Ultra-Luxe - The Gourmand"I request the floor once more," Titus said, raising a hand, "All military actions between the NCR and Legion have been halted. A state of armistice has been declared by General Shu and Caesar. Delegates, with this turn of events I propose we adjourn this meeting and return home to our respective states. Furthermore, I propose that we reconvene in one months time to negotiate the full and lasting peace terms that will ensure stability in the West. If there are no objections....I will take my leave."
Barnaky raised his hand, and when given the floor, rose to speak.
"I second the motion to adjourn..", Barnaky said, "...and to reconvene in one month's time for the purpose of negotiating a final settlement. I would like to say at this time that my delegation and I shall remain in New Vegas for another day, and would be pleased to meet with anyone who has business with my Order. Thank you."
He then sat down.
After the formalities were out of the way, and the meeting was formally adjourned, a member of the Alaskan delegation approached.
"I had hoped we could meet after this", North said, "I had a matter to discuss. One you might find interesting. Perhaps we can meet later at my room, 108?"
"Certainly", Barnaky replied, "I would be pleased to meet with you...would 6:00 PM be convenient?"
@VATROU30,000 feet above Northern Indiana - 0130 CT the next day"Four minutes", said a voice coming from one of the speakers in each trooper's helmet, "opening rear cargo door".
The red interior lights suddenly went out and before them, the rear cargo hatch of the old C-130 smoothly swung open, revealing the inky black night sky behind their aircraft. Inside the cargo area, three lines of armored figures, stood shoulder to shoulder, with nine others right behind them, all excited and apprehensive at the same time, as they waited patiently for the command to proceed. They had done this before....but only in training exercises, this time it was an actual mission.
"Two minutes", the voice spoke again as a buzzer sounded and a red light on each side of the open hatch lit up, "Form up." Immediately, each trooper put their right hand on the shoulder of the trooper ahead of them, and prepared themselves to drop. After what seemed an eternity, the buzzer sounded again and the red light changed to yellow.
"One minute.....stand by."
Finally, the buzzer sounded again, and the light turned green.
"Able squad...GO, GO, GO!"
The troopers in the right hand column immediately rushed forward, and stepped off the open ramp of the aircraft and began to plummet into the night. As the last trooper stepped off, the voice spoke again "Bravo, GO, GO, GO!" and the middle column followed, and finally Charlie squad on the left was given the cue to join them. At the same time, on the second aircraft in the fight, Delta and Echo squads, as well as a group of five specially configured Assaultrons, deployed from their aircraft as well. Their troops disembarked, the two pre-war cargo aircraft closed their cargo doors and banked sharply Northwest, towards their base in Chicago. In the air, each squad joined hands and formed up in a circle, and glided towards their unsuspecting targets below as they fell. Markle, Indiana - 2:15 AMThe Mutant shook his head sadly as he approached the old Super Duper Mart. Two in the morning, and the place was still jumping, he could hear the music ten yards away. Perhaps the Raider crews...human and ghoul...that made up the garrison here thought they were ready for anything, but he knew better. Worse, he wasn't really sure if Rocksalt...he refused to call him "Rog'Resh" as he styled himself now...understood that Barnaky's Brotherhood was far more dangerous than the East Coast Brotherhood that they'd beaten before....though of course he failed to credit whoever took out their robot up in Boston and wiped out much of their leadership for making that success a whole lot easier, if even possible. He'd tried again and again to explain it to him, and that they needed to prepare, but it all fell on deaf ears. When he'd suggested...a error as he saw now...that perhaps he should consider asking The Prophet for aid, once he calmed down from the tantrum he threw over it, he exiled him here. Rocksalt didn't call it exile, of course....officially he had been put in charge of defending the frontiers. But exile it was....it'd be a while before he was allowed back into Ft Wayne again.
The Mutant trudged past the old Super-Duper Mart sign, altered with letters in half a dozen different fonts to read "Animal Planet". For the edification of anyone who viewed it as to what one could find inside, atop the sign....carefully illuminated with spotlights, was a giant mannequin, in this case from a "Big Boy" Burger Shop, cheerfully mounting the Atomic Tire Girl, bending over a giant pair of dice, from behind. The burger he originally held up on a plate had been replaced with a giant can of Duff beer. Someone had clearly gone to great effort to cobble it together. The Mutant shook his head again....if only they had shown such effort when it came to the defenses at the bridge.
The Mutant walked past, and approached the door. One of the pair of Raiders on guard opened the door for him.
"Evening, Boss!", the Raider said.
