FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Author's Note: This is a story based in the Fallout universe, and I take absolutely no ownership over anything Fallout-related. All Fallout-related objects, monsters, etc. are owned by the brilliant minds over at Bethesda Softworks, so please don't sue me or point out the obvious. This is a work of fan fiction with a furry motif, created by my love for the games. Enjoy.

Everything was dark, and yet all around me I could hear the panicked clamour of a few dozen people thundering around me, then their terrified screams in the pitch black night. Something stung at my eyes and my nose, despite not being able to see, yet I somehow knew it was fire. Something somewhere was burning so intensely I couldn't move. The horrid screams of the people grew almost deafening in my ears, and though I felt myself cover them, the noise pierced my paws like a siren. Something was terribly wrong, and there was not a thing I could do to stop it. I cried out in the blackness, seeing the flames now, and the blurred shadows of death falling all around me, but nothing helped. My heart raced without mercy and fear petrified me, until two clear figures fell in front of me. I could see their faces far more vividly than anything else around me, and though they didn't look immediately familiar, I recognized their pale, bloody faces as my parents. An enormous, indescribable sadness welled up in my heart, blending with the fear and horror, until I looked up at a blackened figure, who I somehow knew was going to deliver me to the same place he'd brought my parents.

But suddenly, another figure appeared, one from a light I hadn't seen before now, a golden behemoth emerging from within the blaze and extinguishing the shadowy figure standing before me. I could see its face, but barely. I sensed its warmth smiling down upon me, until it ripped another shadow apart, the black monster vanishing like mist. Then this golden figure looked down on me once more, holding out a paw and I reached for it. When I looked closer at any distinguishable detail of this saviour of light, it seemed to vanish, and yet when our paws touched it was as solid as I was. And whenever it picked me up and carried me from that place of burning death, I always, always woke up, begging for just another moment, another second with the heavenly creature. But I never got that extra second.

Instead I was always greeted with my harsh reality, in this case a hot and thick-aired morning that stung my eyes, and it always made my slick brown fur feel matted and gross against my skin. And of course there wasn't a thing I could do about it, either, not that there'd be any point. Not in the middle of the Wasteland with the scorching sun beating down on you. Thankfully there was a breeze, however slight, though it didn't help a whole lot since the loose, dry earth was either getting stuck in my fur or blown into my eyes, which burned enough as it was in the blistering heat.

But all in all, despite my recurring dream - or was it a nightmare? - it felt like a good day. I was alive, at any rate, though when I lifted my head from the rock it'd been lying on, I began to pray for the contrary; any day you don't wake up sore - in this case, my neck - you know it'll be a good one. So, I guess it didn't feel like such a good day after all. Damn.

Undeterred, and with a groan, I sat up and stretched my back, shoulders and arms by touching my toes with my paws, then finally relaxed. My fire had long since gone out, and that blasted, unforgiving sun was just starting to rise. Though the breeze felt relatively nice blowing dust through my fur, I knew as soon as that giant ball of gas emerged completely from behind the mysterious hills upon the horizon, that breeze would quickly become tepid and start biting at my eyes and nose. Fortunately for me, I, unlike most furs, could close my ears and nostrils for extended periods.

I then yawned loudly, knowing there wasn't a single soul to hear me for miles, then rubbed my belly, which was aching for food. I'd eaten my last can of Cram last night, which meant I'd have to find a trader fast before reaching the next town, assuming he had some food on him. With a heavy sigh, I at last got up, feeling confident my day wasn't going to improve. I kicked dirt over the spent ashes of my fire and began packing up my gear.

My gear, of course, included a couple weapons and a backpack, which wasn't filled with much anymore, a torn and dirty shirt, torn and dirty camo pants, a filthy bandana and most importantly, a wood-bead anklet I'd made from the necklace of an old dead roo named Chase. Now, my backpack used to hold all my food, as well as some ammo clips and shells, and a couple grenades if I was lucky, but the plus side of going hungry was I no longer had to haul the crap around with me. In the front pocket I carried a few medical supplies, wherever I could get them, but after a gunfight I was in a few days ago, I was down to my last two Med-X and only one Stimpak. And after last night's Cram, I wished I had some RadAway, too.

But like I said, my day could have started off a lot worse. Most mornings you wake up with Radscorpions nipping at your toes, or even worse, Deathclaws sniffing around your stuff. But I was alone out here in the Wasteland, which suited me just fine. I'd been alone my whole life.

Not literally, of course. There was a moment between my birth and my parents death where I wasn't alone, and I suppose a bit more time between their death and how I came to be alone. As far as I knew, from what I'd learned over the years, my parents were killed by a roaming group of Slavers, who'd sacked our town. I'd been to that town, too, and like most places in the Wasteland, it was completely wasted. Any trace of who I was, or who my parents were, was either destroyed or currently being traded for a bottle of irradiated water.

As for that dream I had, it was one I'd been having for as long as I could remember, and though most will tell you dreams don't mean anything, I felt like this one was for sure trying to tell me something. Something, I imagined, about my parents, or about my town or the people they'd lived with, or even about my past. I didn't know what, of course, and didn't really expect to ever find out. Never expected to find out who that Golden Behemoth was, either, if it was even someone real. Out here in the Wasteland, though, I felt like burning towns and killing was common enough to assume that's what had happened to me, and that for whatever reason, despite not remembering any of it, that particular event was constantly replaying in my dreams.

From what I could gather, my parents were killed by the Slavers, and I would have been, too, if not for the Golden Behemoth. I only knew they were Slavers, too, because some old Shepherd trader nearby told me he'd lost his only family in that town - a town called Boulder, named for the enormous boulder shadowing its northern half - and said he could tell by the way they'd attacked and how they'd left it, it was definitely the work of Slavers. Said it wasn't raiders, either (and the Automatons hadn't really formed back then), or so he told me. That was ten years ago, when I was just a kid. I was around twelve when I went back there; it's difficult to keep track of birthdays when you don't ever remember celebrating them.

The Automatons, by the way, are a group of people - insane people - who believe they're all robots, to put it most simply, and follow the orders of their robot messiah named Hyperion. No one has actually seen Hyperion, either, and most figure it doesn't even exist, and it was actually just made up one day by the insane engineer - who they all follow blindly, I might add - named Hyperlink. Apparently he - and only he - speaks personally with Hyperion, receiving mysterious communications that only he can translate, delivered to him on a very special frequency only his antennae can access. Anyway, god only knows what Hyperlink's real name is, but all we do know is he causes trouble almost everywhere he goes, and that he somehow gained an enormous following in a very short amount of time. Hell, even the Brotherhood of Steel give these guys a wide berth, and that's saying something.

It's probably because almost every Automaton totes around an energy weapon of some description, and they rarely travel places alone. Now, I've never actually seen the Brotherhood before, nor the Automatons for that matter, but I've heard the power armour the Brotherhood is famous for wearing is weak against energy weapons, and more especially pulse weaponry. Of course, I didn't own any energy weapons, and had only ever seen a laser pistol once before, so I'd be pretty much screwed in a fight with either of them. But, man, if I could get my paws on their gear for just a second...

Ah, yes, well, delusions aside, the only weapons I carried with me was a standard 10mm pistol and a sawed-off, double-barrel shotgun I called Lucky. Why "Lucky?" Because you're lucky if it doesn't blow your mother-fucking brains out. That's what I tell people, at any rate, when they start hassling me, which thankfully wasn't often. You have to be tough to survive in the Wasteland.

Anyway, after finally stretching my muscles and relieving my neck pain as best I could, I strapped my guns on either hip - Lucky on my right, pistol on the left - and picked up my bag, peering inside. I bounced the bag a bit to get a feel for its weight, as well as to see the things jumping at the bottom, which was my ammunition. Unfortunately, the bag was feeling a bit light.

With an angry sigh, I knelt down on one knee and opened the bag further, digging my paw in and feeling about. I felt three full clips of ammo for my pistol, and a box which when I shook it, rattled with five more bullets inside. Satisfied with that, I pulled my 10mm ammo out and promptly dumped exactly twenty-eight shotgun shells from the bottom of my bag onto the dry, dusty ground next to my extinguished fire. Having the same amount of ammo I had before going to bed, I grumbled quietly to myself and shoved the ammo back in my bag, feeling its weight again. It still felt light, and I could only imagine I'd gotten too used to carrying food with me, emphasized poignantly by my grumbling stomach. I then quickly threw my bag around my left shoulder, feeling it thud noiselessly against my back, and snapped the straps together, which ran diagonally across my chest.

With the dust blowing from the east, with the rising sun, I raised my head and glanced past the broken wall of whatever this demolished building used to be, staring at the horizon to the south, wary not to stare too long. I sighed again and let my eyes fall down toward the ground, observing the brown, low-lying grass and the dry, straw-like shrubs before taking my first steps of the day. And finally, at long last, I continued my journey.

My journey, as it happens, was a lot like any other survivor of the Wasteland: survive. People like me, they can't settle down someplace. It sounds appealing, yeah, but the thought of taking up some sort of profession is just so...boring. I mean, some days I would kill for a boring life where your biggest worry was missing lunch by fifteen minutes, but honestly, I'd start to get stir-crazy. I'd been on my own for almost half my life, and though it generally sucked shit, I definitely felt free. Free to go where I wanted and when I wanted, stopping only for a short time before packing up and taking off. It got lonely at times, of course, but one thing those Slavers didn't take from me, besides my life, was my left paw and my right paw, which have been my most loyal companions since I hit puberty. Lucky kept me company, too, but I haven't lost my mind so much that I talk to it in public. Just, um...well, it'd probably be best to leave it at that.

Besides just trying to survive out here, my journey on the short-term usually included things like finding food, or finding ammo, or finding medical supplies, or in today's case, finally reaching the next populated city. City, of course, has changed meaning since the Great War; any population with more than a hundred people living in it at once was considered a city, while a town usually had fifty or so, often less, and villages didn't really exist these days. Anything smaller than a town made for perfect targets for Slavers and Raiders, so finding one was a very rare occurrence. Most inhabited villages will have already been sacked by the time you get there, and the poor survivors simply don't have any other place to go. They soon die of starvation, and as harsh and heartbreaking as it is, sharing your food with them is a total waste. But that's life in the Wasteland, unfortunately, and how people like me are forced to live.

But anyway, if I didn't run into any unexpected trouble today, I would hopefully reach the next city before nightfall, another ramshackle town aptly called Fuselage, named for the several hulls of aircraft which had apparently crashed there over a century ago, and that people had built homes in and around. I was told about this place by a trader about a week ago, saying he makes stops there on occasion, if he could make it. Didn't matter much to me how long it took to get there, since I usually just went wherever I wanted. But despite the freedom, it was usually nice to have at least some goals in mind, something to look forward to other than a quick death; deaths were rarely quick out in the Wasteland.

I'd had dozens of close calls in my travels, the least of which included gunfire. In fact, I wasn't too bad when it came to gunfights, usually able to hold my own. Most gunfights I get into are against raiders, who are usually just a bunch of sad Wasteland survivors like me who get by on raping and killing innocent travellers such as myself. Of course, one is yet to rape or kill me, and they're certainly welcome to keep on trying, since in the end it just means more ammo and supplies for me.

The vast majority of near-death experiences came when I was literally dying of starvation or dehydration - the latter was much more common - but I have so far been extremely lucky, collapsing in just the right place and at just the right time. Once I was even taken in by a trio of raiders who wanted to use me for some twisted sex game that would inevitably lead to my death, but after resuscitating me they discovered quickly why I named my gun Lucky. Even more lucky was one of them had a box of shells on them, so I walked away ahead.

Every other time I'd nearly been killed, which was a surprisingly small amount, in my travels was when dealing with mutants. Only once with Super Mutants, other times just a pack of feral ghouls, but I'm telling you, you'll never experience a more terrifying moment in your life than when you're staring into the twisted, rotting maws of a Mutant. Ghouls just tear you apart, but the Super Mutants, they like to cage and torture you for a while before finally killing you, which isn't a particularly speedy process either.

Ghouls, of course, are furs who had been so severely exposed to radiation after the bombs fell, their bodies and brains died and rotted to the point where they no longer had control of their higher functions, and yet because of radioactive mutation, were technically and miraculously still alive. Of course it doesn't feel much like a miracle when a group of them are chasing you through some old steam tunnels, as was my experience. The other times were in an old, abandoned sewer system in the last city I visited, once in a crumbling hotel, and another time they chased me out of a god-damned church. No sense of propriety.

Now, Super Mutants, on the other hand, are something almost entirely different. Unlike ghouls, their bodies aren't dead and rotten, but they are, for the most part, intelligent creatures, while also completely furless and resembling some sort of non-descript, twisted animal that may or may not have existed in anybody's lifetime. They looked almost canid, but with a mix of feline and something else, something impossible to describe. Anyway, besides being some freakish, almost furless hybrid of several species, they're also giant, hulking monsters that could rip your limbs off without even trying, then use those limbs as toothpicks, since apparently their lips and jowls had been permanently cut off to constantly expose their deadly teeth. That was a possible side effect from whatever had mutated them like that, though I couldn't imagine such a thing. Intense radiation exposure turned any fur into a ghoul, but most Super Mutants looked identical from one another, which led most to believe it was some sort of chemical process, perhaps something that messes with your genes. Not a fate I'd wish upon anyone, anyway.

I'd had a couple run-ins with normal creatures in the Wasteland - if you can call giant Radscorpions normal - which other than Deathclaws, were easy enough to handle. In most cases, especially for preservation of ammo, it was best to run, since most Radscorpions - or any other wild monster out here - travelled in packs, ranging from small, to large, to fucking large. If not for Lucky, I'd have been either beheaded or disembowelled by a Radscorpion years ago, since my baby packs enough punch in one shell to blow most their heads off at extremely close range, despite their chitinous armour. Course they needed to be right on top of you to be able to do that much damage to them, but it was usually worth the risk. Not that you have much choice in the matter.

