You sigh, and figure...you might as well be honest to these kids. These...weird, messed up, edge world kids. Some or perhaps most of which may be older than you.
"Listen," you say, rubbing the back of your neck. "I won't lie to you all. I'm new. But I've been well trained and I know, more than a lot of people, that the best way to learn is to listen. You've all been out here longer than me, so if you see something, say something. We work together, we all get home alive. Sounds good?"
Fast Driver immediately thrust a clawed hand into the air, her feathers at attention.
You give her a nod.
"Should I say something about
everything I see?" she asked.
"No, just...when I make a mistake," you say.
"OH! Oh, okay, yes, got it!" She nodded. "Well, you
haven't made a mistake in trusting us, sir!"
You give her a wry little smile. "Glad to hear it."
---
With your tank squared away, you then had two more tank crews to check in on. The only problem was that you had no idea where they were in the confusion of the pre-operation organization.
You were theoretically leading a pair of M2 Dumonts and two half-tracks full of infantry, which would make up your entire tank platoon… at least, before you got the word you were
also leading a bunch of fucking jarheads. But where were they? When you looked up and down the rows, all you saw were Ollies, like your tank, M7s, and a few of the truly ancient M5 Heavies somebody dug out of
somewhere, the ones with like five turrets bristling in all directions.
Ugh. You switched on the radio and started cycling through channels, hoping for some insight.
"This is Big Iron Actual, we're still low on WP shells, does anyone know where-"
Flick.
"-Easy Living-2 here, we got five cykes out here with spears, I think they-
Flick.
"-avaro, repeat, Navarro Base, we need those verti-"
You sigh, turning off the feed for the moment. The radio net is a fucking disaster, too many units on every channel talking over each other. You suppose it's just a byproduct of trying to organize a million men on such short notice. A rumbling sound draws your attention and when you turn, you see that some fortune has smiled on you today: Two M2s are rolling right past you, with their commanders waving.
You remember back when the M2 had looked like the most sophisticated, advanced non-pre-war thing you had ever seen in your life when it rolled past in the Vault Dweller Day parades. Next to the Ollies that you were commanding now, they looked like either a toy or a bad joke. The commanders could barely fit in the turrets and they only had enough room for the driver in the front, sticking their head out the two-piece hatch. You tried to imagine being crammed down in that boxy little hull and just...winced.
You wave back and both of the tanks come to a halt, and the commanders come crawling out and the front hatches fully open so their drivers could breathe. Fully unbuttoned, the tanks look like somebody had peeled it apart with a can opener, given how big proportionally the hatches were compared to the tanks themselves. The crew could still barely fit out.
You gave both Sergeants a salute, and then held out your hand. "Lieutenant Alderesh Yang, from the Hub." You hoped your name and home city would head off any confusion about whether or not you're Shi. The first of them took your hand - a strong, tough looking man with skin like a nut: Wrinkled and weather beaten and old before his time, his eyes are storm gray and he has a crow tattoo on his cheek. The other shakes after, and she's taller than you, broad shouldered, and young enough for you to have to repress a wince. She's got a black leather jacket over her uniform and short black hair absolutely slathered with grease.
"I'm Baalaji," the older Sergeant said, gesturing to his tank. "That's my tank, the Mighty Mighty Man, and Private Iron Moth driving." Private Iron Moth was a skinny little tribal who was hutched over in his hatch, clearly half-asleep.
"I'm Aubery Angel, Corporal," the younger one said. She slapped the side of her tank, where someone had drawn a woman spread-eagle over a suit of T-51 power armor as if cradling a lover. The helmet of the power armor has popped off, showing that the owner is also a woman. "And this is a Lil' Mo Action."
"Glad to meet you two," you say, then point at the Mighty Mighty Man. "Is that a machine gun?"
The main cannon of the Mighty Mighty Man is not a cannon. It is a machine gun.
"Yeah, the M2s are either or, not both," Bhavna said, his voice dry. "The cannon ones used to be the liability, to be fair."
"It's all coming up Aubrey," Aubrey said, with a huge grin.
"Honey, shut up." That voice came from the Lil' More Action, in an accent you'd never heard before in your life. Craning your head, you see a woman with long, dyed blue hair, smoking a cigarette as she lounges in the tank. Her uniform is definitely not regulation.
"Honey?" you ask, glancing at Aubrey, who coughs and mutters something about AR 600-20.
"Well, uh, anyway, it'll be good to have an Ollie soaking up all the cannon shots again." she said nervously. "We'll stop a rifle round, mostly, from the front, but some of their bigger stuff goes straight through us, so having somebody draw fire's nice."
"That's what we do!" Drives Fast calls out, cheerfully, while beside her, Mask gives a mute thumbs up.
Baalaji shudders, then leans in, whispering. "If...you need a new loader, I know a guy in Replacements-"
"No, we're good," you say, immediately. "Now, I've been told I've also got an infantry squad under my command?"
"They should be right behind us," Baalaji said, and just as he predicted, one of the "half-tracks" rattled up. Not even half-tracks. Those were two flatbed jeeps with some extra armor plating bolted onto the back, a machine gun post hanging off them both. Right, the big truck plant in Necropolis had got blown up last year.
The infantry inside are all NCRAF standard issue - brown uniforms, service rifles, tough looking, with a lot of gear that they have packed into the duffels. They all have the badly shaved look of people who haven't been away from the Front for long. Their leader, a hard-faced looking woman who looked like she's been through hell and a half in the last three years, steps out with a sharp salute.
"Lieutenant," she said. "Sergeant Christina Morales, 26th Infantry Regiment. I understand we're your infantry detachment?"
"As best I know. 26th… were you at Hoover Dam?" you asked, regretting it as the words left your mouth. She scowled, unsurprising.
"Unfortunately, I was hit and evacuated that morning," she said, with a tone that indicated that if she
hadn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation.
"Sorry, sore spot, I understand," you responded. "Have you done this sort of work before?"
"No, but I understand the basics. We'll be keeping the Legion infantry away," she said. "Not surprising, they're fucking psychos. They have explosive spears and magmines, get in your blind spot."
"So you protect us from their assault troops, we protect you from their guns?" you summarized.
"That's the idea. No man left behind," she said, with absolute conviction.
You dismissed her and stepped toward the trucks, where soldiers were piling out with their gear. They were just simple little brown-painted light six wheelers, each with a light machine gun clipped onto the front of the sheet metal crew compartment. The driver sat alone in the cab up front, staring out small vision hatch to the front and sides.
You stepped around the side of one to the troops laying their equipment out, and then heard an absolute enormous voice coming from the truck bed behind you.
"Youuuu son of a bitch!"
You turn and see a hulking form swinging off the side of the truck that faced away from you. For a moment, silhouetted by the sun, you get nothing but the sensation of immense size. Then a massive supermutant is bearing down on you - and you have just enough time to lift up your hand before Arnold Brick grabbed onto your hand and squeezed so hard that you nearly felt your knuckles pop. You grit your teeth, then grin and squeeze back as Arnold beams down at you.
"Brick!" you say.
"Corporal Brick!" he exclaimed, then noticed your rank pins. "Uh, sir!"
"Shut up! I haven't seen you since you got fired-"
"For fucking the boss' wife?" He asks, then laughs as you shove his hand away, subtly rubbing your own hand to get feeling back again.
"I seem to remember it differently," you say. "Also, what have they got you doing out here, pushing pencils, you didn't even manage to fracture my hand."
"They taught me to play nice with the normies," Brick said, slapping your shoulder. "And you're in
tanking now?" He whistled. "I thought that the war would have to be at the Hub's doorstep before they'd get you away from Fen and Browny."
"I, uh, volunteered," you said, wincing. You weren't going to sit by and let a second home get overrun.
"You what? Who's taking care of the kids?"
You look aside. "They're with Marie's mom, Getrude. Remember her?"
"Yeah, met her at the funeral," Brick said, his lips turning down for a moment. You share a moment's silence, remembering how you three had all met, at the mutant's rights rally, and your first ever sight of her had been her throwing a brick into the face of a No Mutant's Allowed dipshit.
"Yeah…" you say. "Uh, they also got your buddy helping, so it's not just her alone-"
"That old coot?" Brick asks. "He has a tree growing out of his head!"
"He does trim it now," you say, and Brick bursts out laughing, then drags you over towards the jeeps, gesturing with his hand.
"Well, good, good, good!" He says. "Now, I want you to meet my team of absolute, total fucking murderous badasses. We've been here from the Mojave to the Necropolis and we've got a thousand Legion skulls to show for it." His grin grows wide. "Every last one of them, fit to be
fuckin dipped!"
"Fuck you, Corporal!" One of the women called from the truck, her medics insignia dimmed and barely painted - a precaution because the Legion would do...
real bad things to medics if they knew you were one. "I like my tits too much!"
You peek in.
---
Big Equipment Plan Vote Time!!!
What do you got? You have one medic and 9 trained guards, which leaves you with 10 dollars to spend on gear. Each squad member can carry one main gun, one sidearm, three grenades, and special gear - heavy weapons work like heavy weapons, you know how it is.
