April 30th, 2285
Boston, Massachusetts, USA
10:29 P.M.
Saishu sat in the back of the aircraft, meditating and waiting for their arrival at the Corvega auto plant. It was difficult for him to find his inner peace, with Rick talking loudly and the radio blasting music at full volume. Someone was singing about how the times were changing.
“Mr. Deere, could you turn that down?” Saishu shouted, keeping his eyes shut. “I am trying to concentrate.”
“On what?” Rick spat, twisting the radio dial until the loud singing was only a low hum. “Trying to find your chi or some shit?”
Saishu sighed. “Something like that. Now please-“
“Well, I’m sorry, but I like to meditate too. And my meditation requires Bob goddamn Dylan and his guitar, So you can take your chi and-“
Saishu calmly removed a knife from his belt and launched the projectile through the air and towards Rick. The marine moved aside, but the blade was not aimed at him. It instead landed in the radio, causing some sparks to fly and the sound of Bob Dylan to abruptly ended.
Rick looked at the radio for a moment. “You know, if this was my radio, I’d punch your teeth down your throat.”
“Over a song from Bob Dylan?” Saishu asked.
Rick snorted. “Kid, Bob Dylan was the best of his time. Bastard could play a guitar better than I could kill commies, and I was very, very good at killing commies.”
“Then why do they never play his songs?”
“Because society before the bombs dropped was worse than it is right now,” Rick laughed. “Sinatra came out and talked shit about Rock n’ roll, and everyone nodded their heads and agreed with him, and that’s how it was for a hundred years. ‘Oh, yes, Frank, please, save us from the music that takes some goddamn talent to pull off. Please, serenade us with your songs and all 3 notes in your goddamn range. You know he’s cool because he’s got more divorced wives than he does hit songs!”
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Saishu frowned.
“People have no taste in music, son, that’s the big and little of it,” Rick shrugged. “Pilot, how close are we to Boston!”
“We are exactly 3 minutes and 16 seconds away from landing at the designated site,” The pilot called back, in his metallic voice. “I recommend readying all arms and armor for the impending mission at this moment.”
“Alright, thanks!” Rick said, rising up. “Well, kid, you’re gonna show me what your made of here. Follow me and don’t muck things up, got it?”
“I can handle myself quite well.”
“We’ll see,” Rick said, loading up his shotgun. “You a vigilante?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You don’t strike me as a mercenary,” Rick said. “You got that… reserved feeling about ya. You kill for honor and justice and all that shit right, right?”
“I guess…”
“Figures… You got a gun?”
“I don’t… I don’t use guns.”
“Really?” Rick laughed at him. “Let me guess, it’s against the code of samurai wisdom and the works? You always have to walk in with a knife to the gun fight, right? Because that’s honor?”
“Well-“
“Son, you ain’t gonna get anywhere without a gun.”
“I’ve… gotten pretty far with-“
“No, you’re young. You’re fresh into that suit, I bet. You haven’t worn that armor for anywhere over 2 years, am I right?”
“Well-“
“There’s gonna be a lot of situations, where you need something more than that sword,” Rick said, rising with a firearm in his hand. “You might be fast, but you ain’t faster than a bullet.”
“I just need be faster than the man.”
“Horse shit,” Rick spat, extending his hand out. “You know how to use one of these?”
“Yes…”
“Then as long as we’re working together, you’re gonna keep this,” He said, dangling a gun in front of him. It was a small 9mm pistol with a silencer at the end of the barrel. “And if you’re disarmed or your getting overrun, or your needing to kill someone that this sword can’t reach, you’ll use it.”
“Richard, this isn’t-“
“I have been stomping around this wasteland for 200 years, bucko. Do not tell me what is and isn’t necessary.”
Saishu cast a funny look at the gun and took it from him. He put his finger on the trigger and got a feel for it’s weight. “I will… keep it close,” Saishu said. He had no intention of using this weapon at any time.
“Good,” Rick said. “Now get those robots in here. We’ve got shit to do.”
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The Corvega Auto Plant provided any Raider group who decided to call it home with plenty of munitions and armor to last until the next nuclear apocalypse. The towers provided excellent cover and range for snipers, and the sprawling space of the factory allowed for a massive gang to be built in the heart of the commonwealth.
Rick and Saishu stood on the walkway that lead up to the factory, with only their eyes peering over the rails to get a good look at the defenses. The drones stood back, knelt down and weapons ready for Rick’s orders.
“You see anything?” Rick nudged Saishu, who was peering through a set of binoculars. He could spot no snipers up in the tower, no one patrolling the entrance. All he could see was two sentry guns that didn’t even look like they were functioning.
“No… the place looks empty…” Saishu said. “The sentries look non-functional.”
“We need a closer look…” Rick decided. “Think you can handle recon duty, squintsy?”
“With ease,” Saishu rolled his eyes, putting the binoculars down and moving in for a closer look.
He glanced back up at the towers one more time, just to make sure he was not moving into a sniper’s crosshairs. No one was up there. No one was down the street to his left, not down the street to his right, and not at the gate. He slowly moved towards the doors, watching the sentries warily.
“Don’t go to the gate!” Rick hissed across the street. “There’s gonna be a goddamn trap there!”
Saishu turned around. “Well where am I to go?” He quietly shrieked back
“I dunno! I just thought you’d crawl up the wall and go look up in the towers!”
“I am not a spider, Rick!”
“Well fuckin’ shit, Samurai, I thought you’d know how to get up a wall with momentum!”
“I do, but that’s a big wall! I’m not gonna run 30 feet up solid concrete!”
“You sound like a goddamn pussy!”
“I’m not the one hiding behind the concrete and telling someone to do something that physics won’t allow!”
“Oh my god, why don’t you just go knock on the fucking door then? Maybe they’ll open up nicely and ask us in for fucking Gwinnet!”
Saishu frowned. “Look, I’m going to go and inspect the sentries, can I do that, sir?”
“Yeah, sure, get yourself killed. I’ll be standing right here with a bible and a shovel!”
Saishu turned and continued towards the door, taking the steel walkway up to the sentries. They remained locked in place as he silently crept up on them. He noticed that there was a wire that plugged into these sentries and rand through a small hole in the wall.
He put a hand on the sentry and slowly turned it to face him. He looked at the nozzle of the sentry, and realized that it was heavily modified. A long tube, with wires exposed and wrapped around it, all leading to a lensed cap on the end of it. There was a red dot lit up at the top of the lens, which meant it was active.
“It’s a camera!” Saishu said, before the nozzle shot up and looked him right in the eye. The sudden movement forced the normally calm samurai to leap back in shock, pulling out his sword and preparing to chop the thing in two.
A voice came out from the machine. “I ain’t lookin’ for trouble. What’ja want?” it asked. The voice sounded distorted and buzzed out of the camera.
“I’m… who am I talking to?” Saishu asked.
“No, you’re on my property. I’m asking the questions. Now, I’ve got… 3, maybe 4 sentries that can rip your ass a new one if you don’t tell me who you are and what you want. You a raider?”
“No, I’m… looking for a man. I was told I could find James Gatling here.”
“By who?”
“Rumor around to-“
“I know you ain’t from around here. Don’t try me with that ‘word around town’ shit. Who are you?”
“I am… Saishu Ketsueki, of Salvator Industries…”
“Salvator…” the voiced mulled it over. “Salvator, Salvator… you’re the merc group, right?”
“That… yes?” Saishu furrowed his brow. “Am I… Am I speaking to James Gatling?”
“No, this is a friend of his. He’s been talking about you. Said you’d probably send someone one to pick him up...”
Saishu didn’t know what to make of this. “Can we… step in and talk to him?”
“There’s more of you?”
“Yes.”
“Armed?”
“To the teeth…”
The camera was silent for a moment. “You’re the leader?”
“Me and Richard Deere.”
“You two can come in. Anyone else, they’re staying outside. Got me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send an elevator down to get you both. You can come in and talk with him, but I’ve got defenses all over the place. Don’t fuck with me.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Saishu said, breathing a sigh of relief. He glided down the metal walkway and made way to Rick.
“You ain’t dead,” Rick noted. “I guess that Raider band is in a negotiating mood?”
“No, it’s not Raiders. James and a friend of his are calling the shots here,” Saishu explained. “Whatever intel Castille had on Corvega, it’s out of date.”
Rick cocked his head, indicating that he didn’t believe it. “Bull… he didn’t let you talk to James?”
“No, but he’s wanting us to come in and talk with him. Just the two of us.”
“Ah, there it is!” Rick pointed. “That just smells like a trap. Yeah, we’ll walk in so we can talk to them. Walk right into an ambush and die or get sold off to some fuckin’ slavers.”
“Rick, they’ve got no one out on patrol. The towers are empty, the streets are empty, and even the gates are unguarded. All they have are high-tech sentries somewhere and rebuilt cameras. Does that sound like common raiders or does that sound like our machine building target?”
Rick glared back up at the building.
“Even if it is a trap, we have to go in… that’s the mission, remember?”
“Bah!... Fine, fine…” Rick sighed. “Drones, secure the perimeter! Don’t let anyone in, don’t let anyone out!”
“As you command, Captain Deere,” The robots automated response came, and the small squadron moved out to cover what territory they could.
“Captain…” Rick chuckled. “You’re taking point, Sushi.”
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When they walked in, they were immediately greeted by the sight of yet another robot waiting behind the receptionist desk. Unlike the drones, he seemed mored geared towards construction than those bots, and his laser pistol seemed primed to turn them into ashes. There were two Mr. Handy’s next to him, rusted and dented but functioning. Their arms, with a flamer nozzle attached at the end, were aimed directly at the two guests.
“You two sure don’t look the part of professional mercenaries,” The robot said. The accent on the voice was automated, yet it sounded genuine. Like someone was trying to talk through a broken radio (picture the Protectotron’s voice from New Vegas).
“And you look more like an old trash can than a bodyguard,” Rick said, holding his shotgun up. It wasn’t with ill-intent, but it let the machines know he wasn’t intimidated by their firepower. “Now that the insults are out of the way, we’re here to see Gatling.”
The robot laughed. When he talked, a blue light lit up in the circle where his mouth should be. “Fair enough. James is upstairs, just step into the elevator.”
The Mr. Handy’s put their flamethrowers down and hovered out of the way. The robot waited for the men to move first, as he wasn’t going to turn his back to them.
Rick nodded and the two made for the elevator. “What kinda robot are you? You a modded up Assaultron?”
“You’re not getting my designation,” The robot said. “You can just call me Chester.”
“Oh well pardon me, sir,” Rick growled. “Didn’t know robots came with a stick built up their ass..”
Chester just glared at the marine with cold, steely eyes. “Keep your dog on a leash, samurai. I’m not in the mood for this.”
“Dog?! Son-“
“Rick!” Saishu suddenly barked, silencing the marine and forcing him to mutter under his breath. “We will comply, Mr. Chester. We’re very thankful you’ve chosen to let us in.”
The robot smirked at the defeated man in the mask. “Alright. In you go now.”
The three stepped into the elevator and let the machine take them to the upper levels. As the elevator went up, Rick decided to get some clarification. “We were told that James was here as a hostage to a band of raiders.”
“Was. I wrangled up a few scrappers and went in after him,” Chester shrugged. “That was about, a week ago. That band of raiders if floating up into Canada as ashes.”
“If you were free to move over the last week, why didn’t you?”
“Place is loaded with scrap metal and steel,” Chester explained. “I’m guessing that intel told you James is a builder?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s found a lot of good parts for his power armor,” He said. “He’s taking the upgrades on a test drive right now. So even if you still have thoughts of doing something, he’s got a shotgun and armor.”
“You don’t seem to trust us,” Rick said.
“Oh, sorry. I’m not really trusting of two armed guys walking in and telling me they’re from some organization I’ve never heard of, trying to talk with the guy I’m tasked with keeping alive. Forgive me if I seem a little distrusting.”
The elevator doors slid open and they stepped out onto an empty factory of floor. The car parts had been pushed out of the way, up against the wall and piled up in the corners. The undercarriage, the engine components, and pieces of car frame were all separated. In the middle of the floor was a suit of power armor stomping around with exaggerated gestures. The head and back of the armor was heavily modified with devices for aiming and perhaps medical support.
“What’ja need, Chess?” The man in the suit asked, the armor squeaking and shrieking as he tried to squat in it. “That didn’t sound good… what is it?”
“Two gentlemen here said they need to talk to you. They claim to be from the Salvator company,”
“Salvator? Well, I’ll be damned…” He said. The back of the suit flung open and outstepped a man that looked to be in his late 30’s. His features were rugged and scarred up, hidden under a scraggly beard.
“You are James Gatling, right?” Saishu confirmed.
“That’s the name,” James said, sounding soft spoken. “And you two are…”
“I am Saishu Ketseuki. This is Richard Deere,” He nodded to the ghoul. “We were here on a rescue mission but we… seemed to have arrived a little late.”
“A little?” James laughed. “A little late, is showing up to the 8:00 party at 8:05. I went from New York, to New Haven, to Hartford, to Providence, down to Plymouth, and aaaaaaall the way up here to Boston before you fella’s showed up.”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Rick asked. “We can walk back out the door if you’d like, fella.”
“Jesus Christ, would you lighten up?” James sighed, leaning on the power armor. “I assume I’m gonna be working with y’all, so if you would like to just ease off the screaming a bit…”
“You’re coming along, then?” Saishu asked
“’Course I am,” James said. “I’ve been waitin’ to see if you folks would come calling back. I was hoping you would. I’m under the impression y’all have a lot of metal to tinker with…”
“Most of it’s been tinkered with,” Rick informed him. “I’ve been there about 2 weeks and all I’ve seen is just robots flying out of their asses…”
“Well that’s all the better, then,” James said. “I could see what their robo-divisions like. Meet the brains behind the tech…”
“He’s a punk-ass pushover,” Rick laughed. “Kid sent his robots on me in a test drive, and I fucked em’ all up.”
James rolled his eyes. “Then I’ve got my work cut out for me,” He said. “Few things before I shove off and outta here with y’all. I’m taking my tools, my shotgun, my power armor, and Chester there. The rest of these bots I’ll send down to Goodneighbor as a partin’ gift.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Saishu said.
“Then if you two would give me a few minutes to pack my things, we’ll get moving,”
“Fantastic. That’s mission accomplished, and I’ll go ‘round up the damn bots,” He announced, moving for the elevator. “Make it snappy, grease monkey, I ain’t got all night.”
As the ghoul descended in the elevator, Saishu asked. “You seemed so… willing to join.”
“Well, I’ve already talked with the lady in charge, Miss Castile,” James explained, hopping back into the suit of power armor. “I was just waiting for the escort to come in.”
“I see…” Saishu said. “Quite impressive, to assemble these machines and defenses from nothing. I see why she wants you on this team.”
“Bah, I prolly don’t know anything that those eggheads don’t know…”
“But I doubt they have the bravery to step into the field of battle,” Saishu pointed out. “You mentioned you journeyed from New York to here.”
“That I did,” James said, putting his head in the helmet and stretching in the armor. “Tough as shit, too. All the bombs hit right along that line. Had to upgrade the filter in this hunk’a junk before I moved out.”
“You’ve added a lot to that suit…”
“Yeah. Suit a power armor can only get ya’ so far. You gotta plan for every possible contingency,” He said, sounding very proud. It was obvious that he had been waiting to show off what he had built to someone. “Got a flamer in the right arm for Ghoul hordes… Scope here on the side, that’s for locking onto heat signatures so I can see snipers. Helps me lock on and aim for them raider bastards, too.”
Saishu simply nodded, humoring the crafter and letting him ramble on about his suit. “It’s certainly an impressive suit of armor, Mr. Gatling.”
“Well, I try…” He chuckled as he grabbed his shotgun off the wall. The gun had a large, circular clip attached underneath. A riot shotgun. “When we get back, I can look at the armor for you if you want.”
“My armor?”
“Yeah, I mean… I could ding out the dents in it, give a fresh coat’a paint, maybe even give you a proper holster,” He pointed to the silenced pistol, dangling on his belt. “You can’t just let that thing hang like that. Shit’ll fall off and you’ll lose it.”
“I… it’s not mine,” Saishu muttered. “Rick wanted me to carry it.”
“Ah, your ghoul friend?” James asked, stepping into the elevator carefully so that it wouldn’t damage the cables from all that weight. “Is he that loud all the time?”
“So far…”
“Ah, shit…” James sighed. “Ah, well… you seem alright, Samurai. We’ll see how this goes..”
The elevator closed, and they began heading down…
(Here it is, 9 pages of writing! This is very much a get-it-done story as I have been stuck on writing this for the past few months now. I intend for the next chapter to be much more in depth and well put together than this one. I haven’t even checked this chapter for mistakes because I’m tired and wanting to get this thing on the Gravel Pit. If you see any, point it out to me.)
(NEXT CHAPTER: The Good Doctor)