Fallout: Florida , The Sunshine State's Post-Apocalyptic Wastes Options

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

Well, I never thought I'd be posting in this particular subforum before now. But with all these ideas bouncing in my head of what post-Great War Florida would look like in the Fallout universe, I have taken to jotting them down and (hopefully) making a cohesive guide to it. I don't really write fiction, so I don't think I'll be writing actual stories like you all do, but I suppose we'll see. For the time being, it's really going to be a guide of sorts, somewhat like a wiki or what textbooks would say.

This will obviously attempt to adhere to Fallout canon as much as possible. I chose Florida as the setting not only because it is my home state (though that is definitely the biggest reason) but because, from what I can tell, so little about the Southeastern United States is talked about in Fallout lore, giving me a lot more room to operate in. And, of course, it's the state I know best and would love to see the most as a setting for a Fallout game.

So here's the plan for all this:
[*] I'm going to break up each section of the guide into its own post to separate it sufficiently. This one will be the introduction to the setting.
[*] I may include some incomplete information on here for several reasons. For one, it'll be an easy repository to refer to just in case the Word doc I am using has something go screwy or that my computer messes up or whatever. Two, it can be a little taste of what's to come. Three, I just want to get down as much content as comes to me.
[*] The tentative list of sections to have here include, but are not limited to (and not necessarily in this order):

[*] General overview of the setting and how I am breaking up the parts of Florida
[*] The Bestiary
[*] The Timeline
[*] The Factions
[*] Profiles of each of the regions I am making

Some of the stuff you see will definitely be subject to change if needed to make it cohesive. I'll try to document what I change to make it clear.

And most of all, I hope you all like it and I'd like to hear whatever feedback you have. Presenting and communicating information is one of the things I enjoy most, although I'm more used to doing so for real-life content (particularly political science).

First section of the guide coming up!

The Setting - Basic Overview

While not experiencing the same level of nuclear barrage as places such as Southern California, New York, and D.C., Florida was plunged into nuclear fire just like virtually everywhere else in the world. This was especially true of the Tampa Bay Area, Orlando and its surrounding areas, and South Florida, centers of great economic and political importance in Pre-War America. Being the 3rd-most populous state in the country, the Great War extinguished far more lives than average here and left plenty more to pick up the pieces in the post-apocalyptic, anarchic wastes. The exceptional biological, geographical, and human diversity of Florida led to a far more varied impact on the former Sunshine State when the bombs fell.

Nevertheless, many settlements started to crop up in the decades just after the Great War, even in those once-densely populated cities and metropolitan areas. In time, former towns and cities were beginning to be resurrected and reclaiming their old names, and brand-new ones started to form. But post-War Florida--and the rest of what used to be the country's Gulf Commonwealth, Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi--was still highly fractured. In the 22nd century, the first of many ambitious attempts was made to reunite this once-thriving landscape. While extraordinarily difficult at first, a string of successes in reunification gave birth to the Gulf Coast Union, a nation similar in concept to the future New California Republic (NCR). The so-called Great Reunification--a somewhat hyperbolic title, at least currently--started extending through Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and even some of southwestern Georgia, though it has yet to reclaim the whole of any of these former states.

The process is far from completed, however, and many other factions both big and small struggle with the Gulf Coast Union for dominance in the former Southeastern United States. Many of the conflicts take place in what used to be the Sunshine State. The Gulf Coast Union was successful in claiming virtually all of Northern Florida and has made inroads into the Central Florida wastes. Major and minor powers violently feuding with each other and with the Gulf Coast Union have made the GCU's grip on these lands somewhat tenuous, preventing any attempts at expanding into South Florida.

As of this guide, it is currently the year 2130, over a half-century since the world was irrevocably changed. To most easily understand the lands that were once called Florida, it is best to divide the area into ten distinct regions--even if the divisions are a bit crude, arbitrary, or too convenient. Each have their own set of conflicts being waged, major and minor players vying for power, and civilizations trying to carve out a life in these harsh wastes. Welcome to the Sunshine State's post-apocalyptic wastes.

The Ten Regions and Their Counties

County Map
Here's how some coasts in Florida got their nicknames, though not all are explicitly mentioned here

Though these broken-up zones are somewhat crude and arbitrary, it'll be easiest to understand post-apocalyptic Florida this way. However, major conflicts in one region can definitely spill over into another.