But, fortunately for me, the coast this morning seemed clear, hazy green fog notwithstanding. No mutants, no ghouls, no Radscorpions, no nothing. It was just me, my guns, and my ammo, and I couldn't have asked for a better morning. Though if I had a choice, I'd get rid of my neck pain, but I think all things considered, it was a blessing.

And so I travelled the Wasteland largely uninterrupted, stopping only once by a small pool of water just to rest, more especially my footpaws. The ground beneath me was largely hard and jagged, the only relief coming in the form of hard, dry, spiky grass, which was especially painful when it stabbed into the webbing between my toes. Actually, when it was just dirt, that wasn't so bad, though the ground was still hot, but over half my trip was spent walking on sharp pieces of debris left over from whatever buildings had once stood. Even walking on the cracked, horribly broken roads could be torturous at times, though it was probably the easiest going, especially before the sun heats it up to unbearable levels.

The small pool of water I happened upon had relatively soft earth near its edges, though still riddled with sharp stones, and the water itself was comparatively cool. It was no doubt irradiated, like every other godforsaken thing in the Wasteland, but I think it was okay to stick my footpaws in at least. But what I really longed for was to be able to take off all my clothes and just dive right in, and swim for hours undisturbed. That, of course, was my otter instincts, and unfortunately I hadn't had a good swim in, well...forever, to say the least. Actually, no, that's not entirely true. I did take a long swim across a river when running from about fifteen ghouls, but I hardly had time to enjoy that. Plus I had all my clothes on, which made it far more difficult, but fortunately we otters are adept swimmers.

Anyway, having rested for about twenty minutes or so, I finally picked up my bag, threw it over my shoulder and continued on, my stomach growling much more painfully this time. Figured it was probably later afternoon now, not that it particularly mattered, though my stomach was constantly reminding me. I held my stomach for just a moment, the last one forcing me to stop and groan a little, but after the tight grumbling subsided, I was able to continue. Again.

For several hours my journey went on like this, though after just an hour or so I started to adjust and get a bit more used to the pain, eyes constantly on the lookout for traders. Even a main road would have sufficed, since most traders travelled along the roads, but it would seem upon fleeing the firefight from the other day, I'd found myself dab-smack in the middle of the Wasteland with only the dry grass and rocky terrain to comfort me.

But as I slowly hiked over the edge of a short hill, expecting to see miles more of the rocky, harsh landscape, I was shocked and relieved to see a half-ruined structure sticking out miraculously from the ground, apparently the middle of nowhere - though there was a small parking lot and a road leading away from it - and it looked pretty dead, too. Only a few cars littered the parking lot, each one of them more destroyed than the last.

I quickly stumbled down the other side of the hill, heart racing, but careful not to slice my footpaw open on anything as my heels dug into the warm, dry earth. I had to pace myself, because all too often I've dived into situations exactly like these, only to discover the place was overrun with raiders. And so after reaching the bottom of the hill, I took things a bit more slowly.

Head raised and ear pointed to the wind, I approached the chain-link fence - the part of the fence crushed by a fallen lamppost - wary of any unusual noise made by others, but as well as the crunching noises my own footpaws made in the earth beneath me . At long last, though, my footpaws touched down upon the hard surface of the parking lot, having made it this far without a hitch. If anyone inside the ruined structure had heard or seen me, they were likely just hiding inside now, waiting for me to appear to attack. Hopefully there wasn't anybody at all, but caution was still necessary.

With my paw on my hip, in this case my 10mm, which was best for creating cover fire, I slowly and carefully made my way toward the missing door of the ruined, hollow structure, still wary of the sound I was making, which was very little. I was also keeping an eye out for the presence of mines, which raiders were infamous for using to guard their hideouts. When I finally reached the building, without setting of any sort of alarm, I immediately plastered myself to the wall took a few deep breaths, heart racing. I then slowly inched my way toward the opening, and very, VERY slowly, peered around the corner, staring into the hollow ruins of the three-storey building, seeing mostly just a pile of rubble in the centre, which was actually perfect for reaching the junk scattered around on each floor.

When I peered in further, I noticed the farthest end was at least a quarter still intact, while the end closest to me was simply a pile of rubble, caused by the roof and every floor under it collapsing. But so far, and more importantly, nobody was there, unless they were all inside further. Surely if there were people - or monsters - they would have made their presence known by now.

Feeling as confident as you can be in the Wasteland, I removed my paw from my gun and took a step in, still cautiously peering around, observing any cover I might possibly need. There wasn't much, besides a ruined desk and a couple pillars which hadn't totally toppled yet. Fortunately, so far it seemed I wouldn't need it.

Now standing beside the desk, checking to make sure it wasn't booby trapped, I wrenched open one of the drawers with more noise than I'd meant to, but after a frozen second to make sure no one had heard me, I ripped it open the rest of the way, disappointed by the few pieces of paper and a couple charred books. Oh, and a pencil. With a sigh, I checked the next drawer down, again with nothing, then with a bit of effort, checked the shorter drawer in the centre of the desk, above where the chair would go, and was surprised to find a gun, a 10mm like my own, but in far worse condition.

Nevertheless, I picked it up and examined it, removing the clip and happily discovered a few useable bullets, which I quickly put into the box in my backpack. Feeling like I actually accomplished something, though I hadn't really, I tossed the gun aside and looked around, hoping to find something more, but most desks were either buried or too far destroyed to bother looking at. And so I made my way carefully - and somewhat painfully - up the pile of rubble, hopping off onto the second floor where apparently only one hallway was accessible, but at least there were a couple doors I could still enter.

One of the rooms was a bathroom, which proved both disgusting and useless, but I checked the women's bathroom just in case, wishing I hadn't upon exiting. The other room seemed to be a lounge of some kind, totally dark but with tables and chairs strewn about, as well as a toppled fridge and other appliances. I walked in a bit, half the room buried under debris, but after crawling under a large piece of the fallen ceiling, I made it toward the furthest end where the fridge was. Unfortunately, it had fallen over on its front, and I was far too weak to move it on my own. With an angry, heavy sigh, I sat upon its back and peered around the dusty room, finding nothing else of interest. My hunger would have to wait until I reached Fuselage, or so it seemed.

Annoyed and disappointed - though admittedly, I was pretty used to this sort of disappointment - I finally got up and crawled back out into the hallway, then clambered up the rubble to the top floor, where even less was accessible. Despite there being only two hallways I could enter, only one had useable doors, as well as a stairwell I wasn't able to get to on either other floor. Again there were bathrooms without medical supplies - I was beginning to think this place had been stripped years ago by other travellers like me - and the other room I couldn't get any more than three feet into. Which left only one room left to explore, at the furthest end of the dilapidated building, beside the ruined stairwell.

With an unenthusiastic, doubtful sigh, I walked in, surprised to see it was in relatively good condition, and though I carefully checked all the desks and cabinets with zero results, I did turn to discover something fantastic. Upon a small table right in front of the window, with light somehow piercing the thick dust and cracks, stood a glimmering bottle of Nuka-Cola, still full and cap screwed on tight.

"Holy shit," I said aloud, realizing those were the first words I'd spoken all day, and just stared at this shining marvel. Someone had evidently left it here on purpose, which meant if I were to take it, like any other moral traveller, I had to leave something behind, too. Of course, I could just nab it and take off, but...well, I didn't have too many morals left, but this was one I'd always adhered to. So after lifting the beautiful, glowing bottle of sweet, delicious goodness from its perch, I dug into my bag and pulled out eight shotgun shells and placed them down in a nice circle, then laid a Med-X on top.

Feeling extremely happy with my find, I stared lovingly at the mouth-watering bottle of sweetness and carried it out with me instead of putting it in my bag, which I zipped up before leaving.

Carefully, I made my way back down the pile of rubble and was on the ground once more, feeling far more safe knowing there was no roof to cave in on me, and gave my Nuka-Cola another glance, looking through the caramel-coloured fizzy liquid and the sexy curved bottle pointed toward the sun, which no doubt reflected that brown colour onto my face. With a happy sigh, I gripped the bottle with one paw right in the curve, then the other right on the cap, ready to pry the thing off and enjoy what would undoubtedly be my only meal for the day. But just before I cracked the bottle open, I noticed something flash in the corner of my eye, and when I glanced over I was suddenly stricken with fear.

In a matter of seconds, I plastered myself against the wall, inside the building, peering extremely carefully out the door and observing an enormous dark figure standing on the hill at the furthest end of this small valley. It actually hadn't occurred to me until just now that since this building seemed relatively hidden from the rest of the Wasteland, it probably once held something top secret inside, or something valuable. I would have to remember to look for an entrance into any sort of basement after hopefully not getting killed by this brute now descending the hill, his figure hard to make out on the heat-distorted horizon.

But from any distance, I could see this monster - who looked about on par with a super mutant, that is if he wasn't one - could crush me with ease, and as he drew closer, I noticed his weapon of choice was apparently a large steel post with huge nails welded onto it on one end. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd taken that very weapon from a super mutant, though he clearly wasn't one. They didn't tend to travel much, anyway, much less alone.

This time my paw rested upon Lucky as for now, I just observed the guy. He looked mean and angry, like he'd just beaten the shit out of a group of regular furs for looking at him funny, and was now walking away completely unscathed. The closer he drew, I noticed he was a tiger, a massive beast no doubt ready to kill for less than a bottle of Nuka-Cola, but fortunately he didn't seem to be making tracks for this place.

The tiger looked old, at least twice as old as me, if not more, and fat, too. Of course, he also looked like he was built out of pure muscle, but furs this large were extremely rare in the Wasteland, which told me he had an ample supply of food with him, more especially protein, which I was currently craving. Actually, I was craving my Nuka-Cola, which I'd finally put into my bag, but some food would have been great to go with it. And this beast had to have tons.

But how could I get it from him? Did I want to risk confronting him? What if he was a raider? He didn't look like one, given he had about as much armour as I did, which was none. He didn't have any visible scars, and though it's usually impossible to tell, he didn't look like he killed and raped for fun. But, of course, raiders come in all shapes and sizes. None this big, however.

And so I could either let this golden opportunity pass, just walk up to him like a civilized person, or surprise and threaten the poor bastard. None of those options seemed particularly appealing, but the closer he came toward the building - he was at least ten metres away from the edge of the parking lot now - the sooner I'd have to make a choice.

My heart was racing as I psyched myself up against the wall, sweaty paw gripping Lucky hard. "Okay, James," told myself. "Do it. Just fucking do it..."

I'd decided upon a mix of options, feeling letting him get away was out of the question, especially with the sun gradually getting lower. I wouldn't let him pass, but I wouldn't approach him either. Instead, I would try to get behind the guy with weapons drawn, and approach him that way. Threaten him, but try to talk before attacking. Seemed like an okay plan, as far as terrible plans go.

When I peered out again, he was already pacing across the parking lot, walking diagonally away from the entrance, and I quickly dashed behind the desk and across the ruins toward the other side, where there was a broken window, ever-cautious of my own noise. Now in the corner of the building, a bit of the ceiling still intact above me, I waited patiently for him to finally walk past the large, broken window to my left, then I would sneak out and aim my guns. Perfect...

In a horribly long, yet incredibly fast amount of time, I heard his large footpaws pounding into the ground outside the ruined walls, his breathing somewhat heavy, as well as his gear clattering against his body as he moved. My heart was racing like mad, even more so than it usually did before a fight, and it sure as hell didn't help that my mind was telling me this was crazy. Unfortunately I had the nasty habit of listening more to my empty stomach, which growled again as he walked past the window to my left.

As he walked past, I caught a whiff of him, which made my gut wrench horribly. Part of me thought perhaps he wasn't real at all, but fuck, he was damn real. Didn't smell that bad, either, which meant he wasn't a mutant of any kind, which are even more difficult to kill. I had the feeling he would be difficult enough, if things went that way.

There was a point, though, when I started to move, when I realized if we did get into a fight, I was more likely going to be the one getting killed. But I had to force myself to remember, at such close range, Lucky could blow the head clean off a Radscorpion, which is way tougher than the fleshy head of a fur, no matter how large they were. And so very, very carefully, trying my best not to be heard, I stepped through the window and pulled out both weapons, gently inching my way toward the beast. But he'd already stopped before I could say anything, which petrified me.

After a moment, though, I finally snapped out of it and held up both weapons to the massive tiger, who was at least a foot taller than me, probably more. "Stop," I said pointlessly, paws shaking. "Don't you fucking move."

"You're making a mistake," insisted the tiger, his voice very deep and a bit gravelly.

"Shut the hell up," I barked harshly, stepping closer. I was taking lessons from every raider I'd ever encountered, though somehow I felt I was missing something. The beast still didn't move. "Fat bastard like you has to have some food on 'im. Hand it over."

"I'm not giving you anything."

I growled. "God damn you. Just leave your bag and move, and I won't blow your fucking brains out."

Before the tiger said anything, though, I noticed the arm he was holding the steel post with twitch slightly, and as he growled I'd already started to move, ducking and dashing backward as I felt his arms and his weapon swing powerfully above me, nearly tearing off my head.

"Fuck!" I said as I stumbled to get back up, but he came at me again. This time I jumped forward, away from the tiger, landing on my stomach, just as right behind me an explosion of rocks and dirt thundered beneath me. His intense roar was frightening to say the least, but I scrambled forward and back onto my feet, surprised he hadn't hammered me in the back. When I turned around, he was breathing heavily, enormous muscles twitching like he was resisting attack.

But when I held my 10mm up toward him, he went for it, swinging his weapon again. Just as I fired a shot, the gun was beaten out of my paw, which hurt my fingers and my wrist quite a bit, and for now the beast roared at me. This was it, you stupid otter. You couldn't wait to eat, and now you were going to die.

