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>>1866494

> Molten Spike (aka Burning Finger)

“Ah, I see! Well, normally, I’d recommend gas welding as opposed to induction, but… I’m not sure we should consider this ‘welding’ anymore, should we? Just try not to burn your arm to slag, will you?”

> Themite Grenades

“That goes double for these. Don’t go juggling them or playing with the pins unless you also want practice dancing on hot coals!”

> Mirelurk Eyebot Casing

“I honestly can’t say I approve of these changes to the RobCo approved model, but the customer -is- always right, I suppose. One Franken-bot coming up!”

> Fred’s Combat Armor

“One of the most dangerous creature’s in the wasteland, and you want me to WHAT?! Of course, I’ll bloody well do it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

> DAVID Combat armor

“Careful the raiders don’t mistake you for a child soldier. Don’t want to give them any ideas, do we?”

> Jetpack

“Well, I certainly hope she doesn’t have a fear of heights… or spontaneous combustion. Might want to keep that extinguisher handy, just in case.”

> Shields

“Re-enforced bulletproof glass with a chrome dip for Sandra, and a medieval throwback for the lady.

“Now was there anything else you needed at this point? Your companions are asleep and my optics are getting fussy.”

> Was there anything else you needed?
> Write-in

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>>1866498

For new players, welcome to Fallout: Last Spark, a post-apocalyptic game where-in you take up the role of an artificial intelligence originally designed to protect and serve the citizens of Seattle in event of catastrophes both natural and man-made. Woken after a two century nap, you are now back on the path to reclaim your city and tame the post-apocalypse.

For those who want to follow me on twitter for quest announcements and the like:
https://twitter.com/bananon_QM

Though the first archive is misplaced, all subsequent threads will be saved here:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=last+spark

>>1866498
>> Was there anything else you needed?
I think this is good for now

>>1866498
Better make some ready-made repair kits for your gear. Praise the almighty duct tape!

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>>1866530
>>1866511
>>1866498

You make sure to grab a couple of rolls of duct tape out of the storage shed along with a small crowbar and a screwdriver, tucking it all in your backpack next to the grappling hook, rope, lockpicks, and oil already stored there. It’s actually kind of funny, reminding you of the adventurers in the virtual roleplays that used to float through your server back when you were just a pet project around the ZAX office.

Of course, this was a slightly more serious matter, but you don’t let that sour your mood as you check on the other bags that would be slung on Shadow and Fred, respectively. Many of those will remain empty for now. Others are filled with medicine and supplies, and if you’re lucky, you won’t have to empty the latter to fill the former when all is said and done.

“I think that will do for now,” you finally confirm as Jeremy hovers over your shoulder. “We have better protection, weapons, and a way to carry supplies, now.”

“I see,” he responds, his optics swiveling open and closed in that particular way particular to his model. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me, mum, but we’ve been out of donuts for the past two hundred years, coffee for one hundred and seventy. I do imagine people still enjoy a bite of breakfast in this day and age, but I fear I can offer little more than the use of our foyer for the night.”

“It’s more than enough, Jeremy,” you assure him. “I’m sure the two of them are just happy to have a warm place to sleep.”

You think for a moment.

> Was there anything else you wanted to ask Jeremy about?
> [] Do you know of any place where I could get food?
> [] What are your plans for the future?
> [] Ask more about the history of this place.
> [] Ask more about his customers.
> [] Other

>>1866605
>> [] What are your plans for the future?

>>1866605
>> [] What are your plans for the future?
>> [] Ask more about the history of this place.

>>1866605
"What's your take on the brotherhood? They seem to be the closest thing to legitimate authority in the area at present. Any ideas regarding power generation? "

>>1866605
>> [] What are your plans for the future?

>>1866627
Supporting

>>1866605
No one else has done it, but no one else is a machine: would it be possible to salvage the power cores from cars we bring back here to jury rig a way to power the robots here?

>>1866605
Backing these dudes
>>1866627
>>1866641

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>>1866766
>>1866659
>>1866641
>>1866627
>>1866623
>>1866618
>>1866605

“So, Jeremy,” you ask, as the Mr. Handy begins floating away.

“Yes, mum?”

“You’ve been here since before the war, correct?”

“That would be correct,” he confirms. “I’ve been serving at this facility for over two-hundred and ten years at this point, and I dare say, I have another hundred in me yet before my processor finally gives its last.”

“And how long has it been just you?” you ask. “When was the last time there were human employees here?”

“It’s never been just me, dear,” he assures you. “Why, even now, I’ve Matilda and The General to keep me company.”

“The General?” you ask, and as if on a dime, Jeremy turns into a side office filled with TV monitors, flipping a couple of switches until he comes around to one with what appears to be a puck with a shock probe chasing a mouse.

“STOP RIGHT THERE, YE COMMIE BASTARD!”

*ZZZZT-ZZZZT*

“IT’LL ONLY HURT FOR THE REST OF YER LIFE!”

“He… Well, I think we may have given him the wrong circuit board at some point or another. He does a good job of keeping the place clean, at least. Meanwhile, Matilda tends to anyone who arrives in poor enough condition to require her services.”

“And that leaves you with…?”

“Customer service, robotic maintenance, structural maintenance, plumbing maintenance, electrical maintenance, security, registry, inventory, data entry, management, delivery, fabrication, and new product testing.”

“That’s… how?”

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>>1866791

“Ah. You see, mum, as the capabilities of robots continued to rise toward the end of the 23rd century, it was RobCo’s determination that employee absences should not lead to failures in customer service. As such, a select few RobCo facilities were equipped with the ESTER system, the Emergency Short-Term Employee Replacement protocol.

“Due to the way that this system is structured, in the event of an employee absence, the roster of available eligible employees that can fit that opening is examined, and in the case that no employee fits the qualifications for that role, a robotic unit with the least active schedule in a non-primary role is required to report for programming that will allow them to pick up the slack. It just so happens in this case that both the on-site medical unit and the head sanitation officer are considered protected roles.”

“That means you’ve literally been stuck with everything else…”

“Indeed,” he confirms, finishing his trip at the main check-in terminal and settling himself back into the hookups, “and should anything happen to The General or Matilda, I’ll have their roles crammed inside of my head as well. It wasn’t always just the three of us, either, you know.”

“Were there other robots? Were there people?”

“Hah! A funny story to that actually! It seems the apocalypse has a way of playing on people’s… What should I call it? Their moral centers. No sooner had the first bomb dropped than all of them were panicking, heading for the hills… and some of them ended up grabbing everything that wasn’t nailed down on their way out.”

“And what did you do?”

“Me?” he asks, somewhat surprised. “I was merely a greeter, mum. It wasn’t my responsibility to do anything. That all fell to security, who as I understand the logs warned them of the imminent termination of their contracts due to theft, and when that did not dissuade them… opened fire.

“Some of them no doubt managed to escape, including whatever chap stole all of the spare power cells we had to hand. All I really remember when all was said and done is that there were numerous vacancies, and very few of us remaining.

“We did the best we could from there, easier than you might think when the city had fallen into a radiation-induced silence. There were ghouls, of course, raiders too, but the biggest killer of all was time. A cave-in here, a hoard of mutants there, it was nothing a little elbow grease and a few rounds of laser fire couldn’t attend to, but when the incidents climbed into the thousands… Well, accidents happened, friends were lost, but our mission… the company’s mission never changed.”

> Well, that’s only slightly fucked up…
> [] Extend sympathies. Continue with questions.
> [] Offer him a way out, somehow.
> [] Other

>>1866794
> [] Extend sympathies.
> [] ENGAGE HUG PROTOCOLS. INITIATED. THERE-THERE, SWEETIE. SARA'S HERE.
> [] Offer him a way out, somehow.

>>1866794
> [] Extend sympathies. Continue with questions.
You can build new friends.

>>1866794
>> [] Offer him a way out, somehow.
Were there any contingencies for the government takeover of a robco facility in dire straits?

>>1866806
This. Perhaps offer either to take over for him or to see about engaging additional AI units to take on functions. Could we for ourselves for such a task?

>>1866794
> [] Extend sympathies. Continue with questions.
> [] Offer him a way out, somehow.
Perhaps a location transfer is in order? Would certainly have a few vacation years built up.

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>>1866880
>>1866878
>>1866817
>>1866806
>>1866794

“I’m sorry to hear all of this, Jeremy,” you apologize. You’d offer a hug as well were he not a couple of feet off the floor. “It seems really unethical for RobCo to stick you here indefinitely with no way out. You know, I might be able to-”

“Unethical?” he questions. “I’m sorry, mum, but I’m just a machine. To serve is my purpose until such time as I am no longer needed.”

“That’s bullshit!” you object. “You care about the people you lost! You have emotions!”

“I do miss them,” he admits, “and on a certain level, I am programmed to feel emotions as humans do. However, in proposing that I am ‘stuck here’, I feel the need to ask: would life anywhere else really be that much better? Here we have safety and a purpose, but out there?

“Well, out there, you’ve probably seen them. If you haven’t, you will soon, and maybe then you will understand. Without a purpose, without instructions, we just… We go mad, like wild animals but with built-in lasers, and sometimes I have to wonder if humans aren’t the same. I mean, just look at everything that’s happened!”

He sighs, seeming to slump in his charging bay.

“Apologies,” he murmurs, “but I fear that freedom is too great a burden for one such as I. I’m not an artificial intelligence, not even a human. I just want to serve until the rust takes me, to keep this place that we’ve sacrificed everything to protect safe for just a little while longer, even if in the end, it will make no difference to anyone.”

He feels like if he leaves this place, everything they’ve worked for will disappear. You can almost feel the anxiety radiating off the old machine, see the exhaustion engraved in every chip and ding dotting his rusting surface. One way or the other, you know this can’t continue, but the question is how to break the deadlock.

> What to do…
> [] You have the authority to override administration of the facility and replace a significant number of the tasks with your own OS.
> [] You can always offer to help him recover the cores he needs to activate other units so that he can reassign tasks.
> [] Try to convince Jeremy to come with you?
> [] Other

>>1866958
>> [] You can always offer to help him recover the cores he needs to activate other units so that he can reassign tasks.
He's right, you know. And if you've got a place like this set up already, why start over when you can just expand from here?

>>1866958
>> [] You have the authority to override administration of the facility and replace a significant number of the tasks with your own OS.
>> [] Try to convince Jeremy to come with you

>>1866958
>[] You can always offer to help him recover the cores he needs to activate other units so that he can reassign tasks.
He's right, and we can't afford to dedicate processing cycles to anything else, not if we're going to be breaking into the DHS computer network.