1) Panhandle (13): Escambia, Santa Rosa, Okaloosa, Walton, Holmes, Washington, Bay, Jackson, Calhoun, Gulf, Liberty, Franklin, Gadsden
2) Big Bend (8): Leon, Wakulla, Jefferson, Madison, Taylor, Lafayette, Dixie, Levy
3) North Central Florida (8): Hamilton, Suwannee, Columbia, Baker, Union, Bradford, Alachua, Gilchrist
4) The First Coast (6): Nassau, Duval, Clay, St. Johns, Putnam, Flagler
5) The Space and Treasure Coasts (7): Volusia, Seminole, Brevard, Indian River, St. Lucie, Martin, Okeechobee
6) Central Florida (8): Marion, Sumter, Lake, Orange, Polk, Osceola, Hardee, Highlands
7) The Tampa Bay Area (6): Citrus, Hernando, Pasco, Pinellas, Hillsborough, Manatee
8) The Gold Coast (3): Palm Beach, Broward, Miami-Dade
9) Southwest Florida (7.5): Sarasota, De Soto, Charlotte, Glades, Lee, Hendry, Collier, Monroe (mainland only)
10) The Keys (0.5): Monroe (Keys only)


Just a quick side-note: The Panhandle West/East dichotomy is one I totally made up for my own purposes. They are, as far as I know, not referred to as such in real life. It is just the Panhandle, and the real-world Panhandle doesn't necessarily include all of the counties in Big Bend.

This post has been edited by RaderOfTheLostArk: Jun 9 2020, 01:30 AM

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

@SubRosa - Thank you. I personally almost always find it more interesting when there are 3+ factions involved in a political struggle instead of just 2. Of course, throwing in factions for the sake of it is detrimental, so I thought hard about how to make it work with 3 groups here. BUT...there may be another minor group or two that plays an important role too...

@Khajiit - Much appreciated. I'm having fun writing them whenever I get the chance to.

@Renee - Hopefully you were able to finish the chapter, because things are ramping up even more now.

----------------------------------------------

This chapter turned out to be longer than I expected, but it worked out, I think. I try to find the right balance of enough exposition to explain things while still leaving things up to the reader to piece together and imagine. Don't want to be confusing but I also don't want to handhold when readers are capable of figuring some things out on their own.

I also wanted to be true to the Fallout-style in another way: While things can get bleak and dark, there are touches of self-awareness and silliness to the setting. Hopefully I am succeeding on that front as well.

And look out for some subtle references to game mechanics incorporated as a normal part of the story. I did a few times in previous chapters and I've got at least a couple more in here.

----------------------------------------------

Chapter 7: An Unexpected Turn

Well, what now?

Mariah couldn’t stand the idea of just waiting for Darius to contact her. Who knew how long it would be until there was a development in the search for the F.A.C.T.? Even though there wasn’t much she could do, it felt like a waste of time to not do something about it. Mariah decided the only thing she could do, however, was take Darius’s advice and check out the rest of the town.

[Jerry Keller – Here Comes Summer]

Niceville was a rather sleepy settlement, especially compared to Pensacola. People could be seen walking about the street, but for the most part it was rather quiet. Remnants of the Old World could still often be seen. In one case, Mariah saw a poster for what appeared to be a local utility company—Panhandle Gas, Electric, and Nuclear, or PGEN for short—being bought out by the giant Poseidon Energy corporation. Mariah had become familiar with Poseidon over the course of her travels with its various ruins dotting the landscape, so it was a name she knew well. Poseidon, like a bunch of other Pre-War nationwide companies, also tried to establish a foothold in Florida, attempting to buy out local and state utility companies—PGEN being one of them. Judging by what she had been learning about the Pre-War strife between Florida’s state government and the federal government in particular, Mariah figured that many Floridians weren’t happy about Poseidon also wanting a piece of their pie.

There were also advertisements for enlisting in both the U.S. military forces and the Florida National Guard, another juxtaposition of the state vs. federal schism. Another sign for that Cooler Heads technology was barely legible on a brick wall of the one of most rundown buildings in the area. Posters for Pre-War local and state-level political candidates were also heavily faded.

