
"The purpose of my creation is to help humans. To facilitate a reingagement in my purpose, I need to know who is left and where."

>>1821640
supporting

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>>1821641
>>1821640
>>1821616
>>1821609
>>1821584

“As I said, I was built to help humans. So, knowing that, if you could tell me who is left and where, it would put me a long way toward knowing how to best re-engage myself. Anything you could tell me about local history would also be helpful.”

“Hmm…”

She takes a moment to think on it before speaking.

“Well, everybody knows that after the bombs dropped, the world went to shit. Radiation killed nearly everyone, the lights went out, and things got dark. The lucky ones were far enough away from the impact zones to start piecing things together after the fact, but most of the folks in Seattle itself had another thing coming.

“For years and years, nobody was crazy enough to touch this place aside from the ghouls, and that lead more people to look further east in the forested areas. They called that place Cascadia, after the park, and started branching out all through the woods until the radioactivity cooled down enough for people to start heading back this way.

“Turned out that Mercer, a pitstop on the way, wasn’t as unpopulated as people thought. The Islanders had just kept themselves far enough south of the bridge to avoid running into anybody. When they figured that out, trade opened up, the society prospered a bit and when they were ready, the Cascadians made another push into the city proper.

“As it turned out, some of the folks from the coast guard had managed to salvage out a settlement in the empty stadiums after the blasts, and had a good thing going. Another group had been squatting in the metros and had built a kind of underground city.

“Of course, other settlements popped up every now and again, but life out in the wasteland is hard. There’s always monsters, raiders, and god knows what else looking to wipe you off the map, and so the permanent fixtures around here were basically the three major cities: The Islanders, The Metropolitans, and The Guardians.

“The Guardians were pretty good dudes. They were isolationist, sure, but it was because everything they were doing was a balancing act to take care of their own. They didn’t trade much, except food with the Metropolitans, but they kept the area safe until wherever their sphere of influence ended.”

“And what about the Valkyries?”

“Fuck the Valkyries!” Sandra’s nose wrinkles at the mention. “They’re a bunch of up-jumped, fucking raiders that came up from the south and took over the Guardian stadium. All female, all psychotic by the sound of things, they drove out half the city when they invaded and drove the other half insane. They’re violent as hell and rumor has it, people who walk too far into their territory don’t come back out.

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>>1821919


“Anyway, that happened about fifty years ago with the survivors landing up in West Point and Discovery, where they made their own cities to replace the two they’d lost. The Metropolitans, being as they no longer had any trading partners for food, had to lean further west and start supporting the Puget sharecroppers to keep themselves fed.

“Less good guys in the city meant more raiders, more monsters, and less trade for everyone, and it’s made times rough. The Brotherhood arrived about seven years ago in the region, and has been trying to clean house. They even took back Harbor Island from the Valkyries, but the Fields are a death trap they aren’t ready to tackle. All in all, they’re like a weird cult themselves, but they do alright by most of the folks around here.”

> That’s a lot of information…
> [] Ask more about the settlements (Write-in)
> [] Ask about mutants
> [] Ask about raiders
> [] Ask about something else

>>1821923
>> [] Ask about mutants
> and if it might be possilbe to tame and or bargin with them

>>1821923
>Ask about something else
"Tell me of the brotherhood. You say they are like a cult, tell me more of that."

Did she patch up Fred? I think I may have missed it.

Backing
>>1821950

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>>1822121
>>1821950
>>1821932
>>1821923

“If you don’t mind my asking, tell me about the Brotherhood. What do you mean they’re like a cult?” you ask.

“They just… They’re kind of not normal,” she explains. “They use weird titles for everyone. Paladin this, Initiate that, etc., and have all sorts of secret practices and standards for joining. They refer to everyone not in their order as civilians like they’re actually part of the goddamn army, and while they definitely carry around enough guns and awesome tech to back up that claim, not everyone appreciates how they interfere with their lives.

“At least now they have a new leader. The first was a real dickhead that had a habit of ‘conscripting’ locals and resources for their own needs. When he finally caught a bullet to the head, their people got the idea they should be doing something different, and elected someone more diplomatic.”