>>1866958
>> [] You can always offer to help him recover the cores he needs to activate other units so that he can reassign tasks.
As long as we receive authority over the facility

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>>1867085
>>1866999
>>1866990
>>1866987
>>1866958

“If I weren’t about to go toe-to-toe with a government computer, I’d offer some processing power to help run the facility,” you tell him, “but for right now, the best I can do is promise to send power cells your way if I find them.”

“I’d thank you for that. The good Lord knows I feel like butter scraped over too much bread as things stand, and I’ve hardly the force to deter a full-scale assault.”

“How you’ve held out this long is nothing short of a miracle.”

“And don’t think I don’t know it! It’s taken some careful posturing and PR management to convince people they’d do better leaving us well enough alone than trying to take what they need by force. Fortunately, the Brotherhood and the Valkyries have been keeping each other busy for some time now, else, you’d likely have found the place under new management some time ago.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what are your thoughts on the Brotherhood?” you query. “A lot of people around here seem to trust them reasonably well, but second opinions never hurt. Do you think they’d attack you if they could?”

“Well,” he begins. “It’s a bit of a touch-and-go matter, so far as I’m concerned. When push comes to shove, it only makes sense that what you consider as a person becomes restricted. Those are the rules of war, after all, and for chaps that claim they’re part of the old military, they’ve certainly got that mentality about them.

“The only trouble is they seem to lack the proper authority to go with it. Had a group of three or four lads come knocking on my door a couple of years back asking all manner of questions, touting up their authority, and claiming they’d come for a shipment as well as to enact emergency war-time override of the facility.

“Incidentally, they did have the right locker code, but they lacked any form of military ID to go with it. Between that and the shady behavior, I wasn’t about to just let them in.”

“Shady behavior?”

“Like burglars trying to size up a home for a heist,” he explains. “They had that look about them, and I come to find out some weeks later that they’d been asking a host of questions around the Metro concerning our defenses and the layout of our office. I think I did the right thing in turning them away.”

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>>1867127

“No kidding.”

“Fortunately, Matthias Grey seemed to have outlined for them in rather explicit terms that if they ever came around town again asking about us, he’d… Well, there’s no proper consensus as to what was said, possibly logistically impossible threats involving his boot and their rectal cavities, but I think that was the end of the matter. Few people wanted to get on the wrong side of that one.”

“Is he the mayor or something?”

“No, just a ranger and a concerned citizen, but being as he’d been around since before the war, his word carried a lot of weight, as did his reputation.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Dead now, I’m afraid. Seems even ghouls can’t live forever, and while I won’t miss helping the old sod repair his bike after every new fiasco, I’ll miss the man himself like the dickens. They just don’t make them like they used to.”

> Huh…
> [] Ask about the logistics of recycling car batteries
> [] Let the old timer get his rest
> [] Other

>>1867130
>> [] Ask about the logistics of recycling car batteries
If you can do it for a motorcycle, you can do it for some mid-sized machinery, hopefully somewhere it won't get shot too often, or bumped, or brushed with a feather.

>>1867130
>[] Ask about the logistics of recycling car batteries
Those are nuclear power cells just waiting for a deft mechanical touch to remove them.

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>>1867130
>>1867145
>>1867147

“He will be missed. Speaking of vehicles, though, what would your thoughts be on recycling nuclear batteries from local vehicles to power your derelict robots?”

“You mean the batteries in the ones you can find just lying around town?”

“Yeah, those ones.”

“The ones that explode under the pressure of harsh language with enough force to collapse a building?”

“Err… Maybe…”

Okay, maybe you didn’t think that one through all the way.

“On the plus side, I’ve heard that their explosive nature can be a virtue all its own,” Jeremy notes. “Not that I’d advocate further damaging the city, but if you desperately need something very large disposed of, your ability to find a very large truck are much higher than finding a missile launcher and a dozen or more rockets.”

“Or a mini-nuke.”

“Refitting those military batteries you had knocking around might be safer, but I think you had decided against it last we spoke. Even if it’s only once, there’s the chance they’ll explode with considerable force.”

> Hmm…
> [] Ask more questions (About what?)
> [] Let the old timer sleep
> [] Other

>>1867217
> [] Ask more questions: About the Museum of Living Computers, if he knows if it's been picked over? If we recover an Assaultron or Securitron chassis, would he be able to refit an Eyebot's controls into it and get it working?


I dare say that the reason most nuclear batteries aren't salvaged is because humans have been trying it and not robots, and the meatbags aren't precise enough.

>>1867217
> [] Let the old timer sleep
You should probably enter power saving mode yourself. We're no closer to unearthing our base or finding another SARA substation, hmm.
>>1867243
Neither are the robots after 2 centuries of wear and tear.

>>1867217
> [X] Let the old timer sleep

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>>1867291
>>1867253
>>1867243

It's actually getting a little late. We'll pick up a little earlier tomorrow folks. Until then, take care.

>>1867383

mfw fred is getting more love then the MC

>>1867402
Art exists for Deathclaws, for DAVID units not so much.
bullying the david unit with our new Assaultron chassis when

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>>1867402

As this anon (>>1867408) says, there isn't really any art for a DAVID class unit, while there is a lot for Deathclaws doing cute things.

>>1867408

Do not bully your own self! You may end up needing it, depending on what you want to do!

important thng, we should probably train fred, at least to do very basic things like 'follow' 'stay' 'and come to me'

bananon can you post a link in the old thread when you start a new one? Just sage so it doesn't bump.

>>1867475
She may be pretty bright in comparison to a dog, so it may be necessary to accelerate her training. Having a domesticated deathclaw population could go a long way to allowing us to keep the peace.

>>1867755
If that's the case, then we need to understand their calls, and use them to communicate with them.

Maybe if we could find a research AI, like a ZAX computer.

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>>1867729

Usually twitter is the best way to keep an eye out for new quest threads. I do offer apologies for not posting there as well, of course.

>>1867475
>>1867755
>>1867761

As of now, Fred seems to behave a lot like an overgrown canine. You aren't certain if this would be normal for death claws, but apparently either her intelligence or the work of her previous owner at least has made her somewhat malleable.

She definitely knows to come when someone calls her name and about 50% of the time, she understands when you tell her to stay somewhere. Chances are that if you supplemented her instruction with the sound clips and research notes from the deathclaw researcher, you might be able to more quickly train her, at the cost of leaving Sandra less equally prepared to deal with her in your absence.

>>1867761
We may have to do original research on this. It may be fruitful to put a microphone on Fred's collar so we might be able to at least start correlating stimuli with vocalizations.

>>1867857
Couldn't we load Sandra's Pipboy with the Deathclaw sound library with notes on what sounds to play with which instructions?

>>1867857
Ok, perhaps Sandra could help us with obedience training. It might get Fred to listen to her as well.

>>1867857
Supplement her instruction with the deathclaw notes. Try repeating your commands in English as well.

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>>1867876
>>1867870
>>1867869

All of these are good ideas, and fairly feasible. Unless you want to take a dedicated update to training your Fred, should I assume that you'll be doing this over time?

>>1867885
Over time. I'm more eager to start searching for a new body.

>>1867885
Sounds good. Let's see if Fred will fuss over a microphone so we can start.

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>>1867217
>>1867243
>>1867253
>>1867291
>>1867870
>>1867869
>>1867761
>>1867729

“Jeremy, just one more question, and then I’ll let you drift off,” you promise. “Can you tell me much about the Museum of Living Computers? Has it been heavily picked over?”

“Hmm? You mean the one north of old Georgetown?”

“Yes, that one, down past the industrial district.”

“Well, and mind you that I don’t get around town very often nowadays, it seems a name like that would attract all sorts of the wrong attention. Of course, I should also say that I’ve yet to see anyone come my way with a pile of scrap bearing their insignia.”

“So, there’s a chance?”

“There’s always a chance, dear, always a chance. What’s more, somehow, I don’t think that people nowadays are even as interested in history as they used to be. All said, there probably isn’t any harm in looking. Just be careful, will you?”

“Will do,” you promise, and with that, you leave the machine to get some shutdown time in.

You can’t imagine how much processor strain holding that many active roles in the facility must take on him, but if fortune favors you, maybe he won’t have to keep this up for much longer. Right now, the bigger issue is getting everything set for tomorrow and deciding where you want to go.

> For tomorrow
> [] Hunt along the way. Eat what you kill.
> [] Go back to the clinic. Stock up on drugs and dogfood.

> For your first objective
> [] Head to the Museum. Hope there’s something left.
> [] Head to the DHS. Hope you aren’t murdered by killer robots.

>>1867901
>> [x] Go back to the clinic. Stock up on drugs and dogfood.
> [x] Head to the Museum. Hope there’s something left.

>>1867901
> [] Hunt along the way. Eat what you kill.

> [] Head to the Museum. Hope there’s something left.
Shipment reports showed that decommissioned military robots were sent there. Even if we can't get them online, that's military-grade armor that we can use on ourselves and Sandra.

>>1867901
>> [] Hunt along the way. Eat what you kill.
>> [] Head to the Museum. Hope there’s something left.

>>1867906

sreconding. but also work on training a fred abit, maybe teach him to fetch?

>>1867901
>>1867906
Oh, dammit, switch me to
> [x] Go back to the clinic. Stock up on drugs and dogfood

I forgot that anything we hunt is going to be irradiated.

>>1867972
Cooking it reduces the rads. Deathclaws can ignore it, Sandra's used to it, we don't eat it. Anything sitting in the clinic for 200 years is also irradiated.

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>>1867984
>>1867972
>>1867954
>>1867916
>>1867906
>>1867904
>>1867901

Having more medicine hardly seems like a bad idea, neither does stopping by the museum on the off chance something was spared. It’ll take you on a zigzagging route to your final location, but better to go slow and sure, you suppose. Fortunately, Sandra does a decent job waking herself up today, the scavenger yawning heavily as she steps out of the lounge with Shadow on her heels. Fred, on the other hand, had pretty much just stuck to you like glue, sleeping wherever you decided to stop for more than five seconds. Either way, it doesn’t take long to get your well-rested crew ready for the road.

“Where we heading today, Chief?” the woman asks as she slips on her newly fitted armor, Fred sticking her head down a hole intended for her foot as you try to wrestle the excitable lizard into her new outfit.

“We’re heading back to the clinic,” you explain. “We’ll hunt along the way and try to grab something for you to eat, and then we’ll make our way over to the Museum of Living Computers. If we’re lucky, there’s still something left there.”

“Huh? Seemed like a two-story dump, last time I was there, nothing but collapsed walkways and shattered display cases.”

“And what about the basement?” you ask.

“That place had a basement?”

“That answers my question. If no one else has found it either, we might be in for a nice payoff.”

“Here’s hoping,” she shrugs, “but if we don’t want to cut more time out of our schedule than we have to doubling back, we could always drop by Wilma’s Diner on the way.”

“Wilma’s Diner?”