The tiger, though, seemed intent on prolonging this moment, pacing toward me as I backed away, my paw tightly gripping Lucky but not yet aiming it. Thoughts of regret were racing through my head, knowing this was a horrible idea, but it was too late now. Son of a bitch was probably bulletproof anyway, though I did notice some blood dripping down his right arm from his shoulder, though I'd only nicked him. Damn my aim.

Suddenly, much to my chagrin, I'd been backed straight into the only part of the chain-link fence still standing, at least on this side, and all I could do now was stare up into his wicked eyes, praying for a quick death.

"A little one like you must have some guts attacking me," said the beast, now holding his steel club like a shotgun. "For that, I suppose I must commend you, though I imagine it was more desperation than guts."

He was certainly right about that. But at least he had his guard down, which gave me a bit of an opening. "Everybody's desperate," I said, trying my best to distract him. I checked his body quickly up and down, seeing no real weak point, though despite his muscles, his stomach looked like the softest point on him. His big flabby stomach.

"But not everybody's so stupid."

I would have scoffed if I hadn't been scared shitless, but this was my moment. Every time his weapon pounded into his other paw was a moment closer to my death; he didn't seem like the forgiving sort. And so with as much speed as I could muster, I raised Lucky and aimed straight for his face, pulling both triggers.

The deafening explosion of two shotgun shells being fired at once blew through my ears, and the kickback was tremendous, but before I could focus on the result, I felt an extremely powerful paw on my chest and heard a deep, angry growl, and suddenly I was lifted off my footpaws. Either I'd missed or he was quick to dodge my attack. Either way, I was about to be killed.

The tiger, with hate-filled eyes, dropped his weapon and punched me across the face, while still pinning me to the fence, and that, I must say, distracted from the pain in my neck. Instead I was left with a tearing pain in my right cheek and a massive headache, and after his thunderous roar stopped ringing through my ears, I still felt my neck pain. But those, of course, were the least of my troubles.

For now I was punched again in the face, same spot, then thrown into the dirt behind the tiger, then kicked while I was down, and I kept rolling for a surprisingly long time, blood trailing behind me. Oh, and I had trouble breathing, which on the plus side, prevented me from inhaling all the dirt and dust that'd been kicked up, but that was hardly any consolation.

I gasped desperately for air between mad sessions of coughing up blood, and of course my face burned from getting dirt in the fresh wound.

"You have no doubt made many mistakes in your life," said the tiger, approaching me. He picked me up again, and I just groaned. "But attacking me has no doubt been your worst." The tiger then plunked me down on my footpaws and punched me hard in the gut, as if his footpaw hadn't already done enough damage, but instead of letting me fall he grabbed onto my shirt and threw me back toward the parking lot, though I'd somehow managed to stay upon my footpaws.

I looked at the tiger through one good eye, the other swollen and bloody, holding onto my right arm which I think had been hurt when he kicked me earlier, as well as my ribs. The tiger then bent down and picked up his spiky weapon, then looked at me in the eyes, and I somehow saw my death.

Just as the tiger came thundering toward me, snarling and holding out his weapon, I quickly turned to run, but after no more than two steps, I felt an enormous blow slam into my back, a pain shooting up my entire spine and down through my tail, felling me instantly. I couldn't tell if I'd been impaled by one of the large spikes on his weapon, but I knew I wouldn't be getting up, if it would even be possible. I cried out as I hit the ground, my whole world becoming dark, and I wasn't sure if I could feel my legs. If not, I knew how this day was going to end; Lucky would assist me in that. But it probably wasn't going to be necessary as I felt something warm and wet gushing out of my back, and my breathing became more and more difficult. I coughed and coughed up blood, shivering and unable to see. I was extremely weak, but before I blacked out entirely, I managed to hear the tiger walking away, taking nothing from my useless body. Then I felt nothing.

Much to my surprise, I eventually did open my eyes again, body in pain all over, including my legs, which meant fortunately I hadn't been paralyzed. I groaned loudly and managed to turn myself onto my side, lying desperately on the pavement of this ruined building, no longer wanting to explore it any further. I just wanted to get somewhere safe and warm, since with the sun nearly gone, and with my amount of blood loss, I had nothing to warm me up. I couldn't even start a fire, since I'd used the last of my supplies last night, thinking I'd reach Fuselage before nightfall.

I then tried to lift myself, finding that a nearly impossible task, but did manage to get onto my paws and knees. I sighed heavily then groaned, the pain in my back tremendous. But despite that, I noticed there wasn't much blood on the pavement below me, or next to me, but it was something dark, sticky, and smelled surprisingly sweet. It was then my heart sank, and now on just my knees, I frantically opened my bag to see a shattered glass bottle of Nuka-Cola and almost no blood on my shirt.

"God damn it!" I shouted furiously, digging around to make sure I still had my ammo. As I picked the shards of glass out, I cursed continuously, throwing the pieces aside angrily. "Mother-fucking piece of shit," I snarled, picking out the last large piece, then emptying my bag completely, checking to make sure my ammo was okay. After inspecting it and placing it back in my bag, as well as retrieving the bottle cap from the broken top, I zipped my bag up and nearly tore off the front pouch, retrieving the Stimpak and immediately jamming it into my arm, and slowly the massive pain in my back faded, though I still felt remnants of it, as well as in my face and ribs.

I then glanced down at the shattered remains of my coveted Nuka-Cola and sighed sorrowfully, letting the used up Stimpak fall onto the pavement.

"Fucking tiger," I remarked, then slowly got up onto my shaky legs, looking around for my guns. After slowly making my way back to where I'd lost them, for now just carrying my bag with me in my paw, I found Lucky quickly enough and reloaded it, then looked about for my useless 10mm after holstering the shotgun. I found it, too, after about five minutes of looking, feeling like I was just as well off leaving it behind, but instead I put another bullet in its clip and continued on in a delirious, pain-induced daze.

The sun had fallen quickly and the air became cold, and each time I stumbled over something I cursed, then cursed the tiger, then cursed my broken bottle of Nuka, but I didn't stop for a moment. After a couple hours of staggering painfully along, having to avoid a colony of giant ants, I finally saw on the horizon the dim lights of Fuselage, glimmering brightly in the Wasteland like a beacon in the night. Overjoyed, I began racing awkwardly toward the small city still in a bit of a daze, but I think that was due in part to the after-effects of the Stimpak, which was starting to wear off now.

Nevertheless, it took me just under one hour to reach the city walls, the doors having shut for the night, but fortunately a Protectron stood watch outside, and hobbled over to me quickly.

"State your business, sir," the robot said in its dull, robotic voice. Both its arms were pointed toward me, probably programmed to be more cautious after nightfall.

"Let me in," I demanded wearily. "I'm a traveller. I need a place to stay and to get supplies."

"Please present your Fuselage Identification Record," it said.

"I don't have one," I said angrily. "I'm a fucking traveller, you stupid machine. I'll be leaving tomorrow before noon, if you just damn well let me in."

"Please present your--"

"Hey!" I suddenly heard from above the large wood and metal doors. It was a fur waving at me beside a bright lamp, though I couldn't see him all that well. I suppose he, too, was a guard, and hopefully more useful than this one.

"What're you doing here?" asked the fur.

"I need a place to rest," I said, growing angrier. I'd learned early on you could curse and shout at a robot all you wanted, and it wouldn't react any differently, but people, you had to be nice, or at least show you were trying to be, else you wouldn't get anywhere. "I'm fucking injured," I said, letting that one slip out, "and I've been travelling for hours without food."

Then the fur disappeared. I sighed impatiently and stayed in front of the Protectron, knowing if I made any move toward the door, I'd never get in.

A moment later, a smaller door creaked noisily open and that same fur emerged, carrying a lamp with him. "I assume you have no credentials," he said.

"What you see is what you get," I remarked, holding out my arms. The guard checked out my weapons and my bag, then finally noticed my bloody face.

"Jesus," he said, backing away a bit. "C'mon in. Sorry about the Protectron. He's programmed to piss off anybody he doesn't recognize, to determine whether or not they're hostile."

I frowned and followed the guard inside the walls of Fuselage, stopping beside him just as another guard shut the door behind us.

"Need to know where anything is?" he asked with a big yawn. "Been here before?" When he made his way back toward the ladder, I noticed the hunting rifle upon his back. "Doctor, perhaps?"

"Just tell me where the bar is," I said gruffly. "Or the inn, or wherever else they can get me drunk."

The guard laughed quietly. "Had a feeling that's what you were after. Well, only place servin' drinks this time 'a night is old Happy over at the Rough Landing. Down the thoroughfare, there, few doors down. Can't miss it; it's the one with all the drunks and layabouts."

"Thanks," I said, face progressively becoming more painful. They apparently had an aviation theme going on in this town, understandably, but I was glad I wasn't staying long.

Soon enough, after turning the corner, I noticed a single building still with lights on, and a group of people milling around the entrance like a bunch of idle ghouls. I easily slipped past them and finally opened the creaky sheet metal door, ears filled with a jazzy, upbeat tune from the radio before I let the door slam noisily behind me, gaining no attention from it.

The inside of the Rough Landing was, despite the few lights, dark, dank, and reeked heavily of booze and smoke. The wood floor felt tacky, and the air was thick, but the wall behind the bar was lined with drinks, which was all I was after. When I took a few more steps in, past a table of passed-out furs and dripping with spilled alcohol, I noticed sitting at the far end of the bar my tiger friend who'd so thoroughly beaten the shit out of me that very night, and I was struck instantly with both fear and anger. Defeated, though, and not particularly in the mood for another round, I took a seat at the bar as far from the brute as I could, sinking into my shoulders.

"Wha'd'ya have?" a canine no doubt named Happy asked me. He wore just a plain white tshirt, torn, of course, and filthy, as well as a similarly-styled apron. His fur looked sticky and messy, like he hadn't washed for a while - not that you'd particularly want to in the Wasteland, for fear of growing an extra limb - and was chewing on something I couldn't distinguish.

I looked at the wall behind him, seeing tons of whisky and vodka, but I knew precisely what I wanted. "Give me a Nuka-Cola," I said.

"Sure thing. That'll be fifteen caps, pal." Happy made no moves toward grabbing me a Nuka-Cola.

"Fifteen caps? I don't have fifteen caps," I insisted. "Star--"

"Ain't startin' a tab, pal, cause assholes like you don't tend to pay come sunrise. Gimme fifteen caps now and the Nuka's yours. Otherwise, make way for the payin' customers."

Of course there was no one standing behind me, waiting for service.

"I'll give you--"

"Caps, buddy, y'understand?"

I sighed angrily, trying not to lose my temper. Newcomers didn't tend to last long in any town if they couldn't control themselves. I then watched as Happy glared at me, then went to serve someone else, and when I followed his movements, I saw him give an ice cold Nuka-Cola - the best, and sadly the least common way to enjoy a Nuka - to the monster tiger, and the cat just glanced back at me.

I frowned furiously at the tiger, who was just mocking me now. But much to my surprise, he suddenly slid the Nuka-Cola down the worn-out bar, avoiding a half-dead fur, aiming the thing straight for me. Puzzled, I glanced at the cold, sweaty bottle, then back to him. What was this, pity? If I wasn't so desperate, I'd have probably torn off the cap and thrown the bottle back at him, but after yesterday, I needed this.

"Fuck you, buddy," I said across the bar, grabbing the cold soft drink.

Having ignored that, I watched the tiger point to his cheek, then gesture back toward me, and I simply frowned harder at him, lifting the icy bottle toward my face and gasping slightly as the glass nipped at my cuts, yet sending a great, cold sigh of relief all throughout my body. "Ahh," I couldn't help but say, closing my eyes as the swelling went down at least a little bit. When I at last opened my eyes, I gave the tiger a non-descript stare, not yet ready to smile at him, much less thank him, but I cracked the bottle open anyway, smelling the sweet carbonation as it squeezed through my fingers.

When I finally lifted the bottle to my lips, the sweet smell and crisp, delicious taste tickling my senses, I at long last tilted the icy bottle until the cold and fizzy drink filled my maw with intense, amazing cola flavour, dancing on my tongue before sliding sharply down my throat. When I could bear the intense pleasure no longer, managing a few large gulps, I lowered the bottle and listened to the dark, sugary elixir splash and bubble at the bottom. I was thoroughly satisfied.

But when looked back at the monster tiger, I was a little shocked to see he'd vanished, but managed to spin around fast enough to see him exiting the bar.

"Hey!" I said after him, but he was apparently quite done here, as if he'd been waiting for me all night. I just frowned at the door as it slammed shut, and almost went after him, but decided to go with my better judgement and just stay put. Plan for the night was to finish my Nuka and pass out somewhere that wouldn't get me arrested, then take off again after seeing the medic (which wasn't part of the original plan).

In fact, I wasn't even entirely sure where I was headed next, so perhaps directions or local points of interest would be a good thing to learn. Most places, though, around well-established settlements were almost always stripped clean, the vast majority of the junk being used to build or repair the town itself. Occasionally you might find something worthwhile, but in most cases it's either nothing, or a tiny bit of ammo someone had either spilled or left behind in their rush to get out of there.

Exploring ruins and caves and subway systems had always fascinated me, though from a practical standpoint, it really was a waste of time and energy going into these places, because ninety percent of the time if the locations weren't totally stripped clean, then they were so dangerous the risks greatly outweighed the benefits. But that was the sad, pathetic life of a nobody Wastelander like me. With no place to call home, and with no money and barely any food, exploring these places could sometimes mean the difference between life and death.

Some days I imagined I would like to find a place to settle down in, a nice town somewhere where I got along with its people and I never had to worry about going hungry. Certainly the latter was most appealing, but I had no real skills to offer. I could handle myself in the Wasteland, as far as defending myself goes, but I was hardly any kind of sharpshooter. I suppose I could make it as a guard or something, getting paid in Cram and InstaMash and a place to sleep. Some Nuka-Cola would be nice, too, or perhaps just some scotch.

Either way, as appealing as a steady supply of food seemed, the whole idea of staying in one place just sent shivers up my spine. More especially, if I did stay in one place, I would be at the mercy of whoever wanted to employ me, and I'd been on my own far too long to start taking orders from some loser who couldn't survive a day in the Wasteland alone. Though they could always pay me to protect them, too.

Anyway, by the time I finished my Nuka-Cola, my back was starting to ache again and my face pulsed with a sharp pain. Having only two caps to my name, I left the empty bottle on the counter of the bar and staggered sorely outside, glancing around at the people, most of whom had disbursed from when I'd entered. I think subconsciously, I was looking around to see if the monster tiger was still around, either waiting for me to finish the job or to buy me another drink. But alas, there was no tiger, and luckily so.

I wandered about aimlessly for the time being, very little power being supplied to Fuselage and therefore, I couldn't tell what these makeshift buildings were. Not that it mattered, since nothing in this fucked up world was free, and I sure as hell couldn't afford to sleep anywhere with a bed. Hell, I couldn't even afford a soiled mattress between two shacks, though I was hoping to see a nice, quiet alley with a dumpster someplace I could rest beside. But of course, all the good spots were either taken, or fell somewhere below my already low standards. As I walked, I felt as if I was about to collapse, but had fortunately turned between two structures before letting that happen.

I woke again to the sound of a loud bang, then several more, like gunfire. I got up groggily, trying to figure out where I was for a moment, then as it came rushing back to me, so, too, did my pain, which included a splitting headache. With a loud groan, I shakily got up, clinging to the side of a dented metal garbage can to support myself, staggering into the wall as my weight fell onto my legs. I looked up with a great pain in my neck, gazing between the metal sidings which made a roof, seeing the sun had just begun to rise to the east, far out of view. The sky was a pale, sickly green, though, which always seemed to tell me it would be a shitty day. Smelly and hot, if nothing else.

But once I heard a couple more gunshots, I decided to finally take a few steps out into the thoroughfare to see what was happening. Not surprisingly, there were very few shouts, everyone no doubt used to hearing such a thing, though I did observe a couple running away. A few more curious furs were cautiously walking forward, toward the main square, and I decided to follow.

Past several homes and a weapons shop, I turned the corner and saw the main square further along, where upon closer - and brighter - inspection, I noticed a black, bare tree jutting from the harsh, dry ground within stone circle, and just beyond that, right near the general store, was at least five furs all brandishing weapons. I wasn't the least bit surprised, either, that each one was standing ready to defend themselves against an enormous tiger who'd probably started this fight to begin with. Guards, too, were standing by, and yet they weren't stepping in. Just watching.

I finally stopped just before entering the main square, not surprised to see blood all over the tiger's nail-laden metal club, and what was either a dead or dying fur at his footpaws. The others looked as if they desperately wanted to attack, but saw how that'd gone for their comrade. They obviously weren't the bravest furs, but I did notice one thing they all had in common: they all had energy weapons, though only a few brandished them.

"We ain't telling you shit!" cried one of the smaller furs, pushing his laser pistol toward the tiger as he talked. He sounded very tough, at least to the common folk, but I could see easily he was a coward, just like the rest of them, fuelled by rage and the rest of his gang.

The tiger glowered at the five, quite clearly unafraid. He'd obviously asked them a question I'd missed, but I was more curious to know how it started.

"What's going on here?" I quietly asked the Dalmatian standing next to me.

"Not really sure. Was just goin' to the store an' suddenly they were fightin'. Tiger asked 'em who they report to, an' of course they didn't say. Guy lyin' on the ground then tried pushin' the tiger, and, well... You can see how that ended."

"I heard gunshots," I said.

The canine laughed quietly. "Yeah, when the tiger pushed back, guy drew his weapon and fired. Not sure why he didn't use that fancy plasma pistol he's got there, but he fired off a few which made the sheriff come runnin'. Sheriff tried stoppin' 'em by firing a few shots himself, but after the tiger floored the guy, I think he decided he best stay out of it."

I couldn't help but smile, surprised by none of this.

"You boys just get the hell outta here," cried the sheriff, aiming his rifle, aided by a couple more guards. They looked far more nervous than the old German Shepherd did, probably having never seen a real fire fight before. "You, tiger, we don't generally condone that sorta behaviour 'round here. We're not a pretty town, but we're peaceful. You wanna fight these guys, do it outside Fuselage's walls."

I was starting to get a little anxious, having gone so long without seeing any action. These guys could stare each other down all day, but at some point, someone was bound to snap. And my money - my two caps - was on the trembling one with the laser pistol.

"C'mon, man, let's just get the fuck out of here."

"And go where?" said a filthy-looking otter like me. It was always nice to see other otters around, but this one looked as if he'd gotten involved with the wrong crowd. Not sure why I figured that, since the tiger was probably just as bad. But something in this tension told me these five were part of a gang, and for whatever reason the tiger was after them.

The one with the laser pistol didn't respond to the dirty otter, except to shrug.

"This motherfucker's just gonna follow us wherever we go. We've got to end him."

"I ain't fuckin' goin' first."

"Answer my question," said the deep voiced tiger, which admittedly scared me a little, "and no harm will come to the rest of you."

"Forget it, asshole," said the otter, cocking his gun. He wasn't using his energy weapon - a plasma pistol from what I could see - but was holding what appeared to be a 10mm, just like mine. He then glanced at his partners. "We'll attack him at once."

"You don't want to do that," threatened the tiger, but the otter, I was happy to see, didn't even flinch.

He just smiled confidently, aiming his gun further toward the tiger's head, and with so much tension built up in the thick, greenish air, his friends easily did the same.

Suddenly, the nervous hyena - the one with the laser pistol - fired his gun, without warning, and was just as shocked as everyone else he'd done it. The red beam sliced through the air with a sharp zip, striking the tiger in the shoulder which caused him to snarl. The smell of burnt fur and ozone quickly wafted through the air.

The tiger instantly swung his massive arm around, the business end of his make-shift mace swinging upward and tearing the lower jaw clean off the hyena's face, a gruesome sight for most townsfolk, and even for me; I could just stomach it better. As the people screamed in horror and, for the most part, ran, the other two opened fire, and much to my awe and surprise, the tiger avoided most shots, besides a few bullets from a dog to his left. As quickly as he'd ended the hyena, the tiger quickly swing his weapon around and sunk at least three thick nails into the dog's head, letting his weapon fall with him.

As the dog fell, the tiger had taken his pistol and aimed it toward another dog, a Retriever of some description, and before the Retriever had any chance to defend himself, took a bullet to the head. But no sooner had the tiger fired the gun, the otter fired his plasma pistol, striking the tiger in the forearm.

The tiger cried out and dropped his weapon, a horrible green burn sizzling upon his arm, but he was luckily able to avoid another shot. He then vaulted forward and punched the otter in the face, and I had to admit, I was kind of rooting for the otter.

The otter fell back, quick to turn around but not quick enough to stand up. Before he could, the tiger had stomped his footpaw down with an angry snarl upon the otter's back, pushing him into the dirt as he groaned. I knew exactly how that felt.

"Your friends are dead," growled the tiger, apparently ignoring the sheriff and guards moving in, "and you will be, too, if you don't tell me what I want to know."

"I'm not telling you anything," groaned the otter. I felt bad for the guy, and kind of wanted to help him, though ninety-nine percent of the time, anyone who was in a gang was always bad news. He'd probably done a lot of nasty things in his lifetime, too, and though I was no saint myself, the guy probably deserved this. Still...you don't see many otters around.

"Then you are a fool," stated the tiger, picking up the otter's plasma pistol. It looked like he had to figure out how to work it for a second, but as soon as he figured it out, he pointed the gun straight at the otter's head. I felt a horrible churning in my gut as the otter stared up angrily at the business end of his own weapon. "I will find your leader one way or the other. Your death is of no consequence to me."

"Stop!" I suddenly cried, lunging out from behind the pile of metal crates I was using as cover. But when I looked up, I quickly realized my voice had been overshadowed by Fuselage's sheriff, who'd shouted the same thing at the tiger, and probably just half-a-second after I did.

The tiger, at any rate, was glancing back at the three guns pointed toward him, and though I believed he could easily overcome this situation, the tiger clearly knew better. He dropped his weapon immediately and backed away, and yet the otter just looked at me. He'd apparently heard me.

"I saved your miserable life," said the sheriff to the otter, "an' your little crew are all dead. I want you outta here now, y'hear? And don't show your face around Fuselage, or next time it'll be my bullet through your skull."

The otter growled, but sure as hell appreciated the situation he was in, and so with great shame, was escorted out by two other guards. The first two were still pointing their rifles at the tiger, though by this point the monster seemed almost bulletproof. Considering the five dead furs lying in the dirt, I think it was no accident I was left alive, however beaten.

The sheriff then turned to the tiger, looking up at him with his rifle aimed downward. "These boys have been causing a bit of trouble in Fuselage, and though it may sound cold, I'm glad they're dealt with. But this sorta violence isn't what these people are used to seeing, and I can't have a loose cannon like you walking around freely, understand?"

The tiger didn't say anything.

"Anyway, we'll get you all patched up, but after that, I want you gone, too. You seem reasonable, so I hope it won't be a problem."

The tiger looked angry and frustrated for starters, but was willing to comply. Finally he nodded, then began toward the main thoroughfare, toward me. The tiger stared at me as he walked past, which - and I don't admit this lightly - made me flinch and back away, somewhat frightened of the beast.

After the tiger turned the corner and the guards were out of sight, I looked back at the corpses, instinctively looking at their gear. None of them had much oh them except their weapons, but I imagined they had some ammo on them, too, both of which I wanted. But when I stepped toward them, the sheriff stopped me.

"What are you doing?" he asked me, putting a paw out to stop me. He stood just a few inches or so taller than me, but had looked tiny compared to the tiger.

"Out in the Wasteland," I explained, "we're forced to take what we need to survive. So far as I can tell, these guys don't need their gear anymore, and I suppose if you want to get technical, it now all belongs to the tiger."

"You think you're the only one in need of supplies?"

I frowned.

"Fuselage doesn't run on charity."

"Fuselage doesn't have to live in fucking fear every single god-forsaken day!" I shouted, starting to lose my cool a bit. The sheriff, I realized, didn't have much tolerance for hooligans, and yelling at him was probably one good way of getting kicked out of here. And by the way people were slowly emerging to see how this all went down, I could just somehow tell the sheriff not only protected them, but led them, as well. If I wanted to argue, I was greatly outnumbered.

"I understand your plight, Wastelander, but we've all got needs. This city needs their ammunition and weapons, and more especially their caps, just as well as anyone else."

In an attempt to not lose my temper, I frowned harder at him. "I can't carry that much with me. I'll take what I can carry then be done with them. I'll even leave my pistol, if you don't believe me." Bargaining wasn't always my strong suit, but I think this sheriff truly did understand where I was coming from, and perhaps even knew more than most what life in the Wasteland was like.

The sheriff paused before answering. "Take only what you need." The canine then stepped aside, then moved toward some onlookers, trying to calm them down.

But I easily ignored the sheriff, eyeing their energy weapons instead. More especially, that plasma pistol which had damaged the tiger so easily. I bent down to pick it up and observed it closely, and sure as hell appreciated its reconfigured design at the grip, made to more easily accommodate an otter's webbed paws. You never saw weapons like these on the Wasteland unless someone did it themselves, and even then you didn't see it often. Figuring the otter wouldn't be back to retrieve it, I happily holstered it in my belt, then rummaged around the other horribly disfigured bodies for ammo, seeing plenty of the wrong type.

Though it took a bit of doing, I quickly realized where the ammo - energy cells, I think they were called - fits in, and how to reload the pistol. Quite happy with my find, I nabbed ten energy cells, then when the sheriff's back was turned, a pawful of caps from one of them, and ten more cells from another. When the sheriff turned back around, I was fiddling with my newfound weapon, but was quick to gather as many caps and cells as I could, until I felt my bag getting a bit heavier than I'd have liked. If need be, I could dump my 10mm ammo somewhere, since it was unlikely I'd be needing that pistol anymore.

Satisfied, and with twenty caps at the bottom of my bag, I thanked the sheriff for his hospitality, then made my way toward the doctor's.

Finding his place was easy enough, given the small crowd of curious furs standing outside his building up on the second level of the western end of town. Getting in was a bit of a trick, annoyed at what was clearly a group of unadventurous furs, and unfortunately I was greeted by two guards when I entered.

"You can see him when he`s done with the Doc," said the canine, a yellow lab, in a dull, somewhat irritated voice. I think he was getting tired of telling people that. No doubt, this was the most excitement Fuselage had seen in a long time.

"I'm not here to see him," I barked. "I'm here to see the doctor. In case you didn't notice, my fucking face is smashed in." It was then I realized I didn't think I was bleeding anywhere, not anymore, but I was fairly certain when the tiger had struck that final blow to my back, none of those enormous nails had punctured my body. Still, a few more Stimpaks would be nice. I also wanted to eat something, so hopefully he'd have some food. Otherwise I'd have to spend my hard-earned caps on something to eat, which frankly wasn't gonna happen.

"Wait for him over there, the-"

The dog was suddenly cut off when the monster tiger pushed past him, green and red-stained bandages wrapped around his forearm, plus his bullet wounds seemed no longer bloody.

"It will get infected," cried the doctor, an old badger with small round glasses nearly falling off his nose. He then sighed after the guards went after the tiger, glancing over at me. "You going to refuse my help, too?" He was quite clearly annoyed.

"I was hoping you could dress my wounds a bit," I said innocently enough. "And maybe trade for some medical supplies."