"Evening", the Mutant rumbled. "Seen Butcher Peg?"
"No Boss", he replied, "but our shift just started....don't know if she's inside or not."
The Mutant emitted a grunt that meant thanks, and walked in. The stench of stale cigarette smoke, booze, sweat...and sex...hit him like a blast to the face as he walked inside. the Bouncer at the weapon check counter pressed a button and the door leading inside opened for him, and he went into the main room. The place was packed, as usual. Raiders from all across Eastern Indiana and Northern Ohio, not to mention traders and locals with guts, lounged about, or sat at tables eating, drinking, gambling, and screwing. The business model was unusual, to say the least...it was a brothel with no fixed stable of girls, or even private rooms to do their business. Instead, any girl (or man, though that was not common) that wanted to "work" traded thier clothes..locked up by the House for safety and collateral...for a order pad and serving tray, and worked as both a waitress and a menu item for a shift of not less than four hours. When hired, they did it then and there, in full view of everyone. The customer paid for sex, booze, chems, chips, whatever, with tokens purchased from the House which the girls turn in for caps paid out when their shift is done. As neutral ground, it was a popular place for Raiders from rival gangs to conduct open negotiations...and behind the scenes liasons. The Mutant...not having entirely forgotten his Vault upringing....thought it was disgusting but interfering would incite a full-scale mutiny, especially since the leaders of both Raider groups based here were receiving a substantial cut of the profits to provide security and guarantee the safety of people they would normally kill on sight.
As the Mutant made his way to the bar, the music stopped and the PA turned on with a whine as a spotlight turned on and focused on a spot on the dance floor.
"Ladies and Gentlemen...if there are any here", a oily voice called out with a laugh, "If you'll direct your attention to the dance floor, we've got a surprise for you!" some laughter and catcalls began as a female ghoul, clad in a rough woolen robe, walked out on the dance floor, pulling along a somewhat reluctant Caravaneer by the hand with her. The Mutant recognized her as one of the feral handlers. Once under the spotlight, they stopped and the ghoul raised her and the Caravaneer's arm above her head. The crowd began to cheer.
"Let me tell you good folks a little story. Once upon a time there was a man named...wait, what's your name again, dude?", the announcer asked the now very nervous man.
"B-Billy", he stammered.
"Right", the announcer said. "There once was a fellow named Billy, and he liked to play cards. But fortunately or unfortunately depending on your point of view, he sucks at it. Well, he comes to this fine establishment to play some cards. And he meets the heroine of our story....Sandra. Sandra is faster than a Corvega Rocket 69, but she has a problem...ever since she made some unfortunate life decisions that ended up with her taking a bath in the Detroit River, she has a hard time finding a driver who can get her motor running, ifyouknowwhatImean." Sandra replied to this by giving the finger in the direction of the announcer booth in mock anger. "Anyway, unlike Billy she happens to be really good at cards. Just look at him, ladies...handsome isn't he?" Several female voices shouted out in approval. "Well, it was a match made in heaven...for Sandra at least. You know how this goes...one thing lead to another and Sandra wins all his caps at the poker table. Isn't that sad?" More laughter and catcalls from the crowd. "Well, he has a wife and three kids to feed...don't we all?..so Sandra took pity on him and made him a offer....they would play one more hand and if he won, he got all his caps back and got to put Sandra to work for a shift, and pocket all her proceeds! Generous?" The crowd replied approvingly. "You're damn right she is! Out of the goodness of her heart, she even agreed to give him
half of his caps back if she won...all he had to do is earn his "Rad Wings" with her right here, and right now, in front of God, Atom, someone best not Named, and whoever else might be up there, and everybody." He then added, "I don't think I have to explain who won that hand, do I?"
At this the crowd began to applaud, stomping on the floor shouting "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!
"Yes!", the announcer said, "It's Ghouls night out! Sweetie, take the Juice to the floor!"
A rather sweaty waitress, wearing nothing but high heels, strutted out to where the pair stood, holding up a tray with a single shot glass on it. She stopped before the couple and held it out for Sandra shrugged off the robe, revealing herself to be nude underneath, her radiation ravaged form adding to Billy's discomfort. Sandra took the shot glass, emptied it into her mouth, then placed it back on the tray upside down, and the waitress retreated. She then pulled Billy to her, gripping his head tightly and kissing him hard on the mouth, pushed her tongue into his mouth. At first he struggled to get free, but as the ant queen pheromones took hold his struggling became increasingly feeble, then suddenly he began to return the kiss heatedly. The crowd roared with approval as the pair, now both in the heat of chemically induced passion, began working together frantically to disrobe Billy without breaking the kiss.