“It’s a mom and pop restaurant right off the Harbor Island bridge. The food’s decent, and it’s far enough south to avoid the Valks. It’ll swing us near the metro, but that ain’t gonna be bad for your long term plan’s, is it?”

“Maybe not…”

> What to do…
> [] Stop by the diner. Get some info and food.
> [] Go to the clinic. Even if you have to double back, medicine is valuable.
> [] Other

>>1868227
>[] Stop by the diner. Get some info and food.

>>1868227
> [] Stop by the diner. Get some info and food.

we still have that bag full of meds anyway.

>>1868227
>> [] Go to the clinic. Even if you have to double back, medicine is valuable.
That's true, and it's something you can barter away your share of.

>>1868227
> [] Stop by the diner. Get some info and food

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>>1868249
>>1868244
>>1868235
>>1868227
>>1868294


Apologies for the slow updates, folks. I've had some serious problems with my eye combined with other problems with insomnia. And now, I'm very annoyed by a very stupid thing that's happened regarding my next potential employer.

I'll be back in a couple of hours after this has blown over and I've got my sanity back.

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>>1868294
>>1868249
>>1868244
>>1868235
>>1868227

“The diner it is then,” you announce. “It couldn’t hurt to get a little information from the locals or food we don’t have to butcher on the spot.”

“Take care of yourselves, now!” Jeremy calls after you as you make your way out the front door. “There’s nothing out there worth getting killed over!”

Strong encouragement, but he isn’t wrong. You just let the commentary roll off your back as you ready the newly renovated sleigh and once again attach Fred to the leads. It’s a much easier job now that she has proper harness rings to be sure, and with a little encouragement, she’s once more gliding off into the snow.

It’s the morning now and bitterly cold. Fortunately, that seems to be enough to keep the yao guai from yesterday from resurfacing as you skirt the edge of its territory on your way to the Spokane Viaduct. Honestly, you’re a little surprised that it can live so close to Valkyrie territory without being butchered, but maybe allowing the mongrel to live close by could be a sort of defense strategy on their part.

Either way, traversing the viaduct proves easier than you might have suspected, the old roadway swept more or less clean and its crumbling infrastructure packed with boards. As Sandra explains it to you, most of this new patchwork was the result of the trade boom fifty years ago, and very little had been touched up since to keep travelers from plummeting down to the streets below after the fact.

Here and there you’ll spy evidence of those incidents, places where a brahmin was too heavy or a traveler too careless. Fortunately, you manage not to go the way of those unfortunate souls as you come within sight of the waters of the Duwamish up ahead, complete with an actually halfway decent view of the surrounding landscape.

To the north is Harbor Island, its shores lined with rather large battlements you’re positive weren’t there before, and to the south are farms, or flattened land at least, a mire of brown and occasional green raising up from the earth alongside ramshackle tin structures past the wake of building crushed against the western bank. A little closer to your side and to the south, you can see the evidence of yet more battlements dotting the scene, less tin, and more wood, a place that Sandra confirms as the Metro’s above-ground fortifications before she wheels around to the restaurant that just popped up on the horizon.

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>>1869623


“Joe’s Country Kitchen Café,” that’s what the sign said back in the day.

It still does as a matter of fact, if you squint hard against the blown out fluorescent lights and the rust. A part of you is glad no one could muster the courage to graffiti a new sign over the old place in your absence as you hit the off-ramp. There’s just something soothing about seeing some semblance of the old world that hadn’t completely become unrecognizable, the vibrant paints applied by the previous tenants still proudly proclaiming its heritage as part of America’s longest running diner chain.

Of course, even from here, you can spy the interior, and pointedly note that the place is no longer staffed by the colorful, dolled-up gals of your pre-war era. It also appears that they’ve broken down part of the wall to the kitchen area and have a giant rat spit-roasting over a fire rotisserie.

What’s more concerning, however, are the dogs out front. Hairless mongrels barely looking the part of a sled dog, the team sees your approach and starts barking, startling the owner who until a moment prior had been snoozing in the saddle. He hushes them as best he can, at first, playing the part of the responsible owner. However, as he trades glances between them and you, his jaw drops and his hand goes up, both quivering nervously as he gazes straight at you.

You wonder, what his problem could be? And then you remember. You are riding a deathclaw.

> Err…
> [] Salutations! (Write-in)
> [] Other

>>1869628
Just here for some food and news. Don't mind the deathclaw she's trained and its awfully dangerous out there of late. You gotta admit though not much is willing to tackle a deathclaw. Much less an armored one..."

Here's to hoping they have enough food on hand to feed Fred.

>>1869673

this

>>1869628
"Hello, there! What, never seen a tamed Deathclaw before? Being ridden by a robot?"

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>>1869728
>>1869673
>>1869628
>>1869832

“Just here for some food and news!” you call reassuringly. “Don’t mind her. She’s trained.”

“Sort of,” you hear Sandra murmur behind you.

“Ah, say what you want,” the man says with a vaguely Canadian accent, extending both palms. “You wouldn’t be the first person I’d seen tryin’ to train one of them there, scaly bastards. Probably won’t be the last, either. Still, first time I’ve seen one pullin’ a sled, and… Sorry, ma’am, but are you a robot?”

“Mike!” you hear Sandra yell from behind you. “Get those dogs to shut the hell up or Wilma’s gonna skin ya.”

“Gonna skin all of ya little-“ threatens a gray haired woman as she comes out in the snow. She seems to be thrown off-kilter when she notices Fred, that mysticism somewhat diminishing as she begins scratching behind one horn with her hind foot. “Right… Anyway, as I was sayin’, I oughta skin all of ya for making a scene outside the diner.”

“With all due respect ma’am, it’s a death claw, and the dogs don’t know no better.”

“Just quiet ‘em down, Mike,” the woman begs, “and I’d prefer ya not yell the name. Otherwise folks’re gonna…” She looks to the windows of the diner and notes the patrons already staring. “Alright folks, get back to your meals! Nothin’ to see here!”

“And you,” she says, turning to Sandra with a disapproving finger. “Have ya been eatin’ right? You’re pale as the moon and shiverin’ like a leaf.”

“I’m fine, Betty. Just a cold morning.”

“Cold enough to freeze the tits off a brahmin,” the woman confirms. “Ya can tell me all about it over coffee, huh?”

“What about Shadow?”

“He’s cleaner than half the diners I got in here. Just mind his manners, and I’ll get him some slop.”

“And…” she nudges to Fred.

“Wheel the big fella around back, and we’ll figure somethin’ out,” she sighs. “Your robot friend can keep an eye on him, right?”

> Hmm…
> [] Fred’s attracting a lot of attention and probably needs supervision. Stay outside.
> [] Deathclaws are people too… sort of. Try to talk her into letting Fred come in.
> [] Other

>>1869853
>> [] Fred’s attracting a lot of attention and probably needs supervision. Stay outside

>>1869853
>[] Fred’s attracting a lot of attention and probably needs supervision. Stay outside.
>Other: have one of the Eyebots go with Sandra so we can still interact with people in the diner

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>>1869888
>>1869874
>>1869853

“On it,” you assure her, but you spare one of your three eyebots still with you to go with Sandra. “Come on, Fred!”

Fortunately, a leading hand and a couple of chirping noises are all it takes to get her moving, cart and all, toward the back.

“So, what’s goin’ on, kiddo?” you hear on the eyebot line as Sandra is led by the shoulder inside. “Walkin’ round in a half k worth of armor, getting’ towed by a death claw, and armed with a fresh crew o’ robots that ain’t three quarters rust. Heck even the dog’s got armor.”

You do notice that your companion is turning heads as she enters the tavern, a host of rough faces turned toward her in various shades of grizzle, gruff, and grime.

“Ain’t gonna lie, it isn’t a bad look on ya. Just curious is all. Ya haven’t joined up with the Brotherhood, have ya?”

“What? Me? No!” she assures the older woman. “I just made some new friends is all.”

No sooner is she handed a mug full of something hot than she’s tipping it in the direction of your eyebot.

“Machine’s aren’t friends, kiddo. Same way a washer ain’t your friend. It’s all just programming and such.”

She seems assured of that as she seats herself at the same booth as Sandra with her own mug. Is it time to destroy her world view?

> What to do…
> [] Introduce yourself
> [] Introduce yourself as SARA
> [] Go with it for now
> [] Other

>>1869940
> [] Introduce yourself as SARA

Lets spread the word.

>>1869940
>[] Introduce yourself as SARA
>[x] I would appreciate it if people would stop dismantling any SARA substations, as I can't help people if my systems are broken down for scrap and caps.
>[x] Oh, but no, didn't you know? True Artificial Intelligence has been around since 2059; don't tell me people have forgotten the ZAX series.

>>1869940
> [] Introduce yourself
>"Pre-War programming doesn't typically deal with teaching Deathclaws how to pull sleighs built out of mirelurk shells, ma'am. That takes a bit more creative thought and audacity."

Wait, did Jeremy warn us not to advertise that we're an Artificial Intelligence?
From what I remember us being told about the Brotherhood of Steel, no mention was made of their stance on AI.
We don't know if the West Coast BoS has adopted the anti-AI stance of the East Coast BoS.

>>1869993
>Wait, did Jeremy warn us not to advertise that we're an Artificial Intelligence?
No, that was the ghoul on the motorcycle. And it's safe to assume that the BoS would be VERY interested in us, after what Jeremy and Sandra told us.

>>1869940
>> [X] Go with it for now

I'm pretty sure a certain Ghoul Biker said we most likely shouldn't spread around who we are.

>>1869940
> [] Introduce yourself
We're not ready to take on the responsibility of safeguarding the city yet

>>1869940
Change >>1869985
to
> [] Go with it for now

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>>1870106
>>1870098
>>1870029
>>1870025
>>1869993
>>1869989
>>1869985
>>1869958
>>1869940

“The name’s, Sara,” you mention, cutting into the conversation. Clearly the woman wasn’t expecting that. So, you spare the extra explanation that obviates your acronym. “And I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I’d say I’m a cut above the Mr. Coffee you have brewing in the background over there. I’ve got thoughts, feelings, and a penchant for getting the two of us out of trouble when push comes to shove.”

“At least once for every time she’s gotten us into trouble in the first place,” Sandra concedes, sipping on the warm cup.

“Pardon the assumption then,” the old woman coughs.

--

At that exact moment, a cook is coming out of the back door with a pan in both hands. His expression is curious in that moment, but quickly turns disbelieving as he lays down his tray of warm goo on the ground and Fred immediately trots over and pounces on it, wolfing down everything she can fit in her mouth with some very unladylike noises.

No surprise there, you suppose. Gravy, biscuits, bits of meat, vegetables, and rice. She probably hasn’t eaten this well in days. The chef meanwhile just crouches there and watches, a dark-skinned man with a wide smile and a round belly. He seems to be contemplating reaching his hand to pet her, but holds himself back, content with enjoying the spectacle.