Script Gear (all free, so anyone who doesn't carry other things will have these by default. The vote allows you to choose what mix they have.)
[ ] M270 Hunting Rifle, Emergency Issue (Hits: 1, Damage: 2 , AP: 1, Range: Extreme, Manual)
[ ] M7 NCR Service Shotgun, Sawn off (Hits: 1 , Damage: 1d5-1, AP: 0, Range: Knife, +1 hit in melee, -2 damage at close, useless beyond, one handed, reload 1)
[ ] M2 NCR Service Revolver (Hits 1, Damage: 1, AP: 0, Range: Knife, One Handed)
[ ] M8 Hand Grenade (Hits 5, Damage 1, AP 0, Range Knife, Burst)
[ ] Dynamite Stick (Hits 1d5+1, Damage 1, AP 0, Range Knife. Burst, One-Handed, Holstered, Unreliable)
[ ] Bundle of Dynamite (Hits 2, Damage 9, AP2, Range Knife, Burst, -5 vs Infantry, does 5 Damage even if it fails to penetrate vehicle armour)
[ ] Bayonets
1 Dollar Gear
[ ] For 2 M15 NCR Service Rifle, Standard Issue (Hits: 2, Damage: 2 , AP: 1, Range: Long, Unreliable)
[ ] 9mm NCR Service Pistol (Hits: 2, Damage: 1, AP: 0, Range: Knife, One-Handed)
[ ] Grenade Satchel (hold 3, spend 1 hold to retrieve any script costing grenade)
[ ] Three Old World LAWs, Light Antitank Weapons (Hits: 1, Damage: 1d10, AP: 3, Range: Close, Burst, One Shot Only)
2 Dollar Gear
[ ] Rifle Grenade Adapters (can be attached to "throw" grenades out to close range)
[ ] Winchester City-Killer combat shotgun (Hits: 2, Damage: 1d5, AP: 0, Range: Knife, Manual, reload 3)
[ ] 10mm H&K Submachine Gun (Hits: 3 (4), Damage: 1, AP: 0, Range: Close, rapid fire, reload 2, unreliable)
[ ] Istvan Assault Light Machine Gun (Hits: 3 (4), Damage: 2 | AP: 1 | Range: Long, rapid fire, reload 3)
2 Dollar Gear, Brick Only (other people will break their arms)
[ ] 12.7 mm blowback Submachine Gun "firing port weapon" (Hits: 4, Damage: 2, AP: 1, Range: Knife, Holstered, Unreliable, Rapid Fire (only.)
[ ] Zeppelin Shotgun (Hits: 2, Damage: 1d5-1, AP: 0, Range: Knife, manual, unreliable, reload 1, at close range or further, burst 1 and -1 hit. Can be fired as many times as Brick wants. He's a supermutant. Fuck you.)
[ ] Super Sledgehammer (Hit: 1, Damage: 6, AP: 3, Melee)
3 Dollar Gear
[ ] M270 Marksman Rifle with Scope (Hits 1, Damage 2, AP1, Range Extreme. Manual, bonus in Ambush)
4 Dollar Gear
[ ] PGM Hécate II Anti-Material Rifle (Hits: 1, Damage: 5, AP: 2, Range: Extreme, Manual)
[ ] Imported Chinese Assault Rifle (Hits: 2(3), Damage: 1, AP: 1, Range: Long, Rapid Fire, Unreliable, +1 Hits at Knife range)
5 Dollar Gear
[ ] A Rockwell BigBazooka, comes with HE and AP Rockets (AP | Hits: 1, Damage: 30, AP: 3, Range: Close, | HE | Hits: 6, Damage: 2, AP: 0, Range: Long | Reload 1, Braced, HE shells have burst)
Additionally, what special modifications do you have on your tank? Choose 2 for your tank, and one each for Mighty Might Man and 'Lil Mo Action.
[ ] Piles of Sandbags & Spare Tracks (Increases crew resistance to Suppression. -2 engine Reliability)
[ ] Tribal Armour (Prevents magnetic mines from sticking. -1 to Escape rolls)
[ ] Air Conditioner (Makes the heat in the tank more bearable, increasing endurance. Man, driving this tank makes you wish for a nuclear winter)
[ ] Dozer Blades & Wire Cutters (Reduces Speed, but makes it easier to cross obstacles and can be used to make cover for the tank, and clears barbed wire more completely.)
[ ] Searchlight (Makes night fighting a lot easier)
[ ] Red Glare Missile Rail (One shot. Highly effective against tanks and aircraft)
[ ] Pintle Mounted Machine Gun (Gives you a machine gun attached to your hatch)
[ ] Smokescreen Launcher (Single-shot smokescreen on demand)
