Chapitre 248: Fallout: New Eden (Fallout/Far Cry Crossover) SI by Alternative NonFiction
Words: 23k+
Links: -https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/fallout-new-eden-fallout-far-cry-crossover-si.895042/#post-71659942
-https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13737643/1/Fallout-New-Eden
( Synopsis: A man with only fragmented memories of a another world through other lives scrambles to prepare for the bombs.
A troubled man with only fragmented memories of another world through other lives scrambles to prepare for the bombs as the pre war world hurls towards armaggedon; by forming a cult. SI (sort of) )
Prologue
"Welcome to Mineral County, you know what that means." The older man warned, in a tired voice that was to say the least lacking in zeal.
The speaker was Captain Earl Whitehorse of the Northern Commonwealth Highway Patrol and the local with the most seniority on this bus. He was also a walrus of a man with a large frame (but still mostly in shape) fat jowls, and one hell of a Walrus mustache.
"What's it supposed to mean?" Assistant Special Agent in Charge Louis Roy III (or three sticks as he was better known) asked the captain. Roy had the supervisory capacity for this operation.
"Means we're in Peggie Country now."
Special Agent Jeremy Rook looked out the window at the passing scenery as if expecting to find something different in the scenery that gave voice to the unease of captain Whitehorse. There was no immediate difference as far as he could see. Just a river snaking around the winding interstate and heavily wooded mountains on all sides. Or was that it?
Missoula had five wide open valleys under the Big Sky, but here the terrain was rougher, the valleys much narrower. This country did seem easier to defend against outsiders. Outsiders like himself.
He looked down at the pip boy strapped to his wrist. By the position on the map that they were passing through Alberton (a town he could not see on his side of the bus) and maybe a third of the way to New Eden. He couldn't quite say how long though. The highways here were not as quick as they looked on the maps.
"How much longer then?" Someone asked the captain.
"Better part of an hour. Long enough for you feds to change your minds and turn back."
"And be treasonous enough to ignore a federal warrant?" That could only be Flagg from the Office of Political affairs, an ill tempered asshole like most of his department were considered to be. Black sheep who made OPR likable.
Flagg was a Former Naval Intelligence officer from Texas, who took to his job with an enthusiasm that for some reason just bothered him.
"No sir. I'm trying to pound into your skull the reality of what you're dealing with. These aren't a bunch of defenseless college interns you can round up without fear of safety. Men like Joseph Seed are not to be fucked with. We thought they were pretty nice 15 or so years ago when he and his Orchard people started coming in. Now they have an iron grip on pretty much every aspect of the county, almost like they've been expecting somebody trying to take it all from them. Probably better to leave well enough alone."
He could hear the political agent scoff. "We have laws for a reason and even men like Joseph Seed must answer to them."
"In my experience, special agent, the pursuit of justice out here does a lot more harm than good."
"Justice isn't free," replied Vescovo, another of his peers sent to this corner on the edge of the Northern Commonwealth. "The cost might be high, but the cost of not chasing it is even higher. Especially now."
Senior special agent Benny Vescovo was the longest serving member of the bureau on this bus with about 15 years of service under his belt. He was getting old, but he was still and probably would always be a raging bull of a human being.
The trooper just chuckled. "I would have said the same thing ten years ago. Thing is, there's few things more destructive than a man who can face what we face and be truly just."
Before any replies could be made the captain raised a hand and turned towards the driver.
"Pratt, could put me through with dispatch?"
Rook tuned out the ongoing conversation and contemplated the situation.
It was a Saturday evening and there was only one place Joseph Seed would be; Preaching from the campus of Eden's Gate in New Eden. Possibly with at least a few other high profile suspects.
Though he was new to the bureau's office in Salt Lake City, (and the bureau in general) he had heard plenty of stories about the city back there from current and former employees of other subsidiaries of Orchard. Orchard was the name of the private equity group that held together the many strange ventures of Joseph Seed.
A decade or so ago, Joseph Seed was considered one of the brightest minds in America. He had revolutionized the world of electronics with the introduction of semiconductors that were now in everything from fighter jets, to a Mr Handy, to the pip-boy on his wrist.