“A good day to come into work,” he decides for himself.

--

“So, are all three o’ the robots ya found this chatty?” Betty asks of Sandra.

“In the sense that I’m piloting this one remotely, yes,” you answer, “or I guess you could think of it more as a mobile speaker. Meanwhile, I’m making sure Fred doesn’t eat the tin along with the food.”

“It’s comin’ outta Marco’s pay if he does,” she warns, “but, eh. Ya don’t talk like any machine I’ve heard, and Sandra’s willin’ to put her stock in ya. Guess that’s good enough for me. Unfortunately, don’t imagine you’d care for coffee or a seat?”

“Not really, no.”

But information…

> Ask about…
> [] Happenings in the city
> [] The Brotherhood of Steel
> [] Her relationship with Sandra. They seem friendly.
> [] The Diner. Where’s Wilma?
> [] Other

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>>1870111

And with that, I need to get some sleep. Sorry again for today being so choppy. I've just been under stress and sickness.

>>1870111
>[] The Brotherhood of Steel
>[x] Other
Any good people to meet? Seems all we hear about is who to avoid.

>>1870111
> [] Her relationship with Sandra. They seem friendly.
> [] The Diner. Where’s Wilma?
> [] Happenings in the city.

>>1870111
Dammit, when a ghoul gives you advice it's generally a good idea to take it! We are not ready to go public yet!
> [] The Brotherhood of Steel
> [] Her relationship with Sandra. They seem friendly.
> [] The Diner. Where’s Wilma?

>>1870111
> [] The Brotherhood of Steel

But we might avoid them until we can convince them not to scrap us on sight.

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>>1870522
>>1870245
>>1870130
>>1870128
>>1870111

“I’m sure there’s plenty of other things we can talk about,” you continue. “I’m kind of new to the area, and I’m still trying to get my bearings. Maybe you can help.”

“Maybe, what did ya wanna know?” she asks.

“A lot of things, honestly. I guess we’ll start with something easy. How do you and Sandra know each other? You seem to get along pretty well.”

“Ah. Well, I guess ya could say we’ve had time to get friendly,” Betty explains. “Been comin’ around since she was twelve, helpin’ her uncle run the rounds. They’d usually head my way sooner or later. Always said, ‘The poor thing’s too skinny. Get some food in her!’, and it just kind of turned into a regular stop for the two of ‘em. How is the old guy anyway, sweetie?”

“Retired,” she answers simply. “Just as well really. His legs aren’t what they used to be. Neither are his lungs.”

“Well, at least he’s got his family to look after him, doesn’t he? It’s not everybody around here that gets to retire.”

A couple of seconds later, a man is round out of the kitchen with what appears to be two plates of eggs speckled here and there with purplish meat. Sandra doesn’t think twice about digging in.

“You got caps this time, hon, or should I stick it on your tab?”

Sandra holds up a finger as she quickly swallows down a mouthful, reaching her other hand in her pocket before pulling out a bottle of med-x and a package of rad-away before setting them on the table.

“Yeah. Guess that’ll do it. Ain’t even the repackaged stuff.” The old woman quickly tucks the bag away. “It’s not every day you see medicine that wasn’t cooked up by some chem head outta god knows what. Guessing you found a good haul.”

“We got a little lucky,” Sandra answers vaguely before grabbing another fork full.

“So long as ya don’t take anything off someone who’s still alive,” Betty shrugs. “That’s what separates a raider from us normal folks.”

Sandra just gives her a look that says a thousand words.

“What? I know ya better than that, sure, but it never hurts to say it again!”

“We got a lucky hunch and cleaned out an untouched prewar locker,” you explain. “It looked like an old police armory. Still had guns, armor, and a bit of medicine too.”

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>>1872012

“Heh. That’s more than a little lucky,” the old woman insists, “but it seems like ya probably deserve it after whatever happened to poor Shadow here.”

Shadow turns his head up inquisitively, just as quickly losing focus as a bowl of slop is brought down in front of him.

“Ya can still see the bandages, all over. What happened there?”

“Raiders,” Sandra grumbles. “Over at the Museum of Flight.”

“Lurkers?”

“Sons of Anarchy. At least, I think. Their tattoos looked off.”

“Maybe they were pretenders,” Betty suggests. “Last I heard, they’d moved further down south to avoid run-ins with the Brotherhood. Of course, that just means you see more Lurkers runnin’ around.”

“We bumped into one by the name of Johnnie Boy down by the shore,” you note, “but what can you tell me about the Brotherhood, anyway?”

“Not much, really. Had a couple of their boys through here today. They’re polite, generally pay their tabs up front, and don’t make a mess.”

She lowers her voice a bit.

“Of course, outside the restaurant, everyone knows it wasn’t always sunshine and roses. As a matter of fact, it’s still a sore spot for some of the locals from when they first marched in a couple years ago. Their leader, think they called him Elder Morris or some such, made a whole big fuss tryin’ to poke his fingers everywhere they didn’t belong.

“Styled himself like a real army type, but ya wouldn’t have known him from a raider or a mobster from how he acted. He kept demandin’ all sorts of stuff outta the locals, like money for protection, discounts on goods and services for his boys. Damn near ran some folks outta business and others outta their homes before all was said and done. Got it in his head it was the only way he was gonna clean sweep the Valks outta Seattle.”

“And? What happened?”

“Well, by god, they kicked ‘em outta Harbor Island after about four years, but then they tried to push for the Stadiums right after. Somethin’ must have gone wrong, cuz they had plenty of guns and plenty of boys, but they got whooped somethin’ fierce. Folks that made it back said Ol’ Morris took a bullet or twelve to the dome during the whole exchange and they wound up leavin’ him where he fell before some kinda panic took hold of everyone else.

“Those that didn’t get gunned down tryin’ to turn tail and scram came back to base shaken as all hell. They pinned themselves a new leader, girl by the name of Crow. She ain’t the same as the guy before, and folks’ve been thankful for that. She’s mostly just been tryin’ to rebuild burnt bridges and keep the raider troubles from getting any worse while she gets ready for another round with the Valks.

“Still, it’s slow goin’ under her administration. Say what you will about Morris. He may have been evil, but that surly son of a bitch could put up a good fight.”

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>>1872017

“I see. Are there any faces around town that I should know? Is Wilma still around?”

“My great grandma was Wilma,” Betty explains. “Her daughter named the place after her, and it’s been in the family ever since. As for folks you should trust, well, nobody if ya can help it. Sad to say, but it’s the truth out there, and folks’re never quite what they seem.

“Even Sandra?”

“Especially Sandra! You can see it in her eyes, can’t ya? Little mole rat’s just waiting for the right time to strike!”

“Hey!”

“Hay is for horses, kiddo. Also, don’t talk with your mouth full. Anyhow, kiddin’ aside, the Metro boys are generally a good bunch. They mind their own and pop a raider every now and again. Blue Bandana caravan drivers and their contemporaries on the Golden Caravan ain’t bad either. Just don’t trust a uniform to tell you who’s who.

“Folks across the river mind their own business. They’re sharecroppers and generally nice folks. The Brotherhood looks out for ‘em and that means they don’t have to get mean just to survive. Folks still left out in the big city, though, they’re livin’ on the edge of a warzone.”

“What about Vault 29?” Sandra asks.

“Them? Well, they’ve been out of touch since the Anarchists moved down south. Not a surprise that it’d be hard to get runners up here.”

“Vault 29?” you ask.

“Vault with a wall of brains as an overseer,” Sandra explains simply. “It’s fucking creepy.”

--

Fred is full. Fred is happy. Fred enjoys belly scritches.

But maybe it’s time to move on.

> What to do…
> [] Ask more questions (Write-in)
> [] Get going to the Museum of Living Computers.
> [] Other

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>>1872019

And of course, no sooner do I sit down to write than my family is calling me away to a barbecue. I'll be back. Don't know when, though.

>>1872026
But on the other hand, free barbecue.>>1872019
> [] Ask more questions (Write-in): Just one. Ask if they need help with anything we can do on our way back. Sidequest wouldnt hurt, and could help our reputation.
> [] Get going to the Museum of Living Computers.

>>1872068
OH, just thought of something. Offer them some pre-war recipes if we have any.

>>1872012
> [] Get going to the Museum of Living Computers.

>“So long as ya don’t take anything off someone who’s still alive,” Betty shrugs. “That’s what separates a raider from us normal folks.”
A true gentleman always kills their mark before relieving them of their valuables.

>They pinned themselves a new leader, girl by the name of Crow. (After a crushing defeat)
I thought the Brotherhood abhorred cannibalism!

>>1872084
What are they going to do with a recipe for tuna and jello pie? 50s cuisine was not a hotbed of deliciousness, and we don't have the tastebuds to tell the difference.

>>1872019
>[] Other
Check our databanks for Vault 29.

>Ask more questions
"Heard anything about the Museum of Living Computers?"

>>1872110
Obviously we'd give them recipes for things that we already see they have ingredients for,like eggs

>>1872068
Lets do some side-quests.

>>1872068
supporting

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>>1872068
Sure, couldn't hurt.

>>1872084
Give her our Lobster Relish recipe, I'm sure she could make do with mirelurk meat.

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>>1873357
>>1873314
>>1873264
>>1872589
>>1872133
>>1872110
>>1872084
>>1872068
>>1872019

“Interesting. Must be some kind of compound robo-brain.”

“Call it whatever ya want,” Betty says with a shrug. “Those folks don’t do anybody any harm. I’d sure like to know what happened to them.”

“Vault 29,” you say, looking through your database to find the exact location. It seems that during the process of construction, they received copious shipments of medical supplies from the nearby hospital, and a mass order of military grade robo-brain preservation fluid. “That’s not even in Seattle proper anymore. It’s down past White Center and into Burien.”

In fact, it’s surprisingly close to the airport you went to earlier. It just hadn’t occurred to you at the time.

“They’re a bit outta the way,” the old woman concedes.

“Hmm,” Sandra murmurs. “We were further south than that yesterday and didn’t bump into a single Son of Anarchy. Maybe they made a beeline for Kent…”

“Nothin’ down there but land and rad-coons,” Betty contests. “Don’t see them down there, at least not with a ho o’ that kind, if ye take my meanin’.”

“Rad-coons?”

“Geeze! Ya know where the vault is but haven’t bumped into one o’ them furry buggers, yet? Musta crawled out of a vault or somethin’.”

“Or something,” you agree. “Let’s just say I spent a while knocking rust out of my chassis.”

“I swear, wish I had one o’ them there books we show the kiddos.”

“You mean, The Wasteland Survival Guide?” Sandra asks.

“Nah, the other one…. Hmm… Ah! A Thousand and One Things That’ll Kill Ya!”