"Aw look", the announcer said with amusement as things began to get really heated, "Billy seems to have made a new friend!" The
music began again, at a low volume to avoid drowning out the main event.
The Mutant sighed with resignation. For some reason the Raiders here never seemed to tire of watching Wastelanders and ghouls fuck.....but at least they kept it consensual here. He'd seen far worse in his time. He then turned to the bar, and leaned on it with one massive arm.
"Peg here?", he asked the Bartender.
"Upstairs", he said, nodding in the direction of the second floor that had been erected inside he cavernous building, where the set leaders traditionally held court and plotted schemes with and against their neighbors. "She is "negotiating" with the Huntington Boys."
"Thanks", the Mutant replied, rolling his eyes as he got up to head for the stairs. Peg...or Butcher Peg to use her full name...was by far his most able lieutenant, but she was very ambitious. Her ambition and ruthlessness...and a lot of buffout...had gotten her out of slavery. Taken from a farm somewhere in Ohio in her teens, she started at the bottom as a slave who, when not being raped herself, made herself useful to the gang by volunteering to dispatch the other sex toys her gang had tired of and butcher them for their meat. From there, she worked her way up to being essentially a common wife for the gang..a small but important distinction as a slave could, and often was, killed on a whim but a "wife" could only be killed by order of the Boss...using that role to get enough support to win her spurs as a full member, and more recently, with some assistance from him...he had found it necessary to establish his authority by strangling her predecessor to death with his bare hands shortly after he arrived...rise to become the Boss herself. He was aware she had designs of eliminating Slade, the leader of Markle's other gang, and making herself Overboss of both gangs. While he could do without Slade....he was a hopeless Psycho addict and dangerously unstable, not to mention incapable of thinking strategically....the last thing he needed was a Gang War here. One look at a road map made it clear that one day, soon, Barnaky's Legions were going to be rolling up the Interstate and if they weren't ready he would squash them like bugs. He had already lost one war to that monster, and he wasn't about to lose a second. He had mixed feelings about the Cult...he did not approve of their methods...but he hated Barnaky with every fiber of his being and was willing to pay any price to bring him and his Regime down. The man had taken too much for him to ever let it go.
As he approached the crude wooden stairs, a pair of men in the colors of the Huntington Boys sheepishly descended the stairs, the rear one still fumbling with the fly of his road leathers. They nodded at him in acknowledgement, then scuttled away with guilty demeanor. The Huntington Boys had started just after the War as a "Farmer's Militia" to protect the settlement in Huntington...a goal they were quite successful at due to the presence of a National Guard Armory. But like such groups often do...when the threat they faced receded...they eventually became what they had originally banded together to fight, Raiders. Once Rocksalt left The Pitt to come to Fort Wayne, they, like every gang in the area, were faced with a choice between Rocksalt's way or the highway. They, having roots in the area, were one of the gangs that chose to serve....as Rocksalt was not concerned with the day to day affairs of his affiliates, it worked out for them quite well. As for those who didn't, they either left or ended up dead or on the auction block....he'd led several of the campaigns himself. Obviously Peg had been tipped off in the middle of her "negotiations" he was coming and sent them away....for now, at least.
As he climbed the stairs, he heard Peg's voice...a single word, "clean". Reaching the top, he saw Peg, nude and sweaty, lolling in her favorite arm chair. Peg was in her prime, a woman of about thirty, tall and well-muscled, even before her Buffout regimen made her look like a Amazon out of a Grognak comic. Her entire body, except her face, hands and feet, was covered in tattoos. Her head was shaved on the sides, the rest of her hear was left long and gathered in a pony tail. She was gently toying with the hair of her favorite slave Kitty, wearing a red sequin dress, who was crouched between her open legs, obediently carrying out her Mistress's order, while Peg watched with interest the show on the dance floor. The Mutant glanced over and noticed that Sandra and Billy had been joined by another female ghoul....before the chems wore off the hapless Wastelander will likely have been coaxed into servicing every female ghoul in the place....he would certainly earn his caps back.
"What do you need, Frank?", Peg asked distractedly, keeping her eyes on the dance floor. "I'm in play...House rules...you caught me naked. If you've got a token and looking for some...what was that word you used,
frottage?...I've got the rubber sheets and Wesson Oil. You seemed to like that....I know I did." She chuckled then added sincerely, "No shit."
"I'm not here for that, Peg", Frank replied, "What are you planning with the Huntington boys?"