He was a founding father of what was dubbed the silicon revolution, an achievement that by itself was worth billions. Billions, that he had used to invest in new industries made possible by his work. Solar power, terminal networks, satellite television, and most controversial to the bureau, mobile phones were things largely attributed to efforts of Orchard and its many subsidiaries.
Seed had become a religious fanatic over the years and in 2062 founded Eden's Gate Ministries which was a religious movement or a corporation depending on who you asked. Either way, it had behaved without regard for federal law and had shown willingness to wage war on those who enforced it.
The voice of dispatch cracked through the speakers on the bus.
"We're in Mineral county now, over." The captain replied to the dispatch with just a bit of dread.
"They still going through with this?" he could hear the woman's voice this time. As if the locals thought this would actually be called off.
"We are, I'm afraid. Can't talk any sense into our friends from Salt Lake."
There was a brief pause on the other end before she replied.
"I'll coordinate with the guard in case the worst happens. Let me know if you run into anything you can't handle."
"That I will Nancy, over and out." The captain's voice at the end made a gruff note, the man almost looked incapable of giving.
He could feel a sense of dread overcome his very being as the bus went further down that highway. It was an uncommon feeling but a familiar one. One that screamed "deep shit" ahead.
Jeremy Rook closed his eyes and felt his heartbeat start to run away. He calmly took a series of deep even breaths until it went and he felt mostly normal again.
His right slid down to stroke the holster on his ten. It felt safe and just a little reassuring. His eyes opened and took another look out the window.
Past the thin curtain of trees, he could see across the river. The map on his pip-boy suggested that there were a few houses and the railroad in this area. There were many things that someone could hide here in this corner of America, especially when you weren't sure what to look for.
One turn of the bend and the trees across the river gave way to steep hillside and a railroad embankment. Along its tracks he got a good view of a Montana Pacific train headed east for Missoula. At it's head was one of those hybrid electric locomotives painted in the Green and Purple scheme of the line.
The railroad which went straight through Mineral County held immense value to the war effort. The Huckleberry Road as it was known was not the busiest route into the Northwest, but it was certainly the quickest, which had often made it the favored route for military trains.
Although the situation was less dire with the Chinese pushed out of Alaska, any disruption of the line could easily have serious far reaching consequences.
Even with fusion cars entering the highways in greater numbers and becoming commonplace, the railroads were pressed to carry the economy in a way they hadn't for a couple centuries.
The price of oil had climbed steeply in his lifetime. Gone were the days of cheap gas for under ten per gallon. As the supply tightened and prices hiked, the economy stagnated.
Many towns dependent on the interstate system for shipping and passing tourists died slow painful deaths. Even in cities connected well enough to adjust, the impact was felt everywhere from the shelves of your super duper mart to your Poseidon Electric bill.
Montana Pacific was one of several major railways to emerge in this time with the goal of connecting otherwise isolated communities, while easing the burden on larger more established lines. Maybe a quarter of all westbound freight in the Northern Commonwealth went through here during the Anchorage campaign.
Unfortunately, the company was private and a subsidiary of Orchard which was largely operated by those affiliated with Eden's Gate, and financed with the fortunes of the Seed Family and their barely legal equity firm.
Swift action would be needed after tonight to ensure the trains kept running. Agents from other offices would be coming in on red eye flights while the guard was deployed along the line to prevent acts of sabotage. It didn't seem to occur to Eden's Gate that there was a war going on.
The scope of what needed protecting was not determined as far as he knew. There were many tunnels and bridges between Missoula and Spokane that could be blown if Joseph Seed had a contingency plan for all out war with the United States.
Back East, the "succession" of the Free States movement in the Shenandoah Valley was fresh on the minds of the brass. What started as a fringe movement of survivalist rednecks, had over the last year become increasingly hostile to their neighbors and local law enforcement. Things came to a head last month when the DA for the Northern District of Appalachia (NDA) issued a long list of indictments against the leaders of the Free State Movement.
The response of the movement was to hunker down in bunkers strung across the valley. They called themselves Free Staters and Secessionists. He called them traitors and glorified outlaws.