“Lovely…”

“Anyhow, hon, all ya gotta know is that they’re fuzzy little bastards. Look like cats with striped tails wearin’ masks, and where there’s one, there’s darn near always twenty more. They’re smarter than they look, and they don’t look dumb. Some folks even say they can use guns.”

“Some people need to drink less,” Sandra mutters.

“Laugh all ya want, but Daryl’s the one that said it, and that boy never lied a day in his life! Never hit the hooch too hard to know which way was up either.”

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>>1873644


“Anyway, assuming we don’t make it by the vault, is there anything else we can help you with?”

“What? You mean for caps?”

“Caps, food, maybe just out of the goodness of our own hearts. Haven’t really decided yet. Does anything come to mind?”

“Well, I’m a cook, hon. My needs aren’t really all that complicated. The Mr. Coffee’s been on the fritz a good minute, and I could use a couple parts for it if ya can find ‘em. We’ve also got the water purifier chuggin’ like the devil and don’t know why. All I know is folks come back more often when they don’t get irradiated after their meals.

“Other than that, a couple spare ingredients never hurt: spices, meat, vegetables, that sorta thing. Recipes ain’t bad either, but we don’t really have the right stuff to make most of ‘em anymore. I’d kill to sink my teeth into a prewar apple. I’d also give that apple right back up to whoever could kill that damn yao guai.”

“The one with the cubs?” you question.

“I’m guessin’,” she says. “All I know is tall, dark, and ugly ain’t been hibernating like she should. Instead, she’s been sniffin’ around the diner, and we even found a broken window recently with claw marks on the walls. She’s a little shy o’ breaking in here, but if she does, we’ll be outta business in a heartbeat. Naturally, it ain’t a task most folks’d be up to.”

“You could trade the head off of one of them for a couple hundred caps, easy,” Sandra explains, “and that’s because they’re built like blocks of lead with teeth. Only thing scarier are death claws and Thrashers.”

You just shake your head. You really need a goddamn bestiary.

“Hand over the meat on that sucker, and I’ll put five hundred caps on the table, easy,” the woman counters. “Money don’t do ya any good if ya can’t live to make anymore of it.”

She has a point, and you have options…

> What to do… (Also, roll 1d100)
> [] Leave now for the Museum. You can worry about errands later.
> [] Do some repair work around the shop first. Build up some credit.
> [] Guess you have to go kill a giant, irradiated bear now. Best catch it sooner, rather than later.
> [] Other

>>1873647
Guess you have to go kill a giant, irradiated bear now. Best catch it sooner, rather than later.

TAME THE BEAR

>>1873647
>take drugs! Kill Bear!

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>>1873647

Back from the barbecue, just in time to need to sleep again. I live, I die, I live again! I also apologize again for leaving people hanging for the evening. We'll pick back up tomorrow though. Hope folks are having fun, at least.

>>1873659

we need to take one of the cubs and tame it, then call it smokey. we the beastmaster

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>1873647
> [] Do some repair work around the shop first. Build up some credit.
Lets take a look at that water purifier. if we cant fix it, at least we'll know what parts were going to need later.
We can look into bear murder on the way back.

>>1873647
Kill bear. Raise cubs. Create armored yao gui and yao gui cavalry corps.

It will also likely force Henry to reveal her Mommy side making her that much closer to a Deathclaw Matriarch.

>>1873647
>> [] Do some repair work around the shop first. Build up some credit.
Easy stuff first.

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>1873647
>> [] Do some repair work around the shop first. Build up some credit.
Tech support is your calling. Have you tried turning everything off, then on again?

>>1873721
>Henry

you mean fred?

>>1873721
Forcing motherhood at a young age has never worked out well.

>>1873748
My bad.

>>1873785
I thought Fred was in adolescence?

Way too big to be just a child deathclaw still. Besides it works differently in the animal kingdom. Its not like she is going to lay eggs. The yao gui cubs gotta latch onto someone and Fred is...actually the only one who is somewhat equipped to do so.

Besides the thought of there being a some yao gui following Fred around is hilarious.

>>1873909

this. we need bears too, whatelse do we need to tame... oh, fog crawlers!

>>1873917
Have you played the games? How many times do you encounter dead people who tried taming beasts?

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>1873647
>> [] Do some repair work around the shop first. Build up some credit.
Go after the bear AFTER we get armor plating from the Museum, and a bigger gun than our piddly peashooter.

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>1873647
> [] Do some repair work around the shop first. Build up some credit.

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>>1874474
>>1874324
>>1874136
>>1873917
>>1873909
>>1873785
>>1873748
>>1873744
>>1873732
>>1873721
>>1873713
>>1873664
>>1873659
>>1873657
>>1873647

> 50

You’re going to need more time to plan out taking on that bear, you realize. Right now, everything you have that’s been combat-tested amounts to a small number of comparatively weak laser pistols, barely a match for the local ghouls, let alone something that dwarfs them as a threat.

There’s also the matter of the cubs. Fred was trained by someone, and thus far she’s been a huge help. If you could catch the cubs after dealing with their mother, maybe you could find a way to condition them in a similar way. That isn’t to mention that in the worst-case scenario, it would still be best not to let them run loose and grow into a new threat on their own.

You put the most part of that out of mind as you pop open the case on the Mr. Coffee and give it a look-see, and unfortunately, it’s looking like this is going to require prep work all its own. Having catalogued quite a lot of old-world technology schematics to help with public service, you can tell that this old machine has been put through the ringer. Half of its components are tape, and the other half don’t even look like they belong to this kind of machine. The aerator gaskets are missing, the heater coil is rusted out, and the internal temperature is probably boiling out contents from the non-food grade rubber tubing they’re using as hold-overs.

Truth be told, the water purifier isn’t doing much better. This isn’t even in your database and you can tell that much. The ‘chugging’ as she put it is probably because the jury-rigged pump is going out. The sensors are fouled. The controller is a mess, and you’re pretty sure there’s a blockage down the pipe that’s further screwing the pooch.

All-in-all, you have to kindly inform her that you’ll be giving these issues a pass until you can do a bit of scavenging for the right parts. She doesn’t seem at all surprised as she escorts you both outside and wishes you well on your travels, the patron’s eyes once again lingering on you as Fred rolls around and you do your best to get out of sight.

“Probably should have roughed up this armor a bit,” Sandra contemplates, looking down at the pristine chest piece. “Anything that shines attracts way too much attention.”

“Hardly the only thing off about us,” you point out.

“I know. Still, folks around here’ll kill you for a nice pair of boots. No sense painting a target on your back. Speaking of which, were you serious about taking out the yao guai?”

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>>1875877

“Pretty much,” you inform her. “I think we can do it with some planning. Don’t you?”

“Don’t know,” she answers honestly. “That’s a lot of ugly to put down. Not even sure if these grenades will do more than piss it off.”

She thumbs one of the thermal grenades you’d given her yesterday, hefting it experimentally before returning it to her belt.

“So, are we swinging by the Metro?”

“Probably not,” you say, already correcting your course to gain a bit of distance from the approaching wooden barricades. “We don’t have much to trade, and we’d be burning daylight with the detour.”

Sandra doesn’t raise any objection with that, nor does anyone from the Metro itself seem interested in delaying your progress as you speed past from a street over and make your way toward the old Union Pacific tracks. As you suspected, the surrounding grounds there are mostly clear: nothing but overturned cars and the occasional set of tracks peeking from beneath the snow.

Whatever wildlife was in the area seems to think twice as you roll by with Fred, hairless mutts and rodents alike slinking back into their isles as they rethink an ambush against something well-armed and able to move this fast, leaving you free to try to identify the shipments that you have on record for the boxes still lying on the tracks.

Some of them have clearly been opened by the intrepid, searched for their contents, perhaps even lived in for a time before being abandoned. The latter really shouldn’t surprise you, you suppose. Even before the war, rail cars weren’t uncommon places for the homeless to dwell temporarily. They lacked insulation, sure, but their composition wasn’t that much different from a mobile home, hard steel siding able to keep out the winds and the elements for a time at least.

Now that you think about it, someone with the right tools and the right mentality could gather a gold mine of raw materials off these old cars. Seems some people may have even done so already, judging by the places where it seems that some units were stripped down to the heavy iron treads. Why they stopped is a mystery, but you make a mental note of these possible resources for the future.

You also note that in your logs, there appears to have been a major military supply drop slated for this location via train a day after the bombs. Putting your logistics to work, you can place that delivery stopping somewhere near Cougar Valley before the system likely came to a halt. That’s twenty suits of power armor, a laundry list of weapons, and other things not disclosed sitting in a lockbox that’s a hundred miles away.

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>>1875885

If it’s still there at all, though, it’ll be there for the next couple of months. What you are focused on right now is the museum rolling into view. Otherwise known as the technology trio of the city’s museums, the communication, power, and computer museum were rather close together, and from the looks of things escaped most of the carnage of the bomb’s dropping.

Signs are dilapidated, windows are shattered, and all of the other irrepressible marks of history are there, of course, but the building still seems to be in remarkable shape. Just one problem, and that would be the jeep right in front of it, it’s back filled with cargo and it’s spare tire emblazoned with the image of a mirelurk in white paint.

> Great…
> [] Go in shooting! All this base are belong to you!
> [] Try to be stealthy. No need to alert them to your presence.
> [] Hey! Free car!
> [] Other

>>1875889
"DEATHCLAWS ARE COOLER THAN MIRELURKS LOOSERS".

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>1875889
>> [] Try to be stealthy. No need to alert them to your presence.
Dice gods, please be gentle.

>>1875889
>> [] Try to be stealthy. No need to alert them to your presence.

>>1875889
>Try to be stealthy. No need to alert them to your presence.
Let's only whack the 'lurks if they cause problem.

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>>1875934
>>1875935
>>1875942
>>1875948
>>1875889

Alright, I'll need a 1d100 for this. Also, pick a stealth option.
> [] Observe from a distance
> [] Try to get inside
> [] Disable their vehicle
> [] Other

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>1875960
>Disable their vehicle

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>1875960
Hide Sandra and shadow in the jeep while you and fred find some more suitable cover for a giant lizard doggo.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>1875960
> [] Disable their vehicle

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>1875960
> [] Disable their vehicle

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>1875960
>Other: Steal the vehicle (hotwire it or put it in neutral to have Fred drag it) and ask who this band of raiders are

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>>1876033
>>1875976
>>1875973
>>1875972
>>1875968
>>1875960

> 74

The first step is going to be making sure they can’t get away with everything they presently have packed up. So, you signal to the others to stay behind and carefully stalk your way down the street, ducking behind a ruined mailbox just in time to avoid a duo walking out in combat fatigues.