As Mariah kept going south, the Choctawhatchee Bay came into clearer focus. The bay was the body of water sitting between the land where settlements like Niceville and the strip of land with the ruins of the small towns of Destin and Miramar Beach. On the other side of that strip of land was the Gulf of Mexico, a key part of the economic engine of the Gulf Commonwealth. She would have kept heading toward the bay, but yet another sign caught her eye. This time it was for something that was made Post-War, a place called the All-Faiths Center on a street called Valparaiso Boulevard. Curious, Mariah followed the directions to it. Years of erosion had wiped out the original font on the street signs in Niceville, but newer white paint had been applied to them to keep these old road names alive. Mariah had been going down what used to be Palm Boulevard. It intersected with this Valparaiso, and Mariah turned to her left to follow it to this All-Faiths Center.

When she reached the Center, it was quite an impressive sight—not so much from an aesthetic standpoint, but at the fact that it really did have a lot of different religions represented. It wasn’t a singular building, but rather a bunch of buildings side-by-side with various houses of worship. There was a Christian church, an Islamic mosque, a Jewish synagogue, a Buddhist monastery, a Hindu temple, and even a Sikh gurdwara, among several other types of religious places. The fact that a relatively small town could even have enough people to sufficiently represent these faiths—and that there would even be so many different faiths with at least one adherent—side-by-side was remarkable. It was rare to see such tight coexistence in the Pre-War world amongst groups that often had tense relations with each other, and that probably was still the case in the Post-War world to some extent. But at least in the small town of Niceville, these factions were able to come together harmoniously through the shared hardship of living after the nukes. Mariah thought it was a shame that such coexistence was exceedingly rare amongst diverging groups throughout the wastes.

Mariah noticed some of the names of the buildings upon closer inspection. On the Christian church was an inscription for the Abbey of the Road—which sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she could not be sure. Even if it was a familiar name, there was no way to know for sure if it was the same Abbey. None of the other religious building names rang any bells—except for one that had a trademark emblem of a sun shining down on several buildings. Beyond that, it didn’t have any distinguishing features like the other houses of worship.

It was another establishment for the Temple of New Life.

A young man who seemed to barely be 20 years old stood at the door for this particular Temple, looking a bit forlorn as if nobody had come to the Temple all day. He looked up to notice Mariah looking toward the building and his eyes lit up. “Hey! Over here!” He called out jovially, waving his right arm to be noticed. Partially out of a sense of pity for the young man being alone and partially because she was curious to hear more about the place, Mariah walked toward him. She didn’t have that brochure that Jonah gave her back in Pensacola anymore. Mariah couldn’t quite place why exactly this Temple intrigued her. It’s not like she was looking to join. Maybe it was just her curiosity about the unknown and mysterious.

“Hi there,” Mariah greeted him.

The young man blushed at being noticed by Mariah. While she had picked up a lot of dirt and sweat over the past couple of days, her natural beauty could still be seen. “Hey, um . . . nice to meet you. Sorry, I get nervous talking to pretty women—er, people in general. Heh. My name is, uh . . . Bryson. Yeah, that’s it.”

Mariah found the young man’s awkwardness sort of charming. “I’m Mariah. Nice to meet you. You’re part of the Temple of New Life, I presume?”

“I sure am!” Bryson said with childlike enthusiasm. “You’ve heard of us before?”

“Oh, only once. When I was in Pensacola, I met a man named Jonah. He called himself a . . . Speaker, was it?”

An audible gasp escaped Bryson’s mouth. “No way! You met the Emeritus himself?”

Mariah cocked her head to the side in puzzlement. “Emeritus? I thought he called himself a Speaker or something?”

“Oh, well, he is, heh. But he’s also just being humble. He is a Speaker, someone who basically just goes about preaching our faith to others. But he’s also the Emeritus, which is sort of like the head honcho of Speakers, I guess. He has more duties than that, though. But that’s amazing you got to meet Jonah!”

“You have quite the high opinion of Jonah. He did seem pretty nice, if a bit mysterious. Have you met him?”

“I sure have. I hope I can be just like him one day.” Bryson struck a heroic pose with his fists on his hips. “Man of conviction. Helping people. Being such a good speaker, too. He has a way with words the likes of which I’ve never seen—er, heard, I guess. Jonah’s the one that introduced me to the Temple, in fact. Said he saw something in me and asked if I wanted to help grow the Temple here in Niceville.”

“So, you’ve lived here for a while then?”