Though they were above the reach of the law for now, the Eastern Commonwealth he had heard planned to send in the guard once the army rotated out more manpower to the home front. With so many Guardsmen called up and deployed, the Homefront never had enough men on hand to deal with the automation riots let alone terrorists. In a few months time if all went well, the Eastern Army National Guard would root them out and squash them like communists.
He had been briefed on the current state of Eden's Gate alongside agents who had been in Harper's Ferry over the summer. The looks he'd seen on their faces suggested that Eden's Gate might not be content to hide out in fortified bunkers.
Those hicks in West Virginia had stocked their bunkers in preparation for the day when they were on the opposite side of the law. Things were different over here. While the cult was well stocked in places it judged secure, the word they had from bureau informants and members of the Northern Commonwealth Highway Patrol, strongly suggested that Eden's Gate had too much in the open to just hide while they pulled back the curtain that Eden's Gate was putting up over this part of America.
Though other forms of intelligence gathering were used or at least attempted, it was human intelligence where most of their reliable information came from. Eyes on the ground seemed to best capture the essence of what was happening along the roads of Mineral County and surrounding jurisdictions.
Though there was no hard proof, it was also dangerous. Two informants had disappeared in August, and weeks ago, a patrolman was determined to have committed suicide. This time, the body was mistakenly cremated before any expert besides the Mineral County Coroner's Office could have a look.
It wasn't just that the cult had too much to squirrel away into a hole in the ground. They were much more territorial and were much more willing to go to great lengths to keep their grip. Not only that, but they had plenty of local institutions to help cover their tracks.
There was a reason they had not approached the local Sheriff's office in Superior for assistance. The county sheriff like other elected positions were firmly controlled by the cult. Local law enforcement would get probed soon enough. Hopefully right after ministry offices were raided. God willing, many traitors would be found and rooted out within the week.
The interstate continued to snake its way along the valley hopping across the fork again and again. It was not long before they came within sight of the county seat at Superior. With it, he could feel a shift in the air around him.
The atmosphere which had seemed subtly hostile, now seemed to brandish naked aggression against people like him the further west they got. From symbols on buildings, to billboards to a strange black on pale green flag with the logo of the cult, The presence of Eden's gate was here for all to see.
It wasn't just him either. Rook could see the growing discomfort from other agents. Their expressions varied from sneering to paranoid. Others like Whitehorse, who were more used to Mineral county simply sighed and asked to radio dispatch.
"We're about fifteen minutes out," he told dispatch. "Just went through Superior. If I don't check in sometime in the next half hour, tell the guard to hurry."
"Yes captain," The dispatch's slightly garbled voice came over the air.
"Have the others reported in?"
"They have, ETA for all other cars, is 10 to 30 minutes."
"Good," he grunted in approval. "I'll radio you when we get off the freeway. Ten-four."
As if on cue, he looked down at the pip-boy. And reached for the radio, twisted the tune dial.
"In other news, The Eastern Commonwealth is reeling from another earthquake. The current death toll is at three people. In the town of Welch in Appalachia where the Earthquake has hit hardest, residents have been exposed to radioactive materials from a nearby mineshaft formerly operated by Atomic Mining Services. The company released a statement affirming the earthquake as naturally occurring and denied any wrongdoing. They have also promised to spare no expense in removing any radioactive hazards from the town residents."
Jeremy sighed. This was the worst possible time for something like this. Communist agitators would undoubtedly be using this opportunity to drive tensions between the mining companies and the nearby communities.
The backwoods were full of tinfoil wearing idiots who were convinced the Federal Government and private industry were conspiring to nab them in their sleep. They were easy marks for Chinese propaganda and useful idiots for undercutting the war effort.
Many of them had already had dreams of returning to the time of FDR, when the American economy was at its closest to modern socialism.
He turned the dial again as the news went to commercials. This time he heard a voice he immediately recognized from the briefings
"You can feel it can't you? Everywhere we look, we see the signs of a civilization on the verge of it's final judgment. And there will be a reckoning, for we passed the point of return long ago. This is why we started this project. We started it because we understand what happens next."
The voice of Joseph Seed he had to admit had a magnetic quality to it. Something that made the listener hang on to every word.
"We are in a society that makes war on everything the word of God stands far. Evil is good, and good has become evil. It was not enough that our greed was called progress. It had to be dressed up as some, some fruit of the spirit sanctioned by the bible and wrapped in an American flag."