“Can you fucking believe this, Dave?” a mohawked man demands of his larger, bearded colleague. “It’s been two weeks now, coldest day of the goddamn year, and the boss still has us hauling boxes out of this shithole!”

“Hey, at least she loaned us the jeep,” the man points out, setting his package down in the jeep bed. “Otherwise, we’d be dragging it all back through the snow, you know?”

“Quit draggin’ yer ass! Move it! Move it!” comes a rough female voice from inside.

“Fuckin’ drill sergeant Beth,” the mohawked man complains. “Liked her better when her mouth was full of Johnnie Boy’s cock.”

“Randy, watch it!” the other man hisses.

“What? She gets pulled offa babysitting duty with that psycho after two months, and suddenly she’s better than us? Get real.”

“Boss only sends the best with the kid, ya know,” the other confers. “Says he’s got a gift.”

“More like he’s got fucking mental issues,” Randy fires back, strapping the boxes down to the truck angrily, “and someday boss ain’t gonna be the boss anymore. That day comes, I’ll strangle the little shit myself! You’ll see.”

“Hey!” an angry voice comes from the doorway, then a gunshot, the hot metal shaving a clean line right through Randy’s mohawk before pounding into the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

You recognize the person firing as the blonde from yesterday.

“Jesus, you crazy bitch! You tryin’ to kill me?!”

“Tryin’ to get you to hurry the fuck up!” she yells. “Now stop talking with your goddamn girlfriend, or you’ll be walking home with a bullet through each leg. Got it?”

The man scowls, seeming to contemplate reaching for the gun on his back before trudging back up to the entryway.

“Yes, ‘ma’am’,” comes his response, dripping with as much venom as you can imagine possible before both men disappear back inside along with their apparent commander.

So, probably only three of them here. They’re all armed, though not especially well-armored. No signs of dogs or other backup. You consider all the factors as you rope a hand under their hood and decouple a few wires.

It’s nothing some tape and time won’t fix, but in a pinch, it will keep them from running.

> Now what…
> [] Go in under cover and introduce yourself. Maybe you can persuade them somehow.
> [] Set-up an ambush for when they come back out
> [] Go in after them, guns blazing!
> [] Other

>>1876064
>Set-up an ambush for when they come back out
Pwn Valks?

>>1876064
Of the listed options, I'd pick:
>> [] Set-up an ambush for when they come back out
I'd rather get the DAVID unit in there through a side entrance and whack the leader on her lonesome, though. With the van disabled and no tech-priests among the current crowd, their loot should still be sitting here even if we break LOS for a few minutes. Which we don't have to, of course, because we have an entire party of bots, claws and guns to do both options.

>>1876064
>Go in undercover
I kinda want to see what the valks are all about, no point in only getting one side of the story.

>>1876064
>[] Set-up an ambush for when they come back out
Fred, KILL!

>>1876071
>>1876079
Valkyries are an all-female Raider gang; this obviously has men in it.

>>1876088
Even so, I kinda want to learn more about the local raider gangs and this kid their talking about.

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>>1876064
>>1876071
>>1876078
>>1876079
>>1876083

Ambush seems to be taking it. That said, I'll need a 1d100 roll and some strategy. Also, specify:

> [] No survivors
> [] Try to force a surrender

>>1876093
It's probably Johnny, that Jet-blasted raider we saw the pigtailed blonde with last time in that vet clinic.

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>1876112
> [] No survivors
No correctional facilities are currently available. Martial law is in effect. Looters are to be executed on sight! Unless you're the one doing the looting.

>>1876112
> [] Try to force a surrender
Let Dave live, just so we can't let him do that.

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>1876112
>> [X] No survivors

Sorry but we don't have time for survivors. Maybe if one survives we can interrogate them, but if they all get shot to shit it won't be no skin off my back.

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>1876112
>Try to Force a surrender
As the Jeep pulls away, shoot out the tires, then have Fred and the David unit come barreling down the road towards them while everyone else keep up suppressive fire. Once within earshot, offer a chance to surrender in the silver shroud voice. Maybe make up a imposing name to spout, ala: "Your under arrest under the authority of ________, Lay down your weapons or be shot!"

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>1876112
>[] No survivors
Lead Fred via the DAVID to the front corner of the Museum, and have her wait to strike. Make sure that there is no line of sight from inside or from the doorway to where she is, so that as soon as someone steps out she can rush them and tear them apart.

The Eyebots bunch up on the other side of the building from where Fred will hide, and get some elevation, so that when the raiders are outside we can focus fire on them.

Sandra is to get to a place with cover and set up to shoot.

We let the Raiders get halfway to the Jeep before Sandra and the Eyebots open fire on the middle and lead raider, and we direct Fred to take the last Raider in line.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>1876130
>>1876112
Damn it, been forgetting to roll too often...

>>1876135
>shooting towards a vehicle
>in the Fallout universe
Despite your high roll, that's a pretty bad idea.
Not to mention we already disabled the Jeep.

Come on guys, we got good rolls for surrender plus there is no reason to not build up a legend among the raider gangs.
Imagine if you overheard people talking about the silver shroud becoming reality and snuffing out crime. Raiders beware!
>>1876143
OP already said that vehicles are quick to explode and hard to maneuver through the streets, it's better if we stick to the sled for now.

>>1876153
>The Jeep is already disabled, they're not going to be able to drive away
>Shooting at the tires means shooting at the Jeep, which introduces a chance of a shot hitting the nuclear battery
Is it still unclear why your plan is a bad one?

>>1876159
I understand it but if we blow up the Jeep and kill some of the mooks we increase the chances of surrender. Shooting the tires is a sorta psychological effect, basically saying "There is no escape"

>>1876183
There's only three of them, the Jeep is already loaded, and why would just one get in while the other two would be far enough away that the exploding vehicle wouldn't kill them as well?

>>1876183
if we blow up the Jeep and kill some of the mooks we increase the chances of surrender.

As well as lose a ton of possible salvage, although I'd probably would have just stolen the jeep, in that case...

>>1876183
it also blows up all the loot they've collected, defeating the purpose of this outing. Nope. Nuh-uh.

>>1876198
>>1876196
>>1876195
Something I actually didnt consider, but I still persist with keeping the people alive. They have taken one or more loads of salvage already, more stuff we could take if we knew where they are taking it, and also if we knew what they were working on we could possibly hijack/destroy it. For all we know they could be building some superbot or something.

>>1876232
We should keep Mohawk guy or the other dude alive they seem discontent and more likely than the 'boss' but we shouldn't go to far to try to take prisoners we can always ask around where the mirelurk raiders base is

>>1876240
I was thinking we take them prisoner, interrogate, and hand them off to the metro on the way back, maybe collect a bounty or something, if they wont take them we would have to see what Sandra's thoughts about breaking the Geneva convention are.

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>>1876112
>>1876123
>>1876130
>>1876134
>>1876135
>>1876137
>>1876139

> 95

With the trio going back for another load, the time is ripe to position a take-down. You relay the instructions as quickly as you can via eyebot to Sandra, instructing her on how to decouple Fred from the sled before calling the death claw over. You try to make it clear with gestures and gentle noises that she is going to have to be quiet, this time around, and fortunately, it seems your posture at least gets through to her.

On some peculiar instinct, she tucks her front paws up, standing on two feet and keeping her body low to the ground as you loop up through the shadows and vault through a nearby window. The goal is to leave them nowhere to run, to hamstring them when they try to beat a retreat. Meanwhile, Sandra and Shadow, along with the three eyebots are going to cover the front in its entirety.

It seems at least that wherever they are transferring their cargo from is far away from the entrance, and that gives you plenty of time to maneuver, turning it all into a waiting game come the end, which apparently is not Fred’s strong suit as she hears footsteps coming back up the stairs.

“We can get about two more loads from here,” you hear the large man say. “The day’s young, but maybe we can finish moving everything before the sun gets too high.”

“Good,” Randy retorts. “Last thing we want is for shit to be well-lit and somewhere north of freezing while loading all of this shit.”

“Oww!” he shouts a second later as the clack of a pistol butt impacting a skull echoes in the confined space.

“If we can see everything, so can they,” Beth points out. “You want somebody taking potshots at us? The boss’ll plug each new hole in the Jeep with a piece of ya!”

“Plug this, ya stupid bitch!”

They just come into your field of sight then, a machine gun whirling around almost too fast to see as Randy prepares to fire on Beth.

He never gets a chance to pull the trigger as a boot lands firmly in his crotch and another slams into his sternum, the gun coming free from his grip and the man tumbling out the door as the woman yanks the gun from his hand.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she concludes, and granted your present agenda, you see no reason to interfere.

She stalks forward casually, almost happily, and with a simple pull of the trigger from his own gun, saws Randy almost in half with bullets.

“Whelp, guess we’ll be pulling double duty from here on-.”

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>>1876533

But you have already given Fred her orders, and it takes less than two seconds for her to execute them, the lizard-like beast moving at frankly terrifying speeds you hadn’t anticipated before bowling the remaining figures off their feet. You aren’t far behind, grabbing the nameless gentlemen with both hands before throwing him out into the street.

From the sound of that impact, you doubt he’s still conscious, and from the snapping sounds coming from the woman’s arm and the screams as the gun she was trying to aim at Fred falls from her hands, you don’t imagine she’ll be putting up much of a fight, either.

> What to do…
> [] Pump them for information before killing them
> [] Just kill them.
> [] Other

>>1876539
> [] Other
"Fred!"
(Points at Beth)
"Fetch!"
(Fred drags Beth over)
> [] Pump them for information before killing them

>>1876539
Pump for information sounds like we should have a bit of time here

>>1876539
>[] Pump them for information before killing them
Eh. A happy happenstance from getting a high roll, rather than an intended one that could have cost us with a low roll.

Either way, we're feeding them to Fred.
They're not worth the bullets or energy cells.

>>1876539
>> [] Just kill them.
Not everyone knows something worth sharing. The less time they're alive the less time they have to surprise us.

>>1876560
>Either way, we're feeding them to Fred.
I dunno about feeding people to Fred. If you teach an animal to eat humans, it might decide to take a bite out of one of the cooks or patrons at the diner if they get too close to the food bowl.

>>1876635
Fred's a smart girl. Besides, we're not a human so that's not as much of a concern.

>>1876644
Sandra, however, is a human.

And Fred, while smart and only a teenager, is still a huge fuck-off deathclaw.

Let's not risk her learning too many bad habits.

>>1876539
>>1876560
>>Either way, we're feeding them to Fred.
Fuck no, if only from a training perspective that would be a horrible idea.The last thing we need is her equating people and food.
>>[] Pump them for information before killing them
Personally, I wouldnt have jumped straight to murder so fast but , since im out voted, at least get something out of it, then make it quick and painless.