Peg leaned forward and reached over to the side table next to her chair with her free hand, and fumbled with a pack of Victory cigarettes and pulled one out and stuck it in her mouth, then settled back into her chair and turned to look at Frank.
"Spark me", she said. Humoring her, he picked up the battered old lighter from the table and lit her cigarette, then put the lighter down. Peg blew smoke in Frank's direction then answered. "do you really want me to answer that question, Frank?"
"Want? No", Frank said. "Need? Yeah. Just got word....Barnaky's people overran Castleton a few hours ago. Indy is cut off, now."
"Fuck me", Peg replied, exhaling another drag, "They're on 69
already? Seriously, what the fuck are those idiots doing down there?"
"I warned them and Rocksalt that this would happen", Frank said grimly, "And now it has. We're squarely in the path of a shitstorm, Peg, and I don't need the distraction of you trying to move up in the world right now. When the time is right, we'll discuss your future...but not before then."
"Alright, alright!", Peg exclaimed, conceding defeat, "You win!. I'll leave Slade alone until this shit is sorted." She then pointed at him. "but you know as well as I do that fucktard is a liability. You should have killed him too and you know it!"
"Baby steps, Peg", Frank replied sternly, "I could only kill
one of those idiots....I chose Roach as a favor to
you, and you'd do well to remember that! I..."
Frank was interrupted as the power abruptly went out, plunging the whole interior into darkness. At first, the reaction from the crowd was bemusement and irritation. Flashlights snapped on and one of the bouncers, flashlight in hand, headed for the back to check the breaker box as the patrons kvetched and catcalled at him.
"Why haven't the emergency lights come on?", asked Peg ominously. "They're on batteries...I had that shit checked out last week!" She then spoke to Kitty. "Stop that and get me a flashlight!"
it was then that one of the bouncers heading to the back suddenly cried out in pain and dropped his flashlight, which went skittering along the floor.
Then the
music began....a recording of a wild martial air played on shrill instruments backed up with drums....and Frank's blood ran cold as he recognized what it meant.
And all hell broke loose.
As the infernal music played loudly, people below began to scream, and before long pistol fire began to ring out as frightened patrols began shooting blindly in all directions, hitting others and panic spread like a virus. Frank readied his Super Sledge and stood at the top of the stairs, trying to gauge where their unseen assailants were. Suddenly, someone wormed their way under his arms.
"Open your mouth, Frank!", Peg hissed. Though the request seemed odd, he complied, and what felt like a plastic bottle was pushed into his mouth, dumping pills into it. "It's Cateye...swallow it!" Frank did, and after a moment, he found he could see. Peg ducked out from under his arms, and grabbed the belt-fed 5.56 LMG that had been leaning against the side table. "there's a ladder in back that leads to the emergency lights...I'm gonna get the lights back on...you deal with whatever the fuck
that is!" She looked over at Kitty, cowering nearby. "You hide!". she then darted off. Frank turned and headed down the stairs. Thanks to the Cateye, and the holes in the ceiling of the decrepit old building, he could now see. It didn't take long before he spotted the attacker...there seemed to be only one...running on a Stealth Boy, cutting down helpless patrons left and right as they darted about. Frank charged, and with a mighty roar, took a swing at the fast moving assailant that caught them unawares and sent them flying at least ten feet right into the jukebox, smashing it, and causing the shrill music to come to a sudden stop. The stealth field also dropped, revealing the assailant was a Assaultron, a Brotherhood logo painted neatly on it's torso. Frank snarled in triumph and rage, and rushed forward, winding up for another swing. But once he had committed to the swing, to Frank's surprise the robot suddenly moved, and the Super Sledge connected with the already ruined jukebox.
"Missed me, Mutie!", brayed the robot in an all too familiar voice, then it took a thrust with the sword in it's hand at his leg, which glanced off the armored plate on his calf, "You'll have to do better than that!"
"Fuck you, Fascist!", Frank retorted angrily, taking another swing, "You wouldn't talk that way if you were standing there, instead of being safe in your jar!"
"Did I trigger you, snowflake?", Barnaky sneered as he dodged the massive hammer, "Well, my pussy hurts!" He then added, "But as far as your accusation...I killed plenty of you..things..myself before I ascended, and I'm not nearly done yet!"
Suddenly, the lights came back on, revealing the carnage that Barnaky had wrought. Bodies were everywhere....and groaning wounded were crawling for the exits.
