Fallout: After-Effect

12.29.2290 - Just Like Old Times

"When your past calls, don't answer. It has nothing new to say."

"Do you like Fat-Boys?" Nate asked.

"No idea what those are," Marshal said looking over at Nate. He's got a lot of pain, Marshal thought, and he doesn't even know it.

"Really? The Brotherhood at least let's you have sweets right?". Nate said, tossing him a box.

"No, the general says it affects our performance in the field," Marshal replied, tentatively gripping one of the spongey sweets.

"Strange, I knew a woman, name was Victoria, and she was a member of the Brotherhood, but she always had sweets." Nate contemplated as he chewed on a Fat-Boy.

"Well, the general says we are the new world Brotherhood. We are here to replace the corruption of the old ways of the Brotherhood.". Marshal said still eyeing the pastry in his hand.

"Sounds like a harsh old man," Nate laughed, spitting crumbs.

"He is scary, but I know he's a good man at heart," Marshal said, his thoughts obviously elsewhere.

Nate's demeanor changed as he put his hand on Marshal's back and began pushing down," get down," Nate hissed.

"What?" Marshal said questioning Nate's actions.

"Now!" Nate shouted pushing him to the ground as he drew his pistol. *Crinkgrrring*. The ground next to Marshal exploded in a cloud of dust as a bullet passed by, barely missing him.

"The frak!" Marshal yelled, scrambling for cover.

"Damn, natives. Lyle, I mean Marshal, in the bag is an Anti-Matter rifle. Give it to me.". Finding the massive rifle Marshal handed it over to Nate. Loading a round into the chamber of the gun Nate raised his Pip-Boy to his face and tapped the buttons that initiated V.A.T.S. The experience never got old, the euphoric sensation of time slowing and the exhilaration of finding the best kill shot all amounted to an experience that Nate never got over. Catching sight of an 87% headshot Nate focused and pulled the trigger. *Bwush* The head exploded.

Turning to Marshal, who looked like he had seen a ghost, Nate handed him his 10mm pistol. "C'mon, let's go kill some crazed Native Americans."

Marshal could only nod as Nate stood up and fired off round after round from his gigantic rifle. Not wanting to miss the chance to test his training, Marshal jumped up and ran towards the fray.

Four minutes later fourteen Native Americans lay strewn about the dusty wasteland as they slept in their final resting places...

"That was awesome!" Marshal exclaimed, punching his fist in the air.

Grinning Nate slugged him in the arm, "Haha, what you've never been in a fight before?"

"No, only training and I'm glad my first real fight was with you. You seem to have a lot of experience." Marshal said, a newfound curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah, well the NCR actually puts their new recruits into battle. Plus, my brother and I used to survive out here in our own.". Nate said reminiscing.

"So this is kind of like old times for you?" Marshal asked, glad to see the harsh exterior melting away.

"Yeah, haha. I guess it's just like old times." Nate smiled, draping his arm over Marshal he guided them into the setting sun of the desert...