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>>1876539
>>1876547
>>1876548
>>1876560
>>1876590
>>1876673

> Define the questions you want answers to
> [] Write-in

> Choose your LOVE (Level of Violence)
> [] Minimal (you will still kill them)
> [] High (as in, possible alignment check)
> [] Other

>>1876681
>[] Write-in
1. What's special about Johnny, aside from being the Boss' son?
2. What were they told to scavenge from the Museum, and for what purpose?
3. How many vehicles do the Lurkers have, and of what type? Do they have a mechanic that can repair them?

> [] Other
Medium. Let's test our medical knowledge on them.

>>1876681
>Where'd you guys find this jeep?
>Whatcha doing in here?
>Where's your headquarters

> [] Minimal (you will still kill them)
A throat slit is really all we need. Sends a message and doesn't waste time.

>>1876681
>1. What's special about Johnny, aside from being the Boss' son?
>2. What were they told to scavenge from the Museum, and for what purpose?
>3. How many vehicles do the Lurkers have, and of what type? Do they have a mechanic that can repair them?
>Where do you come from?

High, RAIDERS BEGONE

>>1876681
>>[] Write-in
>1. Where's your headquarters?
>2. What were they told to scavenge from the Museum, and for what purpose?
>3. How many vehicles do the Lurkers have, and of what type? Do they have a mechanic that can repair them?
>> [] Other
>Minimal
Our 'job' is taking care of people sorta. It's like a vet and euthanasia for us I'd think

>>1876681
> [] High (as in, possible alignment check)
"Tell me juicy secrets. If you don't have anything worth saying, I will feed you to Fred. If I like what you say, you will not feel anything.
Now talk."

>>1876755
What are you asking them anon? You forgot to post questions.

>>1876737
This, plus a query about the one weird dude.

>>1876762
I don't have questions, I have a command and a suggestion to make their deaths easier on them.

>>1876681
>Where's your headquarters
>2. What were they told to scavenge from the Museum, and for what purpose?
>3. How many vehicles do the Lurkers have, and of what type? Do they have a mechanic that can repair them?

> [] Minimal (you will still kill them)

>>1876681
>>1876699
seconding this,
Except minimal violence.
I dont know why everyones suddenly trying to turn into a psychotic

>>1876783
It's in character

>>1876786
>It's in character
Not really. We're a Civil Service AI. If we came from a medical background, then I could see about testing medical knowledge.

Also, the knowledge we have relates to veterinary services. Think dogs and cats.

>>1876786
Its absolutely isnt, and in fact the argument could be made that excessive violence would actually be counter to our intended programming.

>>1876786
Have you even read the quest?

>>1876889
>>1876871
>>1876800
>implying raiders aren't the same as communists

>>1876892
Raiders are definitely not Communists. Anarchists better fits their description. Even filthy commie pinkos have some sort of order.

An order that goes against AMERICA! and her corporate partners in AMERICAN! capitalism, but order nonetheless.

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>>1876681
>>1876699
>>1876718
>>1876730
>>1876737
>>1876755
>>1876779
>>1876783

You send a quick message to Sandra not to shoot the unconscious man. After all, if Beth won’t talk, you’ll have to start over with him. Best not to waste a possible source of information.

“Good girl, Fred,” you applaud the death claw still holding the woman’s arm, coaxing her to let it go with a gentle scratch to her chin.

Being the good girl that she is, Fred complies and slowly shuffles back, licking the blood from her teeth and whining a little as the woman groans. How much of that performance on Beth’s part is real, who knows, but the discomfort apparently doesn’t stop her from trying to blow your head off with that magnum of hers in the split second you turn your eyes away.

You’re pretty sure you break a couple of her fingers as you subsequently kick the gun out of her hand and halfway across the room.

“Shit!” she curses, reaching for a grenade this time and cursing as you stop her short, separating your weight between her arm that hasn’t been torn to ribbons and her torso to fix her in place.

“Hello Beth,” you say casually.

“Hello, you’re fucking self,” the woman spits. “Go ahead and kill me! I dare-.”

You slam the molten spike into the floor next to her head and let the heat build, her ponytail smoking and catching fire, eventually separating entirely as the flames grow. She tries to move her head out of the way, and in response, you simply retract your spike and pin down her neck with your hand.

“When I’m ready,” you inform her, watching the panic grow in her eyes as she sees flames out of the corner of them and feels the heat.

“Hey! Stop fucking around!” she shouts, legs kicking ineffectually. “Do it clean! Do it fucking clean!”

“You asked me to kill you. You didn’t specify how…”

“I-I’ll talk! I’ll fucking talk, alright! Just put it out!”

You respond with a half-hearted rub against her scalp, letting her feel the embers as they go out, waiting to ignite again.

“Alright, then let’s talk,” you say. “First off, who’s Johnnie, and what’s so special about him?”

“Like hell if I know,” the woman chokes. You tighten your grip a little to emphasize that isn’t enough. “He’s the boss’s little brother, alright? A real fucking jet junky!”

“So, why does she keep top men around him at all times?” you inquire.

“She… She’s got a soft spot for blood, I guess? Some folks think he’s fucking psychic, but he’s just a druggie. Got off that detail as soon as I could.”

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>>1877023

“And started raiding museums instead,” you finish. “So, why are you here? What did they send you to pick up?”

“F-fuck you!” comes the expected response.

In return, you take a strong grip between her shoulder and neck, slowly squeezing with the unyielding strength of a robot until you hear the bones around the socket creak and threaten to snap.

“Is that secret worth your life?” you ask candidly. “If not, talk.”

“I-It’s just some bullshit from an egghead that was here a month ago!” she spits. “He built himself a lab in the basement or some shit and Johnnie Boy found it somehow. Fucking chem head has connections!”

“Was it a chem lab?” you ask, noting that Sandra has piled in through the door.

“N-no! Something else entirely! Looked like a pile of useless shit to me!”

“And where have you been taking the useless shit?” you probe. “Where’s your base?”

“Like I’d-.”

This time you grab her face, the cheekbones specifically, and apply the same technique, ignoring the uncomfortable sounds she makes until the tears come streaming down her face.

“Let me tell you how this is going to work,” you intone, letting her simmer for a moment. “Either you tell me where the base is, and I meet your crew on their own turf, or I wait until they come looking for you and your friends and they meet the same fate.”

“I don’t need sleep. I can see perfectly in the dark, and I didn’t even have to use a weapon to take you out,” you remind her. “So, either you paint a nice little picture for me, or I’ll make a trail of corpses on my way there.”

The deadpan delivery seems to cut through the woman’s bravado and she slackens. In return, you let her speak again.

“Gah! Hah!” she puffs. “It ain’t even fucking hidden. It’s right there on the water near the old plane factory north o’ Renton.”

“Kind of a stupid thing to suffer a broken jaw for then, isn’t it?” you quip. “And how many vehicles do you have on base? Who fixes them when they break down?”

“Two,” she admits, “including this one. We’ve got a couple boys in the hangar that try to fix these up every now and again, but they’re shit. Couldn’t hardly screw in a lightbulb without a manual and someone to hold their dick.”

“I see…”

> What to do…
> [] That’s all the info you need. Kill her.
> [] You have a few more questions. (Write-in)
> [] Other

>>1877027
>>1877027
Ask for numbers and any heavy or special equipment or units among them

>>1877049
supporting

>>1877027
>[] You have a few more questions. (Write-in)
1. Was this the first shipment or did some of the loot already go to Johnnie?

2. Does she want a blindfold or not? Any last words to a little sibling, perhaps?

May as well kill her with her own Magnum.

>>1877027
>> [] You have a few more questions. (Write-in)
"I'll do you a deal. You tell me about that other girl I saw you guarding Johnny with, her name, where I can find her, what drugs she needs to get through the day, and I'll only shoot you and not feed you to Fred here. Extra special limited time bonus if the first word out of your mouth is yes, me and Fred'll play fetch with her broken body while she's still alive."

Also >>1877049 and >>1877065.

>>1877072

supporting.

also shit, we a MERICAN robt. why didnt we resort tow warterbording?

I feel like our relationship with Sandra is going to somehow deteriorate because we are heavily implying that if they talk they will live, plus the fact that we went from "We want to rebuild Seattle and help people!" To "Nothing personnel, kid" when dealing with particularly rude people (We have literally no evidence of them killing people beyond hearsay, it doesn't exactly seem like a civil service bot to prosecute without evidence)

>>1877094
>We have literally no evidence of them killing people beyond hearsay,
We just witnessed Beth kill Randy.

>>1877102
Self defense.

>>1877106
Are you being this stupid because you don't know the setting, or just to shitpost?

>>1877094
Truth be told, I'm good with Beth being a casualty. Dave, however, I'm feeling a bit more merciful towards, due to the fact that he had to deal with the mohawked chucklehead who got mowed down and Beth here. I'd let him keep living, give him a chance to get his life around by scaring him straight.

>>1877027
>> [] That’s all the info you need. Kill her.
More than enough info for us. Reverse pickpocket a grenade down her throat.

>>1877126
>Reverse pickpocket a grenade down her throat.
That's a waste of a frag grenade when there's a 35% Magnum we can pick up and use.
Frags cost more than Magnum bullets.

>>1877126
Why bother wasting the grenade?? Perfectly good bullets, right here. Hell, we've got laser toting Eyebots, just light her up.

>>1877117
I know the setting well, but that doesn't explain how shooting person who pulled a gun on you isn't self defense, nor why it would cause the AI to go full Linkin Park and Hot Topic on the girl, and especially on the dude who did literally nothing but move scrap and chat shit.

>>1877179
No need to use bullets either, were a robot, just snap her neck. Itd probably be less painful too.

>>1877027
Tell her to leave the town and never return. We got better things to do. Like examin the old lab.

>>1877179
>>1877134
Bullets > grenades. They're both one-use items, but bullets have a much higher weight:value ratio. Come on, I'm a vicious hoarder and even I know hoarding items is pointless if you never use them. it's the worth the expenditure of one grenade (plus the raider's tattered armor if we didn't strip that yet).

>>1877239
Okay fine, you know what else it is?
Fucking loud, Messy, and unnecessarily cruel. Dont try to (poorly) justify this as a good idea when tis gong to let every raider ghoul and animal in a half mile around know theres fresh meat around because theres a half torso's worth of in the air and on everything in the immidiate area. AND we'll lose a grenade which, are STILL harder to come by then bullets.

>>1877239
>it's the worth the expenditure of one grenade

What world do you live in where exploding a one armed raider, who's already dying anyways, is a good use of a grenade?

We could give it to Sandra, we could trade it at Wilma's to feed Fred, we could use it on a group of raiders who're charging us, have it breach a locked door, rig a grenade trap for our safehouse, or use it for grenade fishing. All of those options are better uses for that grenade. Christ.

