Fallout: After-Effect

12.24.2290 - Merry Christmas

"And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time." - Jesus Christ

Nate didn't regret his decision for a moment. This heart-pounding chase across the desert would lead him to the answers he needed. Pumping his legs he willed himself to catch up to the terrified paladin that ran from him. Planting his feet in the sandy ground he grinder to a stop. Reaching behind his shoulder he drew the tranquilizer gun from his back. Taking a breath he touched the Pip-Boy on his arm. Before he knew it time slowed down. He had activated V.A.T.S. He wasn't aiming to kill so he focused on the torso and pulled the trigger. Like a Symphony, Space and Time danced together bringing the dart towards its target.

Time resumed for Nate like a weight falling back on his shoulders. "Gotcha," he grinned...

Hoisting the man up by his shoulders Nate eyed him up and down. A scrawny kid, he couldn't have been older than 16. Even though he wasn't wearing the tell-tale power armor Nate knew he was a Paladin because of the insignia on the right shoulder of his shirt. Tying his hands together, Nate attached the boy to his pack and started dragging him back to the NCR encampment...

Smack. The sound of Nate's hand hitting flesh never satisfied him enough. "You're going to tell me where the last Brotherhood of Steel stronghold is or I will personally deliver your body to the gates of hell," Nate breathed in his prisoner's ear. The young Paladin's head hung facing the ground until Nate grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "I'm going to give you one more chance, OK?". Gripping the brass knuckles tighter in his hands, Nate pulled his arm back to deliver another blow to the stomach when the prisoner moaned. "Now, you want to talk?" Nate hissed.

"Soldier!". In surprise Nate stood up and turned to attention.

"Captain!" Nate saluted his superior officer.

"The hell are you doing?" The captain growled, looking even more worn then the last time Nate had seen him. Grabbing Nate by the arm he led him out of the interrogation tent and into the cold night. "Do you know what day it is?" He stared sternly into Nate's eyes.

"Christmas Eve sir," Nate replied, not sure as to what the Captain was going for.

"So why do we have a frigging prisoner?!"

"He has intel on the BOS," Nate said grimly.

"I don't give a RadRoach's ass if he does even if killing him would fix the wasteland it's Christmas. Nobody deserves to be beaten and bloodied on this day of love and giving. So you're going to apologize to that BOY!" Spinning Nate around he pushed him into the tent.

Walking up to the almost lifeless figure slumped over in a chair Nate started untieing the bonds that held him in place. Groaning the boy turned around, his cracked lips barely uttering a sound. Reaching to his belt Nate pressed his canteen against the boy's lips. "Drink."

After getting a few gulps in the boy could speak. "Why are you doing this?" He croaked.

"Merry Christmas," he said standing up after finishing untieing the boy.

"I'm free to go?"

"To walk around camp, just don't leave or the perimeter guards won't use tranquilizer darts."

"Thank you sir. I won't forget this. Merry Christmas. I'm Marshall by the way," Marshall said, shaking Nate's hand.

"Just watch out for yourself," Nate said brushing past Marshal, heading for his personal tent.

15 MINUTES LATER

With his head in the palms of his hands Nate hoped for that things could get better. Startled he felt a hand tap his shoulder. Turning around he saw the Brotherhood of Steel boy from earlier. "What do you want?" Nate barked, a little more sharply then he had intended.

"To tell you that your brother isn't dead, and to give you this," he said pulling out a book from under his jacket.

Gingerly Nate took the book from the boy's hands, "Thank you," he said as the boy nodded and left the tent. Looking at the gold lettering on the front of the black brittle book, Nate realized what it was. It was a Bible. The same Bible that Lyle always carried with him after their mother died. Opening the gold inlaid pages he turned to the Christmas story of how a savior was born and he read. And he read and read. Then for the first time in almost five years he cried...