He could see a few eyes on the bus looking towards his direction with curious glances as the sermon went on. Jeremy adjusted his arm so the others could hear better.
"That is what you are seeing as they come for us. They try to take our freedoms in the name of fighting for them. They try to take our faith in the name of preserving a Christian nation. And for what?"
"What profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul? What about a culture, a people? If America wins the resource wars what then? Do the commonwealths bicker over what we can extract from Canada? We will become just what Europe has become fighting over the ashes of the things we destroyed."
"There is no outcome in which they do not turn on us, nor one where God will not pour the wrath of his judgment on this world. The Doomsday clock as atomic scientists call it, is set only 30 seconds from the edge. Our final tribulation is coming. It will be short but it will be brutal when God gives the beasts of the Earth authority over our people."
You bet your fucking ass we are coming for you. You and your followers. A feeling of gloating triumph came over him. He pumped his fist while he heard a grunt or two in approval.
Not everybody felt the same way. Captain Whitehorse looked on with an expression of resignation. It wasn't just him, other troopers on the bus seemed very uncomfortable.
After a quiet pause, the radio seemed to roar back to life
"But are we to accept their mark?!"
"Of course not," he answered to his audience, not waiting for them to answer. "Just as the forces of darkness must subdue us, we must fight them."
"Switch that off will you." Agent Flagg asked, in a way that sounded more like a command. "You've read that man's indictment."
"Oh, come on Flagg," rasped the voice of Vescovo. "Rook here wanted to see what was on our subjects mind. No harm in that."
"He's subverted enough of America, old man. His voice shouldn't be heard here until he enters this bus in handcuffs. Shut off the goddamn radio."
Jeremy rolled his eyes and shut off the radio. OPA agents were not the sort to allow annoyances to slide.
Captain Whitehorse looked at him for a moment then cleared his throat.
"Trust me Feds. When he gets put on this bus, you'll wish he'd shut up."
That earned a couple of laughs
He then coughed in a way meant to kill the moment. "That is assuming of course, things go our way. That doesn't always happen though."
"This time you will have federal agents at your back, captain." For the first time, since entering the county, Special Agent Jack Ritter spoke up. "If things don't go our way captain, They will wish that they did."
"You take your position for granted. Federal agents are not automatically afforded respect out here."
"They will when the guard comes over from Kalisbel," retorted Ritter "Those sovereign citizen fucks understand force well enough."
"Ok Fed," Whitehorse responded curtly as if to say he was too tired to argue.
The highway snaked across the river one more time before they came upon New Eden. Against the sunset, he could see the sinister black outline of the campus palisade. As they approached, a Commonwealth Highway Patrol car rolled up and challenged the uniformed sentry. A fucking uniform
The toy soldier allowed them to pass after a few moments. As they started moving he could see another car pull up behind the bus. As they approached the plaza in the heart of the campus where the church was where they knew the Seeds would be, he could feel more eyes on the bus.
The bus came to a halt and the door sprang open. All agents aboard stood and steadily filed out of the bus.
"No sudden movements, these folks spook easily." Whitehorse had warned them. Outside a few armed men challenged them.
"Stay calm and go about your business fellows. This doesn't concern you." They gave way as the captain spoke in a voice that was louder than he seemed capable of.
"Jesus!" He heard Ritter complain. "you've got a badge captain."
"They don't respect no stinkin' badges out here," Louis Roy responded, with a trace of humor.
"I'm sure they'll respect a free cattle train ride," Special Agent Flagg grinned wryly.
ASAC Roy and Captain Whitehorse silenced the political affairs agent with a glare, then motioned for the double doors of the church.
The church was an interesting building. Three stories tall and built like a castle, it looked meant for siege. One brought on by people like him. Yet here they were just walking straight in. He could hear them sing Amazing Grace through the doors when they were pulled open. It died a quick death as they poured in through the doors.
"There they are, they have come," Joseph Seed told his congregation without betraying emotion. "Like locusts in the garden, here to eat all we have built."