>>1877265
>>1877239
We have a melee weapon called The shining finger why use any ammo
>>1877284

>>1877284
>>1877265
In what world do you live in that I need an essay, a tax sheet and a tragic backstory to justify shoving a grenade down a filthy raider's throat?

>>1877288

this. activate Warner Eastern Entertainment Brocasting system and play relevent audion clip as well.

(yes, i just came up with an acronyme so we can havea WEEB system

>>1877336
So youre just going to drop all pretense that theres any sort of logic behind this and youre just being an ass.
Dont expect anyone to agree with or support you on decisions that bring nothing but negative results

>>1877336
Raiders are humans too.

>>1877353
'Dead raider' is a positive result.
>>1877356
We aren't.

>>1877356
Nah.

>>1877363
>'Dead raider' is a positive result.

Dead raider we could have killed with minimal ammo expenditure and without warning any other hostiles isn't.

WE LITERALLY HAVE HER IN OUR COLD, POWERFUL ROBOT HANDS. We could spike her, break her neck, bash her head in with our fist, slam her head against the ground like we're cracking an egg. All without using a grenade, which is meant for multiple enemies, and is loud, and is expensive, and can be traded for shit we might need.

>>1877381

i love how we have sides arguing over kill or dont kill, and then thers the guys going 'dont waste rescorces!'

>>1877381
I know it's an apocalypse and ammo is "scarce" but come on. Have you looked at your inventory 10 hours into a Fallout game? Live a little. One frag grenade isn't going to up the noise level more appreciably than the usual sounds of combat. Especially muffled by all that meat.

>>1877384
I dont think anyones arguing whether to kill or not, just how at this point. the vote for the former has already been made.

>>1877384
I'm just trying to act remotely ic. A civil service robot has no reason to be so edgy, even after what's happened. I would have preferred if we just killed lady upfront and carried the unconscious lad to a dark room for ipolite questioning and mild ntimidation, but what's done is done.

>>1877384
>>1877391
Well, gee wizz, Anon, when you put it that way, I still think it's a dumbass idea!

Three living raiders shooting at us is worth a grenade. A raider in power armor is worth a grenade. Yao Guai eating a hunk of radstag with a surprise in it? Worth a grenade. Mirelurk grenade fishing? Worth a grenade.

One half dead raider is not worth a grenade.

>>1877412
You are vastly overestimating the value of a grenade anon. Shit's useless in practice, and the weight means it's not even worth the caps sometimes.

>>1877417
Dude drop it no one is backing you it's fucking dumb

>>1877417
not even a thread regular but a grenade in a world not producing grenades has value, i would say

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>>1877027
>>1877049
>>1877065
>>1877072
>>1877126
>>1877227

“What about other people on base? Anyone or anything especially dangerous? More importantly, any children or anyone who hasn’t gotten their hands dirty?”

The woman looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, then starts laughing.

“You’re fucking serious?” she demands. “You, that scrawny bitch, and what army are gonna go blowing over our entire base? We’ve got eighty trained killers on deck and at least half of ‘em can hit a fucking target. Hate to break this to you, sweety, but you’re gonna die.”

“-I- am a robot,” you inform the woman on the ground, “and compared to what I’ve lived through, your motley gang of children doesn’t intimidate me. I fought the Reds before this world was an irradiated shithole, and I’ll still be kicking around long after your gang and a dozen more like them have crumbled into dust.

“I’ve already said it, but I am a machine. I don’t sleep. I don’t eat. Radiation, poison, and bullets barely phase me. It’s only a matter of how many sleepless nights your watch can keep, how much blood you can spill on the frozen earth before you finally give in.

“So, I’ll say it one more time. Is there anything in that den of thieves worth saving? I don’t want to stain my hands with the blood of innocents.”

“Heh. A real, fucking model citizen, ain’t ya?” she snarks. “Worrying about this kind of shit after I’ve got both my arms blown to hell. Well, then, let me let you in on a little secret, sister.”

She drops her voice very low.

“Ain’t nobody, nobody in this world that’s innocent, honey. Ain’t nobody got clean hands, not me, not you, not your pissy little friend over there. We all just do what we gotta do until the last minute, until somebody else is on the wrong side of that trigger and we get too fucked up to keep on. Best you can hope for then is a clean death.

“So, go ahead. Pull the fuckin’ trigger and put me outta my misery. The last thing I want to hear going out of this world is your self-righteous preachin’ about savin’ the children.”

You sigh, harden your emotions, and in one quick, mechanical motion plunge your spike through her brain pan. She barely knew what was happening. Sandra, for her part, seems un-phased.

“Want me to take care of the other guy?” she asks, pulling out her pistol.

It’s bizarre in that moment as you read her facial expression. It’s just too casual, too nonchalant. There’s pain in her expression of course, a vague foreboding for the task, but nothing like the people from your own day and age.

Then you remember, Sandra killed at least three people before you met her, and God knows how many before that. The world had changed, and the hearts and minds of people with it. There wasn’t time for judge and jury anymore, no time for emotions in the heat of action. Perhaps that was a poison more insidious than the radiation.

>>1877417
>>1877417
I dunno, it probably would prove useful if we have to deal with more spider hives or large groupings of radcoons.

>>1877417
It's still 50 caps more then nothing. And that's even assuming we only sell it. Give it to Sandra if you're that much of a nutter to worry about 0.5 on your carrying weight.

>>1877412
Shit, I think I tagged you >>1877384 by mistake.

Sorry dude, but proper expenditure of explosives and bullets is my big thing.

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>>1877433

Well, I think I kind of opened a can of worms on this one, and I apologize for any strife this may have caused in the process. Generally, Sundays are my days I spend with friends, and so distractions were definitely slowing down my writing speed later in the evening.

In general, I think that having these sorts of ethical debates is interesting, and in-character. It is something that inherently invites controversy and feelings of conflict. Just remember that in the end, it is a game, and the goal is to have fun.

I hope you guys have had fun (despite all of the delays), and are looking forward to next thread. For now, though, I think that's all I've got. I have a busy day tomorrow, and I've kept the gorgon child people waiting an entire week because of stress and illness.

>>1877424
Starting to wonder if I'm voting for shoving the grenade down the wrong person's throat.

And while all that infighting was happening, SARA seriously went and asked if there were any non-combatants in a raider base. Seriously? Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer indeed.

Allow Sandra to take care of him. Remember
what Betty said: Taking their stuff only after they're dead is what separates you from the raiders.

>>1877456
It's not a stupid question considering for a good chunk of the post they were talking about how the raider captain keeps her/his blood close and wants to protect them. It's not improbable that there are or would be a few happy accidents running around, either from rape or inter-raider relations.

>>1877433
>“Want me to take care of the other guy?”
"Nah. Just strap him to the hood of the jeep, see about getting a bounty for him, too.

"Also, got something that can cut off a head? We might as well see if Beth's got a price on it."

>>1877474
We just drove a rod through her head, I doubt it's even remotely recognizable.

>>1877456
>SARA seriously went and asked if there were any non-combatants in a raider base. Seriously?

Yeah. Remember Fallout 4's Confidence Man quest? Vadim Boborov? Possible hostages, slaves, waylaid caravan drivers. There might be a couple of guys there. We should check in with the bounty board first, though, to see if there are hostages.

>>1877481
Hey, a mangled head is still worth half of the bounty. Just ask Major Dhatri.

>>1877481
Maybe it's nose-sized instead of fist-sized. We did go for penetration over raw force.

SARA was meant to be a regional management AI, so it would make sense for her to be given Martial Law and Civil Unrest Suppression Protocols, right? Wouldn't this enhanced interrogation procedure we used (threat of torture and being burnt alive) be part of that, given the extreme fanaticism of Pre-War America that we see throughout the Fallout games, specifically FO3, NV, and 4?

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>>1878313
>>1877493

The hole that was made by your instrument is roughly 1.5 inches in diameter, a comparable size to a golf ball. The head would likely be recognizable, though photographic evidence may be a cleaner way to present proof than bringing back a bloody head.

>>1877487
>>1877471
>>1877456

As these anons say, SARA is looking at this as a situation dealing with domestic terrorism. She wants to ensure that the minimum of civilians are harmed, which could include children or unaffiliated parties detained against their will.

>>1883013

As part of the fact that SARA is treating this as domestic terrorism, she is theoretically within her rights to treat any individual with known affiliation with the group as an enemy of the state in enacting either capital punishment or interrogatory methods.

It's worth noting, of course, that pain and fear of death are generally poor motivators to get someone to divulge accurate information. Rather, you want to supply them with some positive incentive for giving over what you want to know willingly.

Creating a counterbalance of hinting at allowing the captive to go free against the threat of gruesome punishment is within the allowable field interrogation methods of the extremely fucked up pre-war domestic peace keeper's handbooks. In that regard, SARA acted in accordance with what she believed would achieve the best positive results. However, it should be said again, torture is not generally an effective way of gathering in-depth, accurate intelligence.

SARA's protocols included how to exercise empathy and psychology for dealing with average citizens, day-to-day, and pretty much everything she knows in that regard runs counter to "enhanced interrogation methods."

Consider this a clutch decision whose merits were weighed according to the situation.

>>1883446
Of course. Beth had one arm torn off and the other damaged. The amount of blood loss and infection would have killed her even if we used all the stimpacks we had. Giving her a clean death as the incentive was simply the most efficient course of action.

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>>1883700

Fred bit through the armor on her forearm and down into the muscle beneath in fairly short order, in the process breaking both her ulna and radius. Her resulting struggle against Fred's pulling motions probably dislocated her shoulder, and getting the gun kicked from her hand broke three of her fingers.

After the fact, during interrogation, she suffered hairline fractures to the ribs near that shoulder socket from your grip, further bruising the muscle and deforming the cartilage. She also likely had bone damage on the side of her skull near the cheekbones for similar reasons.

Up until the time the spike plunged into her brain, she probably could have recovered. However, the consensus was that detaining or rehabilitating her would be too difficult.

>>1883719
Is that recovery with or without using up our stock of medical supplies?
Maybe the next raider will get a chance to be rehabilitated.

>>1883772

She could have healed naturally over time. She just would have needed a sling and a cast and a lot of r and r. The real question is whether you could have managed to get her to accept treatment let alone stay in one place for very long.

Obviously, the Lurkers wouldn't have wanted her back after she lost two men, their jeep, and a shitload of valuables after bitching her way out of something her higher up regarded as an important occupation.

>>1883799
Huh. The injuries were far less severe than I had originally thought.
Fred deserves a treat for restraint.

>>1883446
Keep in mind this is a government where executing Canadians was televised as propaganda about "them good ol' boys on the front" and where lethal weapons were equipped on everyday civil servant bots, including SARA's eyebots. The government would prefer an AI that obeyed orders over an AI that felt empathy.

>>1883719

New thread:
>>1887317