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