“Yep. Lived here my whole life. But it’s been . . . pretty hard,” Bryson said, his youthful exuberance toning down. “My dad died years ago and my mom has been addicted to chems ever since. Particularly Jet. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. Almost fell in with the raiders near town, but I . . . I didn’t want to hurt people. And they do chems all the time. I’ve seen what it has done to my mom. And I don’t want to leave her because I want to help her. She hasn’t been the same since my dad died. Then Jonah found me. He talked to me about my purpose in life and how I just hadn’t tapped into it yet. Said he could also help my mom. And she has seemed to have gotten better, even if she isn’t back to her old self yet. I don’t know what Jonah did, but it seems to have worked.” Bryson’s bright personality beamed again. “That’s when I knew I found my place here at the Temple. I’m still young and inexperienced, but I’m trying!” He pumped his arm in a can-do fashion.

Mariah couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his cheerfulness. “You’ve got quite an enthusiastic personality. That’s got to help a lot in the wasteland. Have you gotten many people into the Temple today?”

“No,” Bryson shrugged. “But that’s okay. It’s a process. That’s another thing Jonah taught me. Life’s all about processes. And a lot of people appear to already belong to one of the other places of worship here. And that’s okay too! We’re supposed to live in harmony with others. Were you . . . uh . . . hoping to join?” Bryson started blushing again.

“Oh, no, I’m just curious about this Temple, that’s all,” Mariah clarified, shaking her hands in front of her with the palms facing outward. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the Temple!” She quickly added when she saw Bryson’s expression turned sad. “Just like to . . . know all of what’s going on around here.”

“I understand,” Bryson said, regaining his smile. “It’s a big step. I was afraid at first, too. I was involved in one of the other places of worship here before, but with everything with my mom and dad, it just felt . . . I don’t know . . . pointless. But hey, sadness has brought people to those other faiths too, so I’m not trying to say anything bad about them. The Temple seemed to be the perfect fit for me, though. It’s great that all these faiths sit side-by-side with each other. The Temple preaches coexistence.”

Mariah raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Well, that can’t be all that the Temple is about.”

“Oh, of course not! But the coexistence thing is pretty important. And not just with other human beings. We also must respect nature and technology. But there is a common thread among all of them. Go on, take a guess at what that is!” Bryson started to play the part of a Pre-War game show host.

Mariah simply shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“They need a guide!” Bryson shouted enthusiastically. “Nature makes the world run, but it can be pretty hostile to people, especially with all the radiation and mutations. Technology is capable of great things, but it can easily be abused. And people have practically unlimited ingenuity and innovation, but they can easily become selfish and deliberately hurt people. So we teach that we need to see all the good that people and nature and technology can do but recognize their limitations. There needs to be a guide for it all to work harmoniously.”

“And I suppose that’s where your god comes in?”

“Well . . .” Bryson trailed off. “He’s not exactly a god in the way that Christians or Muslims or Jews or Hindus or whoever talk about. He’s a spiritual guide that is one of us. He’s just become enlightened and strives to make peace wherever he can. How we can ‘renew’ ourselves, be part of something greater.”

“And who is he?” Mariah asked, masking her skepticism. Not that she was persuadable in favor of Temple beliefs in the first place, but it was starting to sound a bit . . . goofy? Vague? Generic? She couldn’t really think of the word or words she was looking for.

“We call him The Redeemer. He has several other titles, too, like The High Guide, but we mostly call him The Redeemer. I haven’t met him yet because he lives way further down south in Florida. There is a city called Eden there. But that would basically be the Holy Grail of sorts, to meet The Redeemer. I hope I can one day.” Bryson stopped for a moment to daydream about that potential encounter. “But Jonah said the Temple needs me here to bring people into the fold. Which is fine. I’m still sort of scared to leave for a brand-new place. And I can still help my mom here.”

Despite her skepticism and how hokey it sounded to her, Mariah couldn’t help but be intrigued by this Redeemer and the city of Eden. It was interesting that the Temple chose to name the city ostensibly after the Garden of Eden from the Bible even though the Temple was a completely different faith. Then again, the concept of Eden was one that spanned throughout a lot of societies and outside of the Christian faith. It seemed this was a case of the latter. “I bet. I’ve travelled a lot, but the first few times I had to go somewhere new I was scared too. The unknown can be intimidating. Well, if you are sticking around here, have you had much success bringing people to the Temple?”