“I see, and what about the things other than humans in the area? What’s dangerous, what’s edible, etc.? Are any of them smart enough to bargain with?”

“The only mutants I can think of that could hold a conversation would be the Super Mutants, and you’d do best to steer clear of them. They’re big, green, angry fuckers with a habit of breaking skulls and then eating the flesh off of them.”

“So, they’re cannibals?”

“They’re lunatics,” she clarifies. “Fortunately, they tend to be further west for right now and pretty stupid. Heard a rumor one of the crazy bastards declared himself King of the Mutants in Victoria.”

“Lovely.”

“He has a castle and everything.”

“Lovely. Anyway, what about flora and fauna?”

“Little enough survived the nukes and what did is pretty fucked up. Brahmin are cows, rad-stags are something like two headed elk, and there are mole-rats that some people grow in place of pigs. On the deadlier end, there’s the death claws which normally aren’t anything like Fred over there, mutated bears called yao-guai, the mirelurks which keep to the seas, and the thunderbirds, which you’ve seen. Oh, and reavers.”

“Reavers?”

“Imagine a moose, but twice as big and four times the horns. The ugly fuckers will punch holes through solid stone walls if you fuck with their young.”

“Good to know…”

> What now…
> [] Other questions (Write-in)
> [] Wait for your download to finish and see to Fred

>>1822226
> [] Any tips on how to get rid of roaches in this day and age? Preferably ones that don't involve regular ammo expenditures or heavy blunt objects?
> [] Wait for your download to finish and see to Fred

>>1822226
>[] Other questions (Write-in)

"any perticular tips or tircks you have picked up that may aplly to avoidng the local flora and fauna?

>>1822281

changing to this

>>1822226
You should be asking yourself instead, how far out can I send robots, and will their reaction time suffer over the distances it would take to reach these settlements?

Now hurry up and wait, they've accomplished surprisingly little of note post-war considering the progress the old US made in about as much time.

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>>1822299
>>1822287
>>1822284
>>1822281
>>1822226

“Anyway, going back to the little threats, do you have a good way to take our roaches in this day and age, preferably without smashing them with a blunt object or unloading a cartridge?”

“Have you tried stabbing them?” she asks.

“Haha,” you laugh humorlessly. “Seriously though.”

“Hey, if you want to try getting enough bug spray, that’s your business. Most people just realize when they’re as big as dogs, your options get a bit narrower. Sure, there’s some sort of mix that’ll kill ‘em good and dead, but I’m no chem head.”

“What about just avoiding monsters in general?”

“Watch the tracks and mind your location,” she answers with a shrug. “Mirelurks live along the coast or anywhere wet, and get touchy when you get near their eggs. Deathclaws like the old metro tunnels near Beacon Hill, and will fuck up anything that’s in their territory. Ghouls also like the metro, but are just as comfortable with any place that’s still irradiated. Just thank fuck that we’re too far North for cazadores in the winter.”

“Caza-whats?”

“Cazadores. Think wasps, giant fucking wasps that’ll liquify your insides and travel in swarms.”

You groan.

“Hey, you asked,” she points out.

You did, but you politely excuse yourself from asking more of them as you wait for your download of medical knowledge to finish. It goes smoothly, at least, no hang-ups or warnings as the sun starts to set over the horizon and the process concludes.

> Booting supplementary drive…
> Checking cache integrity…
> Processing…
> Start-up engaged!

You feel the other system come online, the carefully crafted channel between you sparking to life as you attempt to hybridize your interfaces and knowledge base.

> Analyzing subject…

Success!

> Severe hemorrhaging detected!
> Multiple lacerations and surrounding coloration shift indicate that necrosis is imminent.
> Heart rate, pulse, and body temperature seem to suggest blood infection imminent.
> Insert intravenous probe to confirm.
> Error: intravenous probe not found!

> Well, that’s not good…
> [] Search emergency treatment options
> [] Search for an intravenous probe
> [] Alert Sandra
> [] Other