"Now that's just wrong....", Barnaky said with distaste as the robot's optical sensors switched back on from infrared and he could see all too clearly Billy and Sandra were still furiously copulating on the floor, completely oblivious to what had just happened around them, "What the hell is
wrong with you people?" He then looked back at Frank. "Frank? Frank Mitchell? Yes....It is you!" Barnaky crowed with a laugh. "Outstanding! Today must be my fucking birthday!" The Assaultron's headlaser immediately began to charge, Frank dived for cover just in time as it fired a beam through the spot he had been standing a split second later, blasting a hole five feet wide through the far wall.
"Damn!", Barnaky exclaimed, "I missed!" He then looked over at the front, the commotion coming from the entrance made it clear that reinforcements were arriving. "It's been fun, Frank...but as I say, 'business before pleasure'.....got places to be, Ta!" Barnaky then headed for the door, but as it jumped through the still red-hot hole in the sheet steel wall, a burst of automatic weapons fire from the rear connected with the robot, blasting both it's legs off. Momentum caried it through, though. Peg, still naked, ran up to the wall and looked outside. The robot was actually walking on it's hands, heading for the old truck terminal, where they housed the ferals, at a surprisingly quick pace.
"It's heading for the feral pen!", Peg shouted as she raised the LMG to her shoulder and fired a long burst, "Stop it before it frees them!"
Frank charged past her, and out into the night....thankfully she stopped shooting. Barnaky was moving quickly, but Frank caught up without much trouble and a short swing wrecked one arm and the now immobile robot crashed to the ground. Frank flipped it over with his foot so it could see him.
"I bet you're feeling rather proud of yourself right now", Barnaky said, "You killed a robot...congratufuckinglations, Frank!"
"You'll pay, Barnaky!", Frank seethed, "For Lincoln, for the people you've just killed, for everything!"
"Your Cult friends gonna get revenge for you, Frank?", Barnaky replied mockingly, "Wake up genius, they're playing you like a sucker! Trust me, I've never lied to you...they're using you like a Jimmy Hat, and once they blow their goo in you, they'll peel you off their pecker and throw you aside without a thought! Ha!" Barnaky scoffed, "All you are is a pawn, fighting other people's wars...first for the Master, and now for that freak in Pittsburgh! Have you even
listened to the shit they put out on the radio?" He then added, "I've always been true to my principles....you, on the other hand, you're selling out everything the MLA claimed to believe in, and for what? To get even with
me? Guess what, Frank, I'm not the one pissing on the memory of your friends....it's you!"
"Shut up!" Frank bellowed as he raised the hammer and brought it down on the robot with all the strength he had, not because Barnaky was lying but because he knew what he said was true. His allies were just using him, and Rocksalt, and all the others. What hurt worse, though, is that it didn't even bother him anymore.
"Heh heh", Barnaky said, his voice now crackling from the massive damage the robot had suffered, "My work here is done....but it's gonna be a long night for you, Frank. Oh, yes... a long night indeed." with a wry chuckle, Barnaky's voice disappeared, replaced by that of the failing robot.
"Critical damage to all sub-systems", the robot said in the mechanical, female voice of an assaultron, "Mission complete. Self-destruction protocol initiated. ten...nine...eight..."
Frank ran back towards Animal Planet....when the count reached zero the robot exploded violently, and Frank felt the warm glow of the radiation from it's micro-nuke self destruct charge. He stopped and watched the small fireball boil up over the remains of the robot, a triumph if only a empty one. Peg ran up to him and stopped.
"Why was that robot talking like a real person, Frank?", Peg demanded, "What the fuck was that thing?"
"Barnaky", he replied softly, "It was Barnaky. He was controlling that Robot like a puppet."
"But why?", she asked.
A series of explosions just outside town, to the south....the exact direction of the State Route 3 Bridge....answered Peg's question before Frank could. They looked at each other in horror.
"The Bridges!", they said together. For the first time, they noticed the faint echoes of gunfire coming from far down the Interstate, which ran right along animal planet.
"Fuck!", Frank bellowed, "They're here to destroy the bridges!" Frank was furious with himself, he should have seen this coming. He turned to Peg. "I want everyone capable of carrying a gun and every vehicle in town still running in Animal Planet's parking lot in ten minutes!" Peg hesitated a bit, she had never seen him angry before. He then shouted, "Go!"
You got it, Boss!", Peg said, then whirled and ran towards the barracks as fast as her legs would carry her.
Frank bellowed in rage at the sky in helpless frustration. All he could hope for now is the bodies he had stationed at the bridge would be able to hold out long enough for them to get there.
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