“Not a whole lot,” Bryson said, pursing his lips. “But there have been a few people and there were a few adherents that came here already, so it’s not like I’m totally alone, luckily. It’s a small town, though, so we also try to reach people outside of town. People like the Apalachee.”

“The Apalachee?” Mariah wasn’t sure if she had heard of them before.

“Yeah, a Native American tribe from way to the west. No one knows where exactly they came from or why they came here to the Panhandle but you hear all sorts of theories. The other religions in town have tried to reach out to them too, but . . . well . . .” Bryson trailed off.

Mariah leaned in waiting for an answer. “Well, what?”

A flash of trepidation was visible on Bryson’s face. “Raiders. Go figure, right? Well, there is one particular gang of raiders called the Bullsharks. Sounds a little bit wannabe edgy to me, but whatever. Anyway, they have made it tough to go preach outside town. The Temple and the other faiths have had people kidnapped by them, so the town council doesn’t let anybody in or out of Niceville without proper clearance.”

Mariah figured that those raiders she wasted just before coming into Niceville must have belonged to these Bullsharks. “They sound nasty. But what about the Apalachee? What more can you tell me about them?”

Bryson shrugged. “Not much more, unfortunately. They have been very reluctant to contact any civilized areas. No offense to them, I mean! The most anyone I know of that has interacted with them is through trade, and even that is rare. They aren’t hostile, just reclusive. They’ve probably had some issues with the Bullsharks too.”

Mariah once again pondered what he had to say. If the Apalachee came from further west, is there something they would know that could help against the Brotherhood or the Dissidents? Both of those organizations came from the west as well, so perhaps the Apalachee knew something about them. At this point, it didn’t seem like the GCU was going to get any new information on the F.A.C.T. on its own. Mariah wasn’t about to sit on her hands and wait for word from Darius. It may have been a longshot, but Mariah determined the next course of action was to find these Apalachee. “I really appreciate all the help, Bryson. But before I go, where are the Apalachee?”

“Well, no one knows exactly for sure. They seem to be pretty mobile and they only have a few of their people make themselves available for outside contact, so wherever they are living isn’t known. But last I heard, someone had done a little bit of trading with them to the southeast. Wait. You’re not going to look for them, are you?”

Mariah wasn’t sure how to answer his question, so she didn’t give him a straightforward response. “Why do you ask?”

“Those Bullsharks, remember? You can’t go by yourself! They’ll kidnap you or do something even worse to you! I don’t want anything to happen to you because of something I told you.” Bryson was pleading with her at this point. “PLEASE don’t go.”

Mariah found his concern very cute. “You’re a sweetheart, Bryson. But I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.” She showed him her laser rifle, 10MM, and sword. “I’ll be extra careful. For you.”

“You—you will?” Bryson’s cheeks turned their reddest yet. He seemed to have been prone to blushing and he was enamored with Mariah. “Er, of course! You can take care of yourself. I don’t want to be overbearing or anything. Just watch yourself out there, alright? And uh . . . thanks for talking to me. I know I probably talked a lot.” He scratched the back of his head. “It gets lonely out here sometimes.”

“Of course. It was nice talking to you, too.” Mariah gave him a big, bright smile and started walking away. “I hope your, uh, preaching goes well,” she said, turning around to him while walking backward briefly.

“Thanks.” Bryson sighed, sitting back down at the Temple’s doorstep.

////////////

Despite the town council ordinance on people coming in or out of the town, Mariah had no trouble leaving its limits. She crossed a bridge heading southeast across a body of water called the Rocky Bayou. There were some ruins in the distance. Most of the buildings were leveled or barely had any structure left standing, but some old businesses were still standing. Mariah didn’t notice any signs of life, save for some overgrown brush. But she knew better than to let her guard down. With a cocked laser rifle in her hands, along with her 10MM and Gabriel’s sword at the ready, she pressed on.

As she came closer to the ruins off the main road, Mariah’s mind went back to Bryson’s warning about the Bullsharks, which then went back to Commander Darius’s advice on rushing into danger. For a moment, she thought that maybe she was pressing her luck too much this time. Her determination, stubbornness, and burning hatred for raiders ultimately won out, but Mariah was starting to learn about assessing the dangers of certain situations better. She couldn’t help but think about Jacob and Valentina and how worried they were about Mariah’s well-being. Especially Valentina. Mariah vowed that she would find a way to make it up to her if she got to see her again. But she wasn’t going to turn back around.