Joseph Seed was tall and imposing at his pulpit. He was dressed in a dark single breasted suit with generous embroidery. His trademark yellow shades and man bun were exactly what Rook expected.
What he had not expected was the aura of this man. There was a presence he could feel as he approached, that he couldn't quite describe. It was holy in a sense, yet unholy at the same time and it made the hairs on his neck stand.
Flagg moved himself to the front of the procession and produced the warrant. "Joseph Seed, I have a warrant issued for your arrest. Now please step forward."
A thin line of cult soldiers materialized around the stage with shotguns at the ready, some of them wearing armor. Shouting erupted in the from both sides of the main aisle reverberated throughout the nave.
When it seemed violence was inevitable though, Joseph Seed waved his followers to stand down. "We knew this moment would come, when God gave the beasts the authority they crave. Go, my children we have prepared for this. Just as he has done this, I commit myself to the hands of God. The white horse and his rider have come." He then slipped through to where he was motioned.
Rook was ordered to step forward to meet him and slap the cuffs on him. This he did.
Slowly but surely, they turned around and made for the entrance. A pair of troopers were at the door trying to keep it open while keeping the congregation inside. As they struggled, the journey felt longer with every passing step. The hostility in the room grew and started hemming them in from behind. Guns seemed to sprout up from everywhere. It almost felt like they were backing away as they came closer.
But every step was a victory. The bus they would put him on was parked on the edge of the central plaza no more than a hundred yards away.
They made it through the door and into the evening. Outside they were greeted by others filing in to flank them. He could see men in BDUs and ski masks among the ranks ready to attack. He heard threats in the air meant for them mixed in with pleas to release their daddy and turn back. Halfway there, they heard the rumble coming from the route they took here.
They've come, his spirit soared, they came just when needed. The headlights of the lead vehicle came into view. Not even thin red streaks of light dancing across the plaza could scare him now. The motorcade of four staggered formation then stopped where convenient the Guard had arrived.
There was a rush of movement on their flanks. The mob began to back up, as guardsmen poured out of their trucks. A man from the lead vehicle stepped out and marched towards them.
"By golly, it's good to see y'all," Agent Roy called out. "Came right when you were needed, I'll never say weekend warriors again. ASAC Louis Roy at your service."
"Captain Jacob Kernel, 163rd infantry, Northern Army National Guard, Sitrep?" the man replied. Rook was unable to see him well in the light or lack thereof.
"We have Joseph Seed and we need him extracted quickly, once that happens we'll need help with the mop up."
"I serve the United States," Kernel gave his salute, then turned to his unit. "Extract the suspect!"
What? Who the fuck briefed this man.
The guardsmen closed the distance quickly. Too quickly. Two men approached Joseph Seed and wrestled him from Rook's grip.
Only Rook resisted back. As if expecting this two others came to pull him away.
He could hear Roy and Flagg chewing out the captain, but it was just background noise. A trooper made to back him up but was pushed and fell backwards. Rook was thrown off back when they pulled him off, and landed forwards when released.
From the pavement, he could see them take the suspect away. The scene in front of him was bathed in flashlights, as his party tried to get a better line of sight on their target. There were many things he could see that didn't look right. For some reason though, his eyes darted to the truck parked closest to him.
Is that a civilian plate?
It was all he had time to think before the plaza erupted in bursts of gunfire.
Author's Notes:
I was originally against trying this story beyond concept. Then 2020 happened, and it suddenly felt very much within the spirit of the times. In addition to the joy of trying to envision a piece of the Fallout world as it would have been within a day of home, the pre-war world of Fallout feels more and more relevant to the present.
The SI concept was born of a few ideas. One was having a hilarious way in fiction to rationalize the insanity of the Father while poking fun at the tropes associated with Self Inserts in ways some writers would deem blasphemous. Second, I wanted a part of the story to read out like a Fallout adaptation of Forest Gump. Lastly, in writing the outline of the story I was trying to explain certain elements of telecomunications and other arcane sciences to myself that are maybe a little more complex than "don't water the crops with Brawndo".
That being said, characters who get the POV treatment aren't nessesarily meant to be likable. Because they are not infalliable heaven descended beings, their actions and/or attitudes will at times disappoint readers.
Happy Election Day my fellow Americans!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone