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85.75% Steel Waste / Chapter 608: Percentages no bueno

章 608: Percentages no bueno

Afton chuckles from behind his helmet at the NCR Colonel's question. "Nunya." he states, awaiting the response.

...

His captured prey doesn't say anything though, their face was locked in fear and desperation... But doesn't move afterwards. Afton feels his pulse and realises he'd accidentally killed the man by squeezing his head too hard... "Fuck..." he mutters, looking around for any survivors, eventually spotting one that was getting mauled by a couple Cyberdogs. "Hey! Nunya Business!" he shouts and grins at getting the joke off of his chest, all the while ignoring the soldiers screams of terror and agony.

He looks around the three artillery machines as the Bulwark soldiers which were comprised of former Brotherhood members mechanically executed the surviving NCR. Once that was said and done, he walks over and checks out the vehicles.

The artillery machines were essentially rocket launchers on wheels. With huge payloads on their backs that were capable of annihilating targets from huge distances. This was easily displayed by what they'd done to the Brotherhood base...

Afton looks over at the base in the distance. Its walls had been utterly decimated, any infrastructure had collapsed and been destroyed, and even the Bunkers that'd survived the great war had received significant damage.

Fortunately, he wasn't forced to fight these things in any difficult situations. If the NCR had any real idea about Bulwark's capabilities, how Bulwark operated, or even what Bulwark was willing to do, they'd pose a much greater threat than what'd happened here.

The ambush itself was rather easy for Afton to set up. Place decoy robots in the Brotherhood base and place teleportation extenders in potential strategic positions around it. Once the NCR turns up, teleport in his forces and watch the chaos unfold.

In all honesty, he didn't even have to turn up. The only reason he was here was to make sure the artillery machines weren't booby-trapped and were fully operational.

He's lost in thought until Melissa walks over with her helmet off, "H-hey, Afton?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are we executing them? Can't we, like, imprison them instead?" she asks, clearly disturbed by the orders they'd been given.

Afton shakes his head, "No. I'm not willing to waste resources on imprisoning them... Look at it this way, there's two choices for them. A; be executed... And B; get captured, tortured for intel and then experimented on" he states noncomitally.

...

"Uh... Experimented on?" she cautiously questions.

"I-er... misspoke, my bad, I only meant tortured for information... Don't you have things to do? Go set up the teleport extenders to transport the artillery machines." he shoos her away, only now realising his mistake... The Brotherhood was created in the first place to stop abominations from being created, something he and the Think Tank were coming perilously close to doing. That's the main reason he'd kept such research under wraps, he'd only be willing to reveal its existence once the Brotherhood of Steel as a whole was destroyed.

Once Melissa left Afton continued examining the Artillary machines, they were 99% functional, with only some dust damage from the drive over. They were still fully stocked and supplied with missiles, which would allow Bulwark to replicate it for further use.

The only thing that needed to be done now was clearing up the bodies and shipping the vehicles back to Bulwark... Hiding the bodies would stop the NCR from discovering what'd happened too quickly, it'd delay the war for a day or so depending on what happens.

After they all return to base, Afton has Glados get to work transporting the Artillary machines to the workshop in order to modify them for the coming battle. He was hoping to have them ready by the time the Battle of Hoover Dam begins as it'd reduce the NCR's morale and be helpful in decimating any Legion forces.

Some Saturnite plating and other system upgrades should be good enough, as well as easy enough to install before the battle begins.

Almost all preparations had been made so far, so all that was left was to finalize a couple projects and have the teleporter extenders ready to transport an army. He'd have the extenders around the Brotherhood base moved to the large hill that overlooks Hoover Dam.

"Glados, give me some numbers for the battle." he asks, wanting to hear what she thought of their planning. She'd helped prepare for it though, so perhaps she'd be a little bias?...

"98.5% chance of victory, losses are guaranteed but these should only be from our expendable forces." she states.

Afton crooks a brow, "What's the other 1.5%?" he asks curiously.

"It takes into account the possibility of another nuclear apocalypse, alien invasion, the bible and rapture being real, the world being a simulation, and the possibility of you inexplicably committing suicide and self-destructing our forces." Glados explains.

...

"Out of that 1.5%, how big is the chance for the rapture actually happening?" he asks, surprised that she'd even consider it.

"0.0000000000000000001%, Creator."

Afton slowly nods, thinking that was about right. "What's the highest possibility of happening out of the 1.5%?"

"Another nuclear apocalypse obviously. If humans are stupid enough to do it once, it is likely for them to do it again. The next would be an alien invasion, but there isn't enough evidence to even support their existence, making the chance of a coordinated assault lower than one would expect." she explains.

Again he nods matching her opinion, he wouldn't be surprised if the post-apocalypse China attempted to nuke North America again just for shits and giggles. The amount of propaganda left behind after the war would likely have an effect on any surviving populace... Especially since America did literally nuke them.

"Alright, the battle should be starting soon enough. Alert the troops and make them aware that they may be moved out suddenly." he says while leaving to check on the progress of the Vertibird.

"Affirmative."


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Niggross Niggross

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