What the hell am I even doing? Mariah thought. She was so focused on trying to make some sort of progress on her investigation that she didn’t really think about just how little information she had to go by. Bryson only knew that some traders contacted them to the southeast, but not how far in that direction. And now that she thought about it, would the Apalachee really use dilapidated ruins as their base? From how reclusive they sounded, they probably resided somewhere far off the metaphorical and literal beaten path. How would she find them? This was still new territory to Mariah. She had a lot of guesswork ahead of her and she didn’t exactly know where civilization ended and ruins—or nature—began.

[Fallout 3 Soundtrack: Forgotten]

In fact, this seemed more like somewhere that the Bullsharks would hole up . . .

Suddenly, Mariah heard gunshots ring out. She took cover behind a wall, peeking around the corner to look in the direction of the noises. She saw four people, two males and two females, dressed in raider garb. They must have been Bullsharks. Mongrel dogs were attacking them, but the raiders were able to put them down with ease. One of the male Bullsharks picked up some sort of bulky object that they had dropped but Mariah couldn’t make out what it was from where she was positioned. Almost spontaneously, the raiders started laughing amongst themselves and they stepped into a small warehouse. Constantly checking her surroundings to see if any other Bullsharks were coming, she crouched down and walked quietly to another entrance of the warehouse. When she got inside, she stayed hidden behind some crates while trying to get closer to see what they were doing.

“It’s a good day to be a Bullshark, ain’t that right, boy and girls?” One of the male raiders cockily asked in a rhetorical manner, placing the bulky object down on a table. “Those tribals didn’t even see what was coming.”

“I was just hoping we could take more of them. A handful wasn’t enough to sate Delilah’s bloodlust here,” one of the female raiders piped up and tapped her gun. Apparently, that was what she named Delilah.

“You know, you naming your gun normally would get a big ‘yikes’ from me,” the other male raider said. “But ah, what the hell? With this score, name your gun whatever you want.”

“I love killin’, but you know what I love more? Those fat stacks of caps coming our way,” the second female raider said with a cackle.

“Which reminds me: I been thinkin’,” the first male raider said, grabbing everyone’s attention but particularly the second female raider’s. “With the cash coming our way, I been thinking you and I could finally put this life behind us. Get a farmstead, start a family, raise some livestock. Just peace and quiet and put this all behind us.” After a moment of silence, all of the raiders started laughing again. “Who am I kidding? I can keep this up forever if it means more caps and more body counts! But tell you what, baby, I got something for you that’s better than caps coming your way tonight.” The male raider and the raider who was apparently his girlfriend were about to get a little frisky.

“Alright, save that for the bedroom,” the first female raider said, putting up her hand as if to stop them. “Let’s get this job officially done first. Then you two can go for your romp when you’re alone.” She turned to the other male raider. “And then you and I, Johnny…” she did an obscene gesture with her hands.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Johnny blurted out, but cleared his throat and regained composure. “But you’re right, doll. Let’s get this Facial-something-or-other to our employer.”

“Geez, Johnny, you can’t be THAT bad at reading. The word was ‘fabrication.’ I know the big-boy words are tough for you, but come on,” the other male raider said, playfully punching Johnny’s arm.

“Whatever, I’ll just buy reading lessons or somethin’ with our soon-to-be payout. Reading done nothing for me anyhow. The hell does this thing do?” Johnny asked.

“Don’t ask me. All I know is we’re getting paid to get it. I don’t care if this thing will nuke half of Florida. I see and hear caps, you get my attention. These words on the side mean absolutely nothing to me.” The unnamed male raider turned the object around to display its name.

Fabrication Accelerator for Combat Technology. The F.A.C.T.

How in the world did the F.A.C.T. get here? How did the raiders manage to get a hold of it? And who did the raiders get it from? And better yet, who was paying them to get it? Conspiring with raiders wasn’t the Dissidents’ or the Brotherhood’s M.O. given how xenophobic they both are.

Mariah felt like one of those protagonists in a story that took a convenient, arguably contrived turn, given how she happened across the F.A.C.T. When Mariah read the technology’s name, she let out an audible gasp. Upon realizing she did so, she covered her mouth and tried to stay completely out-of-sight.

But it was too late. The female raider with her gun Delilah was alerted by Mariah’s sound. “What the f--- was that?”

“S---, thought I was the only one who heard it. Sounds like we got company,” the unnamed male raider said, readying his assault rifle. He then yelled in Mariah’s direction. “Hey! We know you’re there! Quit playing games and come out! If you come out now, I may even be feeling a little generous and I’ll let you go if you pay up with all your caps and loot.”

As gently as she could, Mariah stayed crouched and tried to move farther away while staying in stealth. No way was she going to trust anything a raider said. She hoped she get the drop on them while they still focused on her original hiding spot.

[Fallout 3 Soundtrack: Never Surrender]

“Can’t hide forever. Come out and play!” Johnny’s girlfriend taunted, tossing a smoke grenade at Mariah’s previous position. As soon as it went off, Mariah popped out from her new cover and fired her laser rifle in their direction. She could only get a couple shots off in their direction but they missed—the raiders reacted quickly and took cover of their own.

“Can’t wait to count out your caps!” Johnny shouted, reloading his hunting rifle. “You’ll be so much easier to rob when you’re dead!” The raiders and Mariah traded some more shots, but nobody was going down. And Mariah was running low on ammo for her laser rifle. Even though she still had her 10MM, she wanted to save it if she could. No telling whether she’d need it to get out of there. There could have been other raiders nearby, for all she knew.

With no end in sight, Mariah tried to formulate another plan. As she surveyed her surroundings while still trying to be concealed, she noticed that there was a flammable canister right near the cover of one of the female Bullsharks. As that raider reloaded her weapon, Mariah quickly blew up the canister with a laser rifle shot. The impact sent the raider sailing out of her hiding spot, seriously wounding her. And with that window of opportunity, Mariah shot that raider dead.

The sight of his girlfriend being snuffed out enraged the raider named Johnny. “You wasted my girl! No! You’re gonna f---ing pay for that!” The raider tried to rush Mariah’s position in a blind frenzy.

“Johnny, no! Stay covered!” The other male raider pleaded. But it was too late for him. Mariah quickly popped above cover and shot him in the head while he tried to pepper her barrier’s sides with bullets.

In addition to bullets, the living female raider hurled every profanity and slur in the book toward Mariah’s direction. She finally capped it off with, “Your head’s gonna look real good as a mantelpiece, little girl. You ain’t the first I’ve killed, and you won’t be the last.”

Mariah needed to think of a new tactic fast. Her cover was getting broken apart by the sheer number of bullets pelting it. She looked around in her vicinity for something, anything, to give her an edge. A red, wooden crate that looked unlike the others around her was just a few feet out of her reach, out in the open where the raiders could shoot her if she tried to grab it. Mariah found a long piece of broken wood and was able to position it so that she could get the crate. Sure enough, her hunch was right: Inside the box was a grenade. She had seen similar crates elsewhere in her travels that also had ammo, explosives, and even firearms. It seemed that such containers had a knack for being in a convenient spot.

Mariah didn’t have that good of an aim with explosives, but she had no choice. She tossed the grenade underhanded toward the living female raider to better aim it and, hopefully, not make it obvious like an overhanded throw until it was too late. Perhaps Luck was on Mariah’s side, because it was perfect placement of the explosive and the raiders had not popped out of cover to see it. When the raider saw the grenade, there was no time for her to react. The explosion riddled her with shrapnel, forcefully sending back her corpse toward her boyfriend raider. “Mary!” The raider yelled. He was distraught and crying, touching her as if there was some desperate attempt he could make at reviving her. Now it was his turn to level insults, expletives, and incredibly offensive terms at Mariah. “When I’m done with you, your body will be unrecognizable!” It was amazing how murderous scumbags like raiders had the gall to be offended when somebody gave them a taste of their own medicine.

Grabbing his dead girlfriend’s submachine gun, he incessantly fired at Mariah’s position. He broke down enough of Mariah’s cover so that a bullet got through and caught her right arm. With a yelp, Mariah involuntarily tossed the gun and grabbed her arm where she had been shot. The searing pain, while not a mortal wound, was more intense than perhaps any other physical pains she had experienced before.

“Ha! Got you now, b----!” The living raider shouted, much more so out of anger than out of triumph. His girlfriend and his other two buddies were laying on the ground lifeless, making his seeming victory hollow. Even raiders could have feelings. “Never should have come here. And I’ll make sure you regret it for the last few moments of your life.” He started walking over towards Mariah with his hunting rifle, ready to fire at her should she try something sneaky. “Could’ve just walked way, but nooooo, you just had to play hero. Well, hero, your story ends here,” he said with sarcastic emphasis.

But just as the raider was almost in position to get a clean shot at Mariah, they both heard a loud, guttural noise coming from behind him. The raider and Mariah could see the fear on each other’s faces as they slowly turned in the direction of the noise. It was the unmistakable sound of a Radfrog—and a very hungry one at that. Ribbit, bellowed the frog. It may have sounded funny if Radfrog noises were being recited in a story, but when it came to being face-to-face with the monster, it was anything but that.

The raider fumbled with his rifle as the Radfrog moved towards him. The shaking of his hands caused him to miss the creature. It lashed its long tongue out at him before he could get another shot off, flooring him and knocking his gun to the ground. He desperately reached for his submachine gun but the Radfrog came charging at him, violently discharging liquid poison from its skin. The raider’s bloodcurdling screams were cut short as the monster bit into him.

Mariah was frozen in fear as the monster feasted on the raider. He may have gotten what was coming to him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pity—more so terror—at the way he went out. The pain from her arm subsided enough that she could reach for her laser rifle, though the panic also helped overpower the hurt. She stood up to steady her aim and unloaded an entire clip into the Radfrog, wincing in pain with every shot. Mariah seriously regretted not buying some Stimpaks before leaving Niceville.

The Radfrog, however, resisted the energy damage. While it was hurt, it wasn’t down for the count. At that moment, Mariah remembered hearing previously about how certain creatures could more easily shrug off certain types of damage. She specifically recalled hearing how Radfrogs were more susceptible to regular ballistics but more resilient against energy weapons. Sure would’ve been nice if she remembered that before, she thought. As she tried to reach for her 10MM, the Radfrog turned its attention to Mariah and flicked its tongue out at her. The wind was knocked out of her as she flew backward and hit the cold, hard floor. Her gun landed away from her, out of reach.

The Radfrog started barreling toward Mariah, hoping to make a meal out of her just like it did with the raider. Despite her panicking, fumbling hands, she was able to unsheathe her sword. As it stood just above her ready to chow down, Mariah thrusted the blade through its mouth and into its brain. The creature cried out in agony, and she pulled out the blade again to cut its throat. She rolled out from under the creature before it collapsed on top of her. Her mind flashed back to the battle in Holt where a Radfrog tried to kill her as well, but the fear she felt this time eclipsed her previous encounter.

Panting, Mariah gingerly and slowly picked herself up off the floor. She retrieved her guns and shuffled over to the F.A.C.T., clutching her stomach. The technology stayed right where the raiders put it. “Is this . . . just some box?” Mariah muttered out of a mixture of exhaustion and confusion. Examining the box some more revealed latches to open the contraption up, but Mariah figured it was better to leave those alone. “Just got to . . . pick this up . . .” The tech was very lightweight despite its bulk. She paused and started coughing up a bit of blood as she was trying to exit the warehouse. At first, she figured it was just due to her injuries, but a closer look at the blood show a bit of green liquid. “Oh no . . . Radfrogs . . . their tongues are poisoned.” A chill went up her spine as she recounted more of her Radfrog biology lessons. Desperately, she stumbled around at the boxes around her in the hopes of finding some antidote or any other healing agent, but there was nothing there. The monster must have gotten in a really good shot, because the poison was acting quickly. Gently letting go of the F.A.C.T., she slowly slumped to the floor.

Is this really the end? Mariah wondered. This was supposed to be the part where big moments in your life replayed in your mind, before you drew your last breath—or so she heard. She thought about some of her travels prior to Florida. About her settlement being attacked and her family and friends being slaughtered when she was young. About Bertrand, Valentina, and Jacob. About Darius. About Bryson. She was resigned to the belief that she would never see them again. Darius was right: She needed to be better about assessing danger. But it looked to her that this miscalculation was fatal. “I’m sorry . . . everyone . . .”

After several more minutes of labored breathing, Mariah’s eyes were fluttering as she frantically tried to keep them open. It was no use. She thought she heard footsteps but she could not tell if they were real. Her head hung down as she drifted into unconsciousness—and possibly toward her death.

This post has been edited by RaderOfTheLostArk: Oct 7 2020, 02:17 PM