"Forgive my hostility," said the badger as he cleaned his glasses with the bottom of his shirt. He placed them back on his nose and put a paw on my back, finally leading me around back. It frightened me somewhat to see how unsanitary everything looked, but figured it was probably cleaner than most. "He comes in with a major burn and several gunshot wounds, but refuses to let me treat him properly. I bandaged his arm and sterilized the wounds, but after that he left. Honestly, he'll be dead in a week if he doesn't take care of it."

"He's pretty tough," I said as I tried my best to ignore the sharp, stinging pain of the whiskey against my wounds.

"Indeed, but there's a reason you don't see furs that big in the Wasteland: they make for easy targets. Personally, I'm surprised he's managed to live this long."

He sure as hell was the biggest fur I'd ever seen, and in my travels, I'd seen a lot of people. I believed I was somewhat average in height and size, probably weighing in at somewhere around 120 pounds and perhaps a little over five-and-a-half feet tall, if even. Not the biggest otter you're bound to meet, but bigger than some. At any rate, size generally didn't matter much in the Wasteland. No matter how big you are, if you're a lousy shot and can't take a hit, you're as dead as the next guy. Of course some people survive on wit alone, but those guys don't tend to stick out in a crowd much, either, not like the six-foot-something tiger who just burst out of the Doc's place.

"How do you plan on paying me, by the way?" asked the badger, who was checking out the rest of my body, and so far he didn't ask me to strip. "Take off your shirt, will you? Your back is awfully tender."

With a frown, I removed my bag and my top without having to untie my no doubt filthy bandana hanging snugly around my neck, which was old and well-used. The Doc's paw pads were rough against my back, and though it hurt to lift my arms to my side, I did so obediently, hoping nothing was broken. If there was, I'd probably be required to stick around even longer, either that or suffer for a month. I was fairly used to the latter, though.

"Well?" asked the badger.

I shrugged painfully, arms still out. He was checking them out, too. "How much does a bit of alcohol and some bandages cost?"

The badger stayed silent for a moment. "That's a fine plasma pistol you have there," he noted, glancing up at me. I knew he wanted it.

"No way," I said. "You can have my 10mm, and its ammo, but you're not gettin' this thing."

The Doc shrugged. "Figured I'd at least ask. But we've got alcohol in abundance here. As for the bandages, give me a clip of ammo and five caps and I'll give you the whole spool. Throw in a couple Stimpaks, too, only because I know what it's like out there."

Finally he finished checking me out, and I think I was okay. "Well," he started, "nothing's broken, which for you I assume is extremely good news. Your back is tender, though, which means you'll have to go easy on it, understand? Whatever hit you, hit you hard. I imagine your pack helped diffuse the blow. So, about that payment..."

"Throw in those Fancy Lads and we've got a deal," I said, having eyed those snack cakes the moment I got in.

The doctor glanced over at them, then smiled at me. "Those things'll kill you," he said, then handed them over. I couldn't help but think he only kept them there so he could use that line on all his patients.

I quickly put on my ratty, torn shirt again, then after digging out my ammo and throwing in my supplies, I thanked the badger and left, throwing my bag around my shoulder. Happily, the crowd had left no doubt after the tiger did, and I was free to enjoy my cakes, though they hardly replaced an actual meal.

When I made my way back toward the main square, several people were already helping in removing the bodies, a box of more useful scavenged items stored next to the general store. The sheriff, of course, was still standing nearby, clearly with nothing else better to do.

I shoved the last cake in my mouth, pushing it in with one finger, then moseyed toward the mess, trying to look like every other curious onlooker, but the sheriff clearly saw me. I was hoping to get a chance to rummage around a bit more for extra supplies, but with my bag already heavy and so many people around, as well as the sheriff watching me, it seemed unlikely.

"What happened to the tiger?" someone suddenly asked the sheriff, and I had to admit, I was a bit curious myself. I noticed his weapon was missing, so clearly he'd been allowed to have it back.

The sheriff just glanced over to whoever had shouted at him, which of course gave me an opening to glance into the supply box.

"Not too sure," replied the sheriff.

All I saw in the metal box was a few guns more useless than mine, a tiny bit of ammo, plus a couple caps I'd evidently missed. When I noticed the sheriff talking some more with other curious citizens, I nudged the box with my footpaw, keeping an eye out for anyone who wanted to stop me, then glanced back in. Those caps an ammo were nagging at me, and I knew they'd go to complete waste here, plus I needed them. Damn you, sheriff.

Suddenly, someone across the square, and up above on the second level leaning on the crappy pipe railing, started shouting something, asking more questions I think, asking if they were Automatons. The sheriff turned completely around to answer, and I quickly sunk my paw into the metal box. I could feel eyes upon me, but not one of them said anything or had a mind to. I quickly pocketed the caps and managed to get a hold of the last few energy cells before someone shouted at me.

"Hey!" I heard, and felt heavy footsteps stomping behind me. "You cheeky son of a bitch." It was the sheriff, of course, and I stood up slowly. "I have half a mind to take all your equipment from you."

I frowned and focused a little, paw twitching near my hip. "Over my dead body," I grumbled, then suddenly drew my weapon, turning and pointing Lucky right at the sheriff's head. Fortunately he hadn't drawn his weapon, though there were a couple other guns upon me now.

"Woah now," he said, paws up. "There's been enough death today, and I'm sure you don't want that bounty on your head."

"Just came for the rest of my stuff," I said with a bit of a grin, heart pounding. Those gun barrels were drilling holes in the back of my skull, and I felt a bit of sweat roll down my back. I didn't want this to turn nasty, I just wanted to get the hell out.

"You had nothing to do with this, kid. I know you gotta survive out there, but so do we. We've all got needs, and we've all got problems. All in the same boat together, y'hear?"

I just scoffed. "Yeah, I hear," I said, inching my way toward the other end of the square, past the black tree and toward the road leading toward the exit. The tension was high and I was starting to feel dizzy, especially as the sun struck my eyes. But I had to focus, if for no other reason than to not give somebody an opening to kill me.

"I'm leaving now," I told them. "I've got everything I need, and I'll be on my way."

"Where're you headed?" asked the sheriff. "Ain't nuthin 'round here, no place for you to go. No food. You'll die out there."

I was nearing the door, painfully slow. I felt the guards at the entrance had their guns on me, but were probably eager to see me leave. "I live my life like that every god damn day." What I really wanted was for the sheriff to stay put, but he seemed intent on following me toward the exit. I suppose it kept the guards from firing on me, since I'd bet my new pistol these guys couldn't hit a moving target. But still, I think he wanted an opening to catch me or something, probably to take all my gear and kick me out. Fuck that. I needed this stuff way more than he did, whether I had to steal it or not. That's life in the Wasteland, and though he seemed to understand that, living his life in Fuselage seemed to have changed that.

Ah, finally, I reached the door, the guards having run down their little steps to more properly aim their guns at me. But if I've learned one skill in all my years, it was how to get the fuck out of a door.

With my left paw upon the lock, I stood in the metal frame of the door for just a moment, sweat now thoroughly drenching the back of my shirt, more especially against my bag. But I was nearly there, and just as I shoved the door open behind me, I heard the sheriff shout and shots were suddenly fired, striking the door - and nearly myself - beside me.

Heart racing like mad, I managed to slip out through the door and outside of Fuselage faster than any fur had ever done in his life, or so I imagined, letting the door slam heavily beside me. Breathing heavily, I quickly realized my shirt had suffered one bullet hole in the sleeve, meanwhile the door now behind me had suffered far more. But this was hardly over yet.

When I turned around, the Protectron's face, or the robotic version of its face, was red, and its arms raised in anger. Keeping up with my adrenaline-fuelled pace, I swiftly swung my arm around and took a few large strides toward the robot, lifting Lucky to its face. With zero time to think about any of my movements or what I was doing, I instinctively cocked my gun and pulled both triggers, blowing an enormous hole in its head.

"St-op...citizen. Sto-"

Feeling somewhat triumphant, I suddenly heard shouting from behind me, and without turning around I took off, hearing loud gunshots and feeling the dirt explode beneath my footpaws as the bullets flew. But I was as swift on land as I figured I would be in water, and was gone behind a large rock and a short hill before they had a chance to come after me. And though I seemed to be safe now, I continued running, past a few more large rocks and back toward the city, though still far from it, wanting to travel west. I of course looked around cautiously the closer toward Fuselage I got, climbing some enormous rocks until I was up on some low cliffs, viewing the city and its immediate area from at least two hundred metres away, maybe a bit more. Looking down, I saw a black spot that was the dead Protectron, as well as some people tending to it, and fortunately no one was after me.

With a bit of a smile, and sweaty clothes, I hopped off my perch and pressed on, moving away from the city, but still heading west, still with no real idea of where I was going. In retrospect, I really should have asked someone what's around here before robbing their tiny supply box, the contents of which didn't rightfully belong to them, anyway.

And so for the time being, I headed more or less in one direction, the sun piercing the greenish haze and beating down on me without mercy, and in almost no time at all, I felt my stomach grumbling.

"For fuck's sake," I said, cursing my complete lack of foresight. All too often I did things without thinking, acting more on impulse and desperation than calm, boring logic. It kept my life interesting, of course, and always heart-pounding, but one of these times - and this could certainly have been it - I was going to find myself in a more dire situation. Like having no food, for instance. But hey, at least I'd leave behind plenty of ammo and caps for the next asshole who stumbles upon my lifeless body. Probably an asshole with lots of food, too.

As I travelled, I passed by several large, ruined buildings, mostly just piles of wood and bricks now, but I rummaged around anyway. Finding nothing of use, I pressed forward, constantly tripping over rubble or stubbing my toes on debris. When the path turned more into a solid road, around me the several ruined buildings turned into dozens of ruined buildings, until quickly I was strolling through a destroyed suburb. It was interesting how some of the homes were still largely intact, the outsides charred and the insides equally as damaged, and yet each room was remarkably well preserved, relatively speaking. Most of the structures that had collapsed or been blown away, you could still make out which rooms were which, like bathrooms or living rooms for instance, and most times some of the larger appliances and furniture - and skeletons, sometimes - were still in place.

Without a doubt, this was one of those classic suburban neighbourhoods I'd seen pictures of in some pre-war books lying about, the ones whose pages were still mostly intact. Each property was approximately the same size, each house looking - or how I imagined the houses looked, back when they hadn't been nuked - the exact same. Very peaceful, very idyllic. But of course it was all rubbish now, burnt remnants of a better time. Now people would kill for a tiny piece of metal that said "Nuka-Cola" on it.

As I wandered the cracked, broken streets of the nameless town, with only a few brick or concrete buildings left completely standing at the furthest end - which I was currently heading for - I suddenly heard a noise from a few houses away, something like cursing and throwing garbage around. I became naturally more cautious, walking slower and quieter, approaching the wall of a house which had only been half demolished, though amazingly the one next to it was nearly non-existent.

The cursing of course continued, that is until I inadvertently kicked a piece of garbage close to the wall, and with a loud bang, all noise stopped.

"Who's there?" I heard, and the voice was familiar. "Go away, or I'll blow your fucking head off."

After just a moment, I remembered the voice from earlier. If I was right, it was the otter from town, and I just happened to have it on good authority, he was not able to blow my head off.

"You don't have any weapons," I called back, paw on my 10mm. I always liked to start with the 10mm, since I had more ammo for it, despite the loss of a clip today, and it was faster to reload. Which of course reminded me, I hadn't bothered to reload Lucky yet after destroying the Protectron. "I saw you at Fuselage today."

Suddenly, the other otter who was at least ten years old than me, probably more, popped his head around the corner, I think recognizing my voice, too. "It's you," he said with a gravelly voice. "I heard you back there, but no one else did."

I just shrugged, not sure what to say to that. "Gotta help a brother out, y'know? We otters are too few and far between."

The otter smiled at me, but I didn't trust that odd glint in his eye. I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid, that I was too used to not trusting anyone, and yet I tried desperately to push that thought aside, wanting for some reason to befriend this poor soul. Perhaps because we shared a common enemy: the monster tiger.

"So what was that all about, back there?" I asked him. I don't think he saw that I had his weapon yet, since it was holstered under my belt, behind me next to my tail.

The otter scoffed, and it suddenly occurred to me I didn't know his name. "He's just a brute, looking to pick a fight. Fuck him." The otter than spat.

I then held out my paw toward him, which made the bruised and battered otter flinch. "My name's James. James Grayson," I said with a smile.

He nervously held out his paw toward mine, shaking it cautiously. "Circuit," he said, apparently with no last name. I was having my doubts that was his real first name, anyway.

"Some people in town were saying you're an, uh...Automaton." I was wary about mentioning it, should it be true. From what I'd seen, though, he didn't seem to think he was a robot, though his name was a little disconcerting.

The otter just glared at me, then went back to what he was doing, crouched down in front of what appeared to be a floor safe. Stuff had been cleared away from it, and it amazed me he'd even found it to begin with. Perhaps he was in town to get supplies to open it with, before the tiger found him. At any rate, I think it was true about him, being an Automaton.

"I don't mean anything by it," I said, referring to my asking. "I've never met one before. I've always been told they're really dangerous, y'know?"

"What're you trying to imply?" he asked, glaring at me again. He was concentrating quite hard on opening the safe, carefully turning the knob while having something stuck inside the keyhole.

"Nothing," I shrugged. I figured I could take a few liberties in dealing with Circuit, since he was totally defenceless. "You just seem...normal, I guess."

The otter grunted, then cursed, then slammed his fist into a piece of broken wood. "Fucking safe," he snarled. "You got any food on you?"

I shook my head. "Don't have much of anything on me." I was starting to regret taking his plasma pistol now, but more especially not putting it into my bag or anything.

"You good at picking locks, or what? Why the fuck're you talking to me?"

"If you prefer, I'll go. Asshole. Just saw an otter in need, thought I'd try to help."

"Yeah, well unless you can blow the fucking lid off this safe, you're pretty much useless."

"Why don't you take a break for now? Sun's pretty hot today."

The old otter sighed, then plopped down in the rubble with his back to the wall. "That damn tiger took everything I had. Now I'm just another piece of shit scavenger like you. Can't return..." The otter cut himself off.

"Return? Return where?" I took a seat across from the otter, upon a flat piece of wall, the floor safe between us.

"None of your damn business," he said. "Needless to say, I can't go back. To my brothers, I mean."

"Your fellow Automatons?"

Circuit glared at me, then nodded. "Whenever we're sent out, we're expected to find something, be it ordinary or extraordinary. We found this safe, which not one of us could crack, so we decided to go to Fuselage and get some stuff. No idea what that fucking tiger's problem was, but for whatever reason he was hunting us down. Or, at any rate, hunting our leaders down."

"Hyperion?" I asked, knowing very little about their gang.

The otter shrugged. "I suppose so, but that's not who he was looking for before slaughtering us."

"Then who?"

The otter sighed, then wiped his brow. I noticed him at several points in talking to me eyeing my weapons, which made me nervous. "There're many factions across the Wasteland, just like the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. If I had to guess, I'd say the tiger was making his way up the food chain."

I then rubbed my cheek. "He apparently likes to kick the shit out of otters," I mused, the tension getting just a bit too high.

Circuit scoffed and turned away. "So tell me about yourself, James Grayson." He was glaring at me again.

I shrugged. "Not much to tell. Been a wanderer for as long as I can remember. Lost my home and parents in a slaver raid when I was just a pup. Lived on a brahmin farm half my life, but ran away after going back to the village I grew up in. Pretty standard story for most Wastelanders, I think. More or less."

Circuit smiled. "I hear that."

The two of us sat in silence for a while, with not much else to say between us. I was starting to get uncomfortable with how much the otter kept looking at me, worried he might transform into some horrible robot and crush me. Of course, I wasn't actually afraid of that. In fact, it surprised me how down-to-earth this guy seemed, considering he believed his messiah Hyperion would save us all from our Hell On Earth. Remove us from our fleshy bodies, and all that.

"So do you really believe in all that robot stuff?" I asked. "I mean...you seem pretty sane to me. You really think Hyperion exists out there?"

That seemed to make Circuit laugh, but it didn't quite seem like an "oh, you figured me out" sort of laugh. It had some serious crazy undertones, which made me nervous. Despite having three guns, only two of which were currently loaded, and him having none, I found myself wanting to get the hell away from him as fast as I could, and that insane glint in his eyes I kept catching told me he was starting to catch on.

"Well," I said, before letting the otter answer, "it's still early, and I've got a lot of ground to cov-"

"Sit down," he barked, standing up. My paw immediately shifted to my left hip, upon my 10mm. But for now I sat. "You people of the Wasteland, you all judge too easily that which you do not understand."

"Oh god," I said under my breath, staring up at him. I was kind of okay with him just being a violent, desperate killer, but the fact he really did believe in this stuff made him that much scarier.

"But Hyperion will come, you will see, and you will bow before our messiah, praying he will implant you."

Now I was standing, and just as I did, the otter lunged at me and gripped me tightly around the neck. I felt his paw upon my back, moving around, probably searching for the third gun I'd hoped he wouldn't detect.

"I smelled the plasma discharge the moment you came near me," he said, and I felt his paw grip the weapon. Suddenly, the otter pulled it out and as he pushed himself away, aimed his pistol at me, and I did the same to him.

"Do you think I give a shit that you're an otter?" he laughed at me. "We're all the fucking same, every last one of us. We may look different, but in the optics of Hyperion, we are all just flesh and bone. We are all weak, and must be delivered from our bodies."

"You're fucking insane," I growled, 10mm aimed right between his eyes. It was a shame this asshole turned out to be crazy, since I hadn't seen another otter in the Wastes since I first left my adoptive home. He looked like he'd seen much more of this world than I had, too, and I would have loved getting to know the guy, aside from the whole Automaton thing. I'll bet he had some really interesting stories to tell, and a very rich life. At least, as rich a life as people could possibly have in the Wasteland. Regardless, when the otter started to squeeze the trigger of his gun, I truly regretted my next move.

In the instant I saw his fingers twitch, I shot a single 10mm round straight into the otter's skull, killing him instantly, and I had to admit, after everything, it made me a little sad. I sighed quietly to myself as his body finally stopped twitching, then at last holstered my gun. I sat back down and let my head dangle between my arms, which were resting on my knees, and for now I just waited for the adrenaline to go back down, having had far too much excitement for one day. Though at this rate, I'd be fending off a horde of ghouls by noon, then running from super mutants before dinner. Not that I had any dinner.

After a long moment, I looked back at the now fly-ridden corpse and sighed once more, figuring I couldn't sit here and mourn the loss of another otter all day. Instead I got up and as respectfully as I could, pried the plasma pistol from his cold, dead paws, wishing I hadn't waited so long, as his fingers were quite stiff. But after a bit of doing, I retrieved the gun, and figured while I was rolling his body off the floor safe, I might as well take his holster, too, which I strapped painstakingly behind Lucky. When I moved around to drag his body out of the way, I felt the holster banging against the side of my tail, which I hoped would be easy enough to get used to, or that it wouldn't be as much a pain as I imagined.

At long last, though, I moved the body enough out of the way so I could access the floor safe. On the floor beside me was a fallen desk - a fallen desk with nothing inside - and a broken computer next to it, which would have undoubtedly granted me access as well, not that I was much of a computer whiz. So I grabbed the bobby pins anyway, staring at the small black door like it was a puzzle, trying to figure out how I'd get this damned thing open, and why he was after it so vigorously.

I'd been shown once before how to pick a lock with these things, and though I managed the lock of a creaky old wooden door, I imagined this safe would be far more complicated. But would it be? Perhaps the lock was much the same, just...more difficult?

Determined, I stuck the bobby pin into the lock and carefully held a paw to the safe's dial, spinning it carefully with my ear nearly pressed against the black surface. I could hear clicking and noises, which felt like a good thing, but I really had no way of knowing if what I was doing would get me inside. After a couple minutes, I began to figure out why Circuit was getting so angry, since I was starting to do the same.

I growled loudly, forcing the bobby pin in and nearly breaking it. "For fuck's sake," I snarled to myself, stopping for a second. I then collected myself and kept trying, feeling like I was nearly there, but was clearly missing something. When I actually recalled my lessons, I remembered needing a screwdriver or something like it to help in turning the lock, since the bobby pin was too weak to turn it on its own. And almost immediately after remembering that, I looked about and saw a rusty old screwdriver that was missing its handle, which Circuit had no doubt been using. Whatever he was after had better be good.

After a few more minutes of desperate lock-picking, I was almost ready to give up when I at long last heard that amazing little click, and I knew I had it.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" I cried, my luck starting to turn around. "Holy shit," I said as I dropped both the screwdriver and the bobby pin. After basking in my victory and the boiling sun for a moment, I finally opened the safe.

"What th..?" When I peered inside, I saw three enormous piles of pre-war money, a couple useless documents and a photograph. "God fucking damn it!" I shouted furiously, pulling out the money and throwing it angrily against the wall, the dirty green bills fluttering around distractingly. There wasn't a single cap inside, nor any weapons or ammo or food, nothing but a stupid, time-wasting Wastelander like me needed to survive out here.

"I hope you're fucking happy," I said to the dead otter, admittedly feeling even worse about killing him now. But it was either me or him. When I glanced back into the safe, I noticed there was something written upon the back of the photo, which depicted a little girl, a husky.

My dearest daughter Johanna, it read. If you are reading this now, then you are much older and either your mother and I have passed away, or the bombs have finally dropped. I can only imagine how you must be feeling, and I am truly sorry you have to be reading this now, but it is imperative you heed this message. For the past decade, myself and my good friend Henry have in secret been building an underground vault just like the ones Vault-Tec are making, should we enter World War III. In any case, you must go to the vault immediately, with no question; you will find it thirty miles south of here, past the Howling Rock (I pray you still remember it). The entrance is between two large boulders upon the hill, and shouldn't be hard to see. There is enough room in there for Jimmy, too, assuming he is still with you, and enough food and supplies to feed family. My only regret is I am not alive to see you now, nor to see the fine woman you have grown into, nor the family you are sure to bear. I love you, my dear, more than you will ever know. The passcode to enter the vault is your birth date.

"Well fuck," I frowned, dropping the photo. Everything sounded so great up until it said the passcode, which of course I would never be able to guess. Nevertheless, I looked around in the safe once more, trying to find some clue, but found only more useless money. Exhausted from my morning so far, I sighed heavily and stood up, taking the photograph anyway. I shoved it into my bag and after stepping out of the ruined home, adjusted my belt and my holsters a bit and continued on, stomach reminding me of how hungry I was.

For now I headed south, not terribly concerned with the concrete structures at the other end of the destroyed suburb, but far more interested in the prospect of food. As I travelled, I kept my eyes open for anything somebody might call a Howling Rock, not entirely sure just how long thirty miles was. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it by nightfall, though, not that I had anywhere to be by this point. Frankly, I was kind of glad I at least had a destination in mind, which usually wasn't the case.

Along the way, though, having seen nothing but dead trees and rocks and hills and dry shrubby bushes for at least five hours - all while staying on the main road - I at last saw a another dilapidated building, possibly a high school or university or something, surrounded by ruined homes, much like what I'd left behind with the otter. But since the sun was inching closer and closer toward the horizon, to the right of the road, almost right behind the building, I figured I should find a good place to rest for the night, and hopefully not die of starvation. Of course, I'd survived dozens of nights without eating all day, and knew from personal experience it would be at least another week before I'd start my slow descent toward madness and death, though that was assuming I could at least drink something between now and then. Water, unfortunately, was heavy, and I would only ever carry it with me if it was pure. No sense carrying around irradiated water with me, since that was about a thousand times more abundant.

Anyway, it took almost no time at all for me to decide to head straight for the structure, figuring if it was a school, there would have to be some food or water somewhere, which of course meant there would have to be some raiders somewhere, too. But like most days, I was desperate, and with my newfound weaponry, despite how I'd obtained it, I felt more confident than ever, which was generally not a good thing to feel. Confident Wastelanders, especially those who shouldn't be, got killed very quickly, while confident Wastelanders who deserved to be - such as a particularly monstrous tiger - survived. Though by that token, monstrously large furs didn't tend to last long either, since most raiders and slavers drooled over them.

Nevertheless, I had a good head on my shoulders and keen senses, so I could likely avoid certain death if I was just clever about it. I didn't even have to be particularly smart, just...logical. Approaching new places while kicking a tin can around and screaming to the high heavens was not a logical thing to do, which I think anyone from a trader to a scientist would be able to figure out.

And of course, as life had taught me time and time again, I approached the side of the building very quietly, watching my footing very carefully as I stepped over all the rubble and ruined homes, now off the road. This looked like it could have been a nice neighbourhood before the Great War, but of course it was completely decimated now. Amazingly, the school - I was assuming it was a school by this point - was in great condition, the walls relatively solid and nothing yet collapsed. I saw no way in yet besides the doors out front, but there were usually at least a couple doors around the sides or in the back. Unfortunately the side I was approaching, whose windows were either shattered or boarded up, didn't have any doors, but instead a couple dumpsters.

Most of the time if dumpsters didn't have a body or two inside them, then they were just jam-packed full of garbage, neither of which helped a wandering Wastelaner. But of course I had to always check, ever since that time I found a 10mm pistol inside. And with the two I was slowly approaching, I would make no exception.

When I finally did reach the dumpsters, I felt confident enough that there were no people around, or if there were, they were all hanging out inside. A part of me hoped they were friendly, but nine times out of ten, they weren't. Raiders were the most likely, ghouls second most likely, though they had a tendency to congregate in heavily irradiated places like sewers or factories. Almost every place I went to I prayed it wasn't super mutants, though those places were much easier to avoid since it was usually pretty obvious they were there. So far, this place looked just like a plain, uninhabited school. I was leaning more toward a university building, since the brick and concrete building up the road by the dead otter looked similar, as well as the ruins around it.

Upon lifting the heavy metal lid of the first dumpster, my face was of course bombarded with the intense stench of hundreds of years of garbage, a smell you'd think would dissipate after so long. But it hit me harder than a power fist, causing me to step back and let the lid slam shut, which made me freeze immediately. The sound seemed to echo off the hills behind me, a couple birds or giant insects flying off as it did. And I stayed deathly still, listening for sounds of life. So far there were none, but I waited a long while more, heart pounding. So far so good.

Not particularly wanting to press my luck with the first dumpster again - plus I didn't see much in the brief second the lid was open - I went ahead and checked the other. It, too, smelled worse than worse, but at least I was prepared for it. Holding my breath , I pushed the lid up and let it rest back against the wall, and fortunately it stayed propped up, and I peered inside.

It was nearly impossible to distinguish any items in the dumpster, the plastic bags seeming melded with all the nasty, black junk inside, which looked to be stuck permanently to the insides, mixed with rust. Nothing stuck out immediately, so I carefully closed the lid and cursed, backing away from the dumpsters and that god-awful stench. Even my paws stank, and no doubt the rest of my fur and my clothes did, too.

I then sighed heavily, hating to waste my time like that, but in my line of work, it could sometimes be vital. In the shadow of the cracked yet remarkably solid school, I decided to look around for an entrance other than the main, having learned why that was the stupidest way to go years ago.

Actually, when I began to think about it, if there were raiders inside, then I was surprised none of them were sniping on the roof, though I suppose I could have snuck in close during a shift-change or during their dinner or something. Besides that, there hadn't been any traps laid or defences built, like sandbags or barbed wire fences. In fact, it looked as if no one had even been here before, though I doubted that severely. It was too close to the main road, far too visible to have never been visited, though it had occurred to me that maybe people just hadn't been stupid enough to get close enough to check.

Perhaps everybody before me had simply figured this place was infested with giant ants or taken over by raiders, and so didn't even waste their time. Maybe even raiders thought it was so obvious, they just walked on past. Though...that didn't seem too likely, either. This would have been a fucking goldmine for whoever discovered it first, probably a group from one of the Vaults. Perhaps they were still here, too, or their children's children, or something. Though if that was the case, it would probably look a lot more used and have some sort of defences. Plus, it seemed unlikely that people would opt to start up Fuselage so close to such an otherwise perfect place to live.

And so my conclusion was, I had no god-damned clue who was holed up inside this place, but it had to be someone, and most likely, someone I didn't want to meet. Contrary to what you may think of me, I don't like killing. I especially don't like killing otters, which before today I hadn't ever done before. But as ironic as it sounds, killing was a part of life out here in the Wasteland, and unfortunately if you don't kill, then you'll be killed in no time flat. That was the way it worked out here, and as harsh and sad as it was, it was the only way to live, and the only way to survive.

When I finally found an alternate entrance, having found a door at the further end, smaller than a regular door and probably lead to the basement, or to a control room or compressor room or something of the sort. Something mechanical, at any rate, which would have undoubtedly been off limits to whoever had attended this school in their lifetimes.

It was difficult imagining what many of these places looked like before the Great War, despite having seen a few old pictures, since I was so unfortunately accustomed to living in an absolutely decimated world. Rarely did places, even some towns, have power, and even imagining entire cities far bigger than Fuselage being constantly lit up was just staggering to the mind. But apparently it was true. People lived in their homes without torn up walls or destroyed fences, everything neat, tidy, and intact, and of course a constant stream of electricity always running through their perfect homes. And they could do so much with that electricity! They all had fridges, apparently, which always kept their Nuka-Cola's cold. Hell, in this day and age, if you were lucky enough to even find a place with enough electricity to power a functioning fridge, you'd have to pay at least twice as many caps for a cold Nuka. But to think they could have a nice, icy cold one whenever they wanted...

Often times I let my mind wander in the Wasteland, which was probably the only way I kept myself sane. I never got too carried away with my daydreaming, and never did it when I really needed to focus - this situation with the university building apparently didn't warrant much focus. Daydreaming was like my way of reminding myself I was still stuck in this horrible, post-apocalyptic nightmare, which I think kept me from becoming delusional. Or something like that. Either way, whether it actually helped or not, I couldn't help myself but escape for a little while, kind of like taking a mini vacation now and again to a different time.

Just imagining a world where my parents were still alive and still cared for me, and where I didn't have to kill a man before I was... I then shook my head and focused on the door, which didn't seem to have a workable knob. Instead it just had a handle and no way to unlatch it, and when I pulled, it hardly budged.

"Damn you," told the door's handle, rattling it a bit harder while still remaining relatively quiet. "Everything has to be so fucking difficult," I muttered, stopping for the time being. I looked around for something that could possibly help, like a crowbar or a grenade, but neither were readily available. The thought of blasting away at it with my plasma pistol appealed to me, but I had no idea what sort of reaction that might cause, or how much ammo I'd waste in the process. Having never fired one of these before, it could use up one whole energy cell as far as I knew.

Unfortunately, most of the windows were all boarded up, which suggested to me one of two things: either it had been condemned before the Great War, or someone inside didn't want someone outside coming in. Either way, it made my life that much more difficult, and as the minutes passed, my hunger grew and I felt less and less inclined to get in. The sun was rapidly setting, though, and if you can get inside a building, or even into a small network of ruins, your chances of surviving the night are that much better. How could this building be so hard to get into? How has nobody done it before?

I took a few steps away from the impossible door, looking a bit closer at all the windows, and though they seemed to be less secured on the second floor, I had no way of getting up that high. Naturally I looked for a way up, first seeing if there was a ladder, then looking more at the structure itself, to see if any large cracks or loose pieces of brick could assist me. But alas, there was nothing. I could probably try climbing up the side, since the windows, despite being boarded, were inset enough where I could get a good foothold. But there wasn't much between floors to climb or hold onto. And so within moments I was back at the door, cursing loudly and yanking on the handle as hard as I could, stopping only when I felt something pop in my shoulder.

"God damn you," I said to the school, rubbing my shoulder tenderly. I then glanced about to see if anybody had heard me, then started around the other end of the building, to see what else there was to see. Cautiously I made my way around the corner, seeing mostly the same as before: boarded up windows and plain architecture. There were lots of cracks and holes in the walls, but nothing I could squeeze through.

I slowly made my way around the front again, very, very carefully checking out the front entrance, paw on my gun, cursing loudly one last time when I saw those doors, too, had been completely boarded up.

"Of all the god damn stupid luck," I said aloud, frowning. The sun was dipping between two large hills far off in the horizon, and my shadow seemed to stretch for miles. "I hate my life," I grumbled, pacing around the empty, broken parking lot contemplating what to do.

The main doors were inset quite a bit, at the top of twenty stairs or so, beneath an impressive, broken archway with words that read, "Science Building," which unfortunately was no help. At least I knew I was on some large university campus though. I had only two options by this point: set up camp next to the doors to best avoid being seen, or continue on in hopes of finding something better. But when I looked out over the dead, hilly landscape, I saw nothing in the way of undamaged buildings. Just more rocks, dirt, and radiation, and across from the building was a large field with a few black trees sticking up, a road separating it from the small parking lot. There weren't even any houses surrounding this school that had survived enough to make for a good camp, just a bunch of wood beams and destroyed siding sticking up from the dirt like a massive bone yard of homes.

Perhaps that's what I'd call this place, Bone Yard, and behind me was Bone Yard University.

With a heavy sigh, I began to slowly wander the empty streets of Bone Yard, furniture thrown about the ruins like someone played a giant game of jacks. Nothing from the street looked worth investigating, and I imagined nothing I could find I'd be able to carry around with me. Everything looked pretty stripped, so it was doubtful I'd find any guns or any ammunition, and judging by the area and how it probably was in the past, not many of these long-dead residents likely had guns to begin with. My clothes were ratty and smelly, but nothing in these old, destroyed dressers would be worth rifling through. Most I could hope for was finding some caps, and that was hardly a sure thing either. Garbage was strewn about, dozens of old rusty cans, Nuka bottles and food containers, as well as a countless amount of nameless garbage and papers and books. And of course mattresses and rubble lay about everywhere.

But not one of these places looked suitable to set up camp. Off in the distance, perhaps a few blocks away, I noticed sticking up above the rest of these homes was another large building similar to the large one still intact, except it had been destroyed. Perhaps I'd make my way over there. Of course I was used to sleeping on rocks, but most of what I'd be sleeping on in this place was jagged and sharp, and way too plentiful to simply sweep away. I'd probably just end up crashing somewhere in the middle of the road, where it was most flat, not even with a campfire. I didn't have many supplies with me to build a fire anyway, besides a small piece of flint I'd been carrying with me for nearly a year now, worn down to next to nothing. There was plenty of wood around, but not much to help it light. I sighed again and stopped in the middle of an intersection, Bone Yard University only a block or two away, but easily in view between the skeletons of homes.

I then glanced at the other building, presumably another university building, and with yet another heavy sigh, I decided to finally check it out. I reached it in just a couple minutes, but upon closer inspection it hardly seemed worth the energy. Like everything else around it, though this building had a couple picnic tables and trees and a large field surrounding it, it was completely destroyed. Rubble lay strewn about, mostly contained inside its thick, concrete walls. Glass and debris was everywhere, and I was almost afraid to step into the ruins, but the various pieces of furniture sticking up from the rubble was just too enticing.

The first such piece was a large desk, but its contents were mostly burnt papers and books, and various school supplies like pencils and paperclips. I did find a couple bobby pins, though, which I pocketed quickly, but not much else excited me. I then moved around the rubble with extreme care, climbing up to what was left of a second floor, which was holding onto a main support beam with dear life. There were more chairs and desks amazingly preserved on this large piece of floor which hadn't yet fallen, but as predicted, nothing useful on the damn shelves, nor in the ruined desks. Whoever had come here before me clearly stripped this place clean. And who could blame them.

And so I hopped down off my perch, having seen enough of the stark scenery out the broken windows, meandering through the ruins with nothing else left to do. I'd definitely have to set up camp soon, or at the very least find someplace relatively sheltered to hunker down in.

But when I took my next step forward, idly looking about, my footpaw came down upon something hard and flat and metallic, plus sounding a bit hollow. When I looked down, I noticed I was standing on an old rusty door, made to look like a part of the floor, with only a bit of rubble scattered across it, and more interestingly, some scratch marks . My heart jumped, and I immediately began searching for a metal rod or a crowbar or something to use to pry the lid off with, which someone had clearly done dozens of times before me. After just a minute of searching, I saw a dented footlocker nearby, under a smashed desk. The footlocker had clearly been used and looked into more than once, as evidenced by the obvious lack of debris and dust upon it, plus it was open a crack.

"Holy shit," I said, peering inside, which looked relatively clean. This was very exciting. I nabbed the crowbar and instinctively looked around, making sure nobody saw me, then bounced back over to the old trapdoor. With all my might, I jammed the crowbar in and lifted the lid with surprising ease, though it was a lot heavier than I expected. I opened it only half way then used a piece of wood to prop the door up, quickly replacing the crowbar after. I didn't particularly want to let people know I was here, whether they belonged or not.

But clearly people visited this place regularly, coming and going probably more often than I imagined, and I just had to hope they weren't hostile. Hostile meaning won't shoot me on sight, as opposed to just kicking me out. But I figured if I could make it out of any situation alive, then luck was on my side.

Anyway, I squeezed through the hole I made for myself, which was easier said than done, and carefully descended the rusty, damp staircase, being sure to close the door behind me again, so as to not attract any unwanted attention. My footpaws, not surprisingly, came upon water at the bottom, which sickened me both as an otter, and as a person in general. Luckily, it seemed whoever frequented this tunnel had put down some boards nearby, which I was quick to stand upon. If I recalled Bone Yard's geography correctly, the tunnel leading away from the staircase led toward the Science Building, which had me pretty excited.

Naturally I was curious to see what went the other way, behind the stairs, but there weren't any lights trailing in that direction, and whoever had set up these boards clearly didn't bother putting any that way either, so I figured it was either a dead end, or something truly nasty. For now, I simply followed the tunnel, which was dark, wet, and extremely smelly - this smell was probably going to be infused in my fur by the time I was done. But fortunately there was adequate lighting along the various pipes surrounding me, spread sporadically along the way, so I could at least stay dry. They were no doubt leading me toward a hub of some kind, but I really just hoped it just led me to the intact university building. Either way, I was no longer outside, and that much closer to a good night's sleep, and with any luck, some food.

I travelled what I assumed was old steam tunnels for a good, long while, not really sure if it was ever going to end, and though they did split off at various points, I figured by this point, exploring would have to wait until tomorrow. I just kept following the lights until finally I reached the last one, apparently the string of them just ending right there. But of course I was more clever than that, and upon looking up, I saw the string of lights leading upward, up a square tunnel with a ladder, and I was quite excited to see where it led. And to get out of this stench.

Quickly I climbed up the rusty ladder, feeling the weariness in my muscles and bones now from a long, hungry day, and after pushing open the small heavy door and finally emerging, I had to stop for a moment to catch my breath. Panting more heavily than I care to admit, I glanced around to see where I was; the room was dark, but from what I could make out, I was in something like an engine or a boiler room, lit only by the few lights attached to a small generator next to the trapdoor.

"Where the fuck am I?" I asked myself, voice echoing against the walls. Considering how far I'd travelled and what was around me, though, I could only assume I was finally in the school, the so-called Science Building. This was presumably the basement, since there weren't any windows around.

And so after regaining my breath, I began my quiet search for a good place to rest, but more importantly, for some lousy two-hundred-year-old food.

The search, to start, wasn't easy going, since I didn't know my way around and my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dark, but after wandering through the mass of machinery and enormous pipes for a long while, I found some stairs and ventured forward, clinging to the railing for dear life. With every footstep I felt the stairs becoming looser and looser, as if no one had touched them for so long, any amount of movement now was unbearable. What frightened me more was when I glanced at the wall where the screws were, I noticed the rusty metal bits practically falling out already, but having made it half way, it was too late to turn back. While trying to make as little noise as possible, I at last made it to the top of the stairs, where my shaky paw gripped the doorknob and as luck would have it, it turned.

Quietly and carefully, I pushed the door open, happy to leave the mechanical room behind and step onto solid ground, all while listening closely for signs of life. Fortunately, there were not yet any, but that didn't mean they weren't all asleep. Could all be out, too, which would make me too paranoid to sleep. Ugh.

It was difficult being totally silent, though, when the dusty, dark corridors were filled with so much debris, just like the rest of the Wasteland. Old charred books and papers and binders were thrown about, as well as some tables and equipment all over the place. The walls were all cracked and broken, and if I wasn't inadvertently kicking chunks of tile about, then I was kicking clumps of concrete or enormous chips of paint and plaster. Several times I heard the deafening crack of breaking glass, which was aplenty, since most of the doors I walked past were broken beyond repair.

I poked my head into some of the classrooms, not surprised to see tables and chairs thrown around messily, as well as books and shelves knocked over and spread across the room. The chalkboards were of course broken, many of them with stuff still written upon them, which surprised me. When I looked closer at the writing, it didn't look like anything any raider or wanderer would write, but more like old lessons I wasn't anywhere close to understanding.

It wasn't that I was particularly dumb or anything. I knew two plus two equals four, but if you wanted me to solve some complex mathematical or scientific equation, I'd be more lost than a blind Deathclaw. Never found much use for learning that stuff, anyway, not in my line of work. It was great if you planned on doing research or something in one of the bigger cities, like Ronto, or if you wanted help a lot of people, but for me, for a wandering Wastelander, books and science were only good for lighting fires.

Anyway, as predicted, the classrooms held nothing of interest, and as tempted as I was to try writing something on the chalkboards, I really didn't want to leave my mark here, at least not yet. Perhaps on my way out, that is if I survived until morning. For now, I was searching for the cafeteria or common area, or something of the like that was sure to have food. Hopefully the food wasn't all that irradiated, either, since apparently the building had stood up so well against the bombs.

After wandering through the classrooms fruitlessly, stumbling over dozens of old books and scientific equipment - Bunsen burners and test tubes and the sort - I came upon some stairs, which I climbed silently, though I felt like I was alone in this building. I quickly rummaged through a garbage can as I passed it, thinking to myself that seemed awfully desperate even for me. There was nothing, as it happens, but that didn't stop me from fumbling through the next one, either. Still nothing.

Mostly ignoring the classrooms now, I at last came upon a set of double doors on the second floor with the word "teria" printed above it, so I figured I was on the right track. But when I opened the door, my heart suddenly stopped and I froze immediately. Inside this enormous chamber was a bunch of long tables set up with chairs and vending machines all over the place, but more striking was the large mass of people sitting around quietly, listening to a soft-spoken Rough Collie explain something on a mobile chalkboard. She looked up at me just as I'd entered, and within seconds, the whole group was staring at me.

"Oh fuck," I said to myself, not out loud, but just stared back, seeing who would make the first move. Sweat was pouring down my back now. They didn't look like raiders, least not any of the ones I'd seen, and they sure as hell didn't attack me. I think they were just as shocked to see me enter as I was to see them sitting there. But when I saw a few small energy weapons on their tables and a bunch wearing much the same clothes the group the tiger had attacked were wearing, I knew I was in the wrong place.

I immediately bolted.

As the door slammed behind me, I heard the massive clamour of the gang coming after me, chairs and tables being thrown back as they stood, and their loud cries as I ran. Never had I run so quickly. Just as I reached the corner, I felt the hot buzz of laser-fire zip past my head, then the loud crackling as it struck the wall. I darted quickly around the corner just as a green blast of plasma exploded into the wall next to me, nearly grazing my tail. I ran and ran as fast as my poor tired feet could take me, and again narrowly avoided death as I leapt toward the stairs to my right.

Tumbling down the stairs, the wind got knocked out of me as I struck the wall, but the adrenaline got me back up again and down the other staircase, gripping the railing so as to not fall over again. Unfortunately these weren't the stairs I'd taken to get up there to begin with, so finding the entrance to the basement would prove more difficult. But I had to keep moving, and when I realized this stairwell continued down, I, too, went down. In retrospect, probably not the smartest move, but I really just wanted to get as much distance between myself and my pursuers, who at this point had to be Automatons.

My first instinct was usually to fight back, especially now that I had a brand new pistol, but against a group that large and a group that insane, I figured my best bet was to just book it. But as I ran through the hallway, no idea where I was headed now, I quickly began to realize I was cornering myself, and would soon be killed, taken captive, or something far worse I couldn't yet imagine.

All throughout the halls I heard the Automatons shouting, either barking orders at one another or threatening me in some way. Whichever the case, I was screwed. They no doubt knew the layout of this building and all its secret passages and tunnels like the backs of their paws, meanwhile I'd just stupidly stumbled in.

When I came up to another stairwell, though, I saw for a second a glimmer of hope; another way up! But before taking a couple steps upward, I already heard the noise of angry Automatons coming after me, and even thought I heard the droning voice of a Protectron or two, too. Needless to say, I took off again, realizing with every step, I was coming closer and closer to being trapped, and that much closer to my own death.

Having said that, as I ran toward the other end of the hall, eyeing a door I thought I'd try, until I suddenly heard the sharp beep_ing of a familiar device below me: I'd triggered a mine. Bursting with adrenaline, I took what felt like two massive steps and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling an intense pain searing at my legs, back and arms. Obviously not a frag mine, I was thrown into the wall to my left while surrounded by a burning green substance, hitting my head hard, and could only surmise it was some sort of plasma mine, which until now I didn't even know existed. Next I hit the hard, dusty floor with a loud _thump, hearing an intense crack in my elbow as it struck the floor. I groaned loudly and shook as I smelled burnt fur and flesh, but had to keep going, fighting through the nasty pain.

But I found I couldn't get up, though I was reasonably sure my legs weren't broken. Instead they were just covered in dozens of cuts and severe burns the likes of which I'd never suffered, but still I crawled toward that door as if it was my one and only saviour, desperate to reach it.

And at long, painful last, I made it, taking way longer than I wanted to. With no idea whether or not anybody was watching me now, I lifted myself painfully and turned the knob, thanking god it wasn't locked, and stumbled in. I kicked the door shut behind me and with some effort, managed to lock it, too, for all the good it would do me.

The room was dark, but the cracks between the boards in the windows next to the high ceiling shed some light, which was probably moonlight by this point. Dust motes glittered in the small moonbeams while I slowly made my way to the corner, hobbling over on my poor feet and using the fallen desks and chairs for support, most of which had been completely torn out of the ground.

I noticed, though, as improbable as it seemed, a bag near the corner by the last table, covered in debris but looking as if it was still full. Desperate, I unzipped the black bag and saw a bunch of old books crammed beside what appeared to be armour of some kind. Excited and somewhat happy to have actually found this, though unable to express that, I pulled the armour out and took a better look.

It sure as hell wasn't metal armour, and would hardly cover me up if I put it on, but it looked like it might have provided me with some protection, more especially against energy weapons. Much to my surprise, the armour was thickly padded on the inside, but I had to remove my bag to put it on.

I could hear the Automatons outside in the hall, and if they didn't know I'd slipped into this room, they would soon figure it out, no doubt realizing I'd set off one of their mines.

After putting the armour on, tying it firmly against my chest, I next pulled a helmet out, too, which was big and hard and had some sort of grill in front of where my maw would be, though I couldn't imagine what sort of protection that would provide. Satisfied with my find, though, I opened the bag wider to see what other treasures it contained in my last minutes on this earth. After strapping the helmet to my head, which fit amazingly well, I then pulled out a half-flat, elongated brown ball with heavy stitching along one side, but couldn't find much use for it. I tossed it aside, nervous when I heard my enemy's voices nearer my room - I think they were checking each one now - and pulled out what seemed to be a short pair of pants with thick padding on the thighs and a bit on the sides, but I couldn't see how these could stand up to any sort of weapons fire.

Unfortunately I wouldn't have enough time to find out, since shortly after pulling out the padded shorts I heard a hard rattling at the door in the corner. They knew I was in here, since a couple of them felt compelled to shout that at me, and would probably be bursting in any second.

Well, this was it, James. End of the line. I had dozens of regrets, but in that moment I couldn't seem to think of any. I suppose killing that otter was one of them, though he was clearly psychotic. Oddly, I found myself regretting not getting to know that monster tiger a bit better, though I had no reason to want to. I'd tried to mug him, for god's sake, which led to him thoroughly beating the shit out of me, and yet he seemed so fascinating. Maybe because he was old and clearly weathered, I figured he'd have hundreds of stories to tell. I mean...no one that big exists in the Wasteland unless they're a mutant, and I had a feeling he wasn't. Not that it really mattered now, since I was about to be turned into a pile of goo by an angry gang of energy-wielding robot wannabes.

Suddenly, the glass of the door's window shattered, snapping me back to reality. My head still spinning and ringing madly from the explosion - or was it my collision with the wall? - I managed to get my paw on my hip and draw a pistol, not entirely clear on which one. Nevertheless, I aimed that gun straight at the window and as soon as someone poked their head through, I fired away.

Incredibly, despite the dizziness and massive headache, I'd easily blown the Automaton's head clean off in a mess of blood, skull, brains, and bright green goo from the plasma pistol. Shocked, I just stared at the colourful blood-painting on the wall by the door, amazed at my new weapon. Of course, it didn't help me much when I watched two high-tech-looking grenades suddenly jump into the room with me, which instantly made my heart stop.

The rest then flew by in a slow-motion blur, and yet it all happened faster than I could recall. The moment I saw the grenades hop in, there was a moment where I had to process exactly what I was seeing, then process what would happen seconds later, then figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do now, then act even faster.

I lunged forward with as much power as I could possibly muster, moving faster than I'd ever moved in my entire life, and miraculously reached a relatively well-preserved tabletop which had clearly been torn off by some force or another. Either way, I held onto it tight and lifted it quickly, crouching into as small a ball as I could behind it, hoping the light armour would provide at least some protection, if from nothing else than from the powerful impact I was about to feel. Or not feel, as it happened.

Less than a second after I took cover behind the tabletop, which I was unfortunately holding onto with my bare paws, two grenades - plasma grenades, I discovered - simultaneously detonated, burning the fur and most of the flesh, or so it felt, off my fingers and my tail, as well as sending thousands of razor-like splinters into my face, my arms, my chest, and pretty much everywhere else. After the wooden tabletop shattered, the green, flaming energy seared parts of my clothes off and tore at the skin on my legs and midsection, which I only felt for a moment before suddenly slamming into the wall behind me.

I think I officially stopped breathing, too, since immediately after hitting the wall, my entire world went entirely black. And entirely silent. Not even a deafening ring in my poor little ears, which was surprising. Usually that sort of thing rattles the shit out of your brain and gives you a nasty headache for weeks, and a ringing that never really stops. But not in this instance. In this case, everything was deathly silent, and deathly dark, and I couldn't feel a single thing. You'd expect me to be hurting pretty much all over, but I suppose I was lucky in being totally numb. I wasn't even sure how conscious I was, for that matter, but I suppose it didn't really matter much. There was a particular serenity to that dark, cold moment, like I'd found peace and went to someplace that wasn't quite Heaven, but wasn't really Hell, either.

Unfortunately, what felt like just moments after being burned, splintered, and smashed against a wall, I felt an enormously intense pain, nearly impossible to describe, tear through my whole body, my vision extremely blurred and my mind whirling. I think I was phasing in and out of consciousness, this pain seeming the only constant, as well as strange, almost indistinguishable noises coming from all around me.

It sounded like...yelling. A lot of yelling, and more weapons fire. It wasn't being aimed toward me, though, which I suppose was good, though from what I could remember seeing, it was sure as hell close to me. Regardless, the Automatons were either celebrating their latest victory, or fighting off another enemy. I couldn't imagine another fur stupid enough to wander into this place, but I probably wasn't the first one.

Either way, it took a while and a lot of concentration - which hurt a lot, by the way - but I think the screaming and clamour happening around me was a fight. Maybe not for me, but a fight all the same, and whoever it was the Automatons were against, he was fucking winning.

Eventually, though, when the fighting seemed to fade, so, too, did my vision, my hearing, and luckily, my pain and just about everything else that goes with being alive. My hunger, for instance, faded, which was probably one of the greatest feelings ever.

Actually, one of the greatest feelings ever was me being carried away from all of the pain and the sorrow and the darkness around me by a mysterious being of light, such as that one in my recurring dream. Which, as it happens, I experienced yet again, so I suppose that meant I wasn't dead.

I couldn't remember much of the dream after waking up, but I remembered the warmth above all else. I remembered being carried in the arms of this angel, the being feeling so much more real than it ever had.

I looked up at it, up at this golden behemoth, hoping to catch a glimpse of its glowing face, and unlike every dream before it, I saw it. I actually saw it. It wasn't clear, but it was certainly there. It was a male, this face, not smiling like in my dreams, but looking determined. I was fading in and out of consciousness still, unable to move yet clearly I was going somewhere, no doubt held in his arms. I clung to my saviour of light, feeling his strong, powerful muscles against my tiny paws, his biceps amazingly large and his chest equally as strong.

I could remember uttering something about the golden behemoth, something nice, but I think it ended up coming out as just inane ramblings of a half-dead otter, nearly blown to pieces by a mine and two grenades. After gripping those bright, warm muscles one last time, I was unfortunately met once more with that horrid, numbing darkness, which only then made me realize I'd been feeling pain, yet was somehow able to ignore it. For now I had to rest.

When I opened my eyes again, my head began to pound like mad, my body burned all over like a nasty sunburn, and my clothes and new-found armour was gone. In my dream, the golden behemoth was carrying me to safety, away from all my troubles, and yet it seemed I was still inside the building, lying on the floor with nothing on. Clearly the one who'd been fighting after I got the shit blown out of me had been defeated, and I was probably now in some Automaton holding cell. But why hold me?

If I was to be a prisoner, then why lob a couple fucking grenades in the room? They could have stormed me easily and just taken me. I suppose grenades ensured almost no loss of life on their side, and if I died, all the better. Or perhaps they were so impressed I was still alive after that, they decided to keep me around. Maybe they wanted to reprogram me (or "brainwash" to the rest of the Wasteland) so I could fight for them instead. I was flattered, of course, but not interested. Surely they'd understand.

When I at last tried to move, an even greater pain shot up my back and my shoulders and arms and neck, and pretty much every other muscle required in getting up. And so I lay back down with a heavy groan, closing my eyes and trying not to concentrate on the lesser, though still intense, pain all throughout my body, as well as a great deal on my body. My face felt as if it was on fire, which I assumed was either because of the grenades or the fine showering of splinters. Or both. My tail hurt a lot, too, which was unfortunate, because it was one of my favourite features. The knuckles on my paws burned like crazy, which I knew was from the damn plasma. But I guess all-in-all, it was good I was still alive.

I tried moving again, this time rolling around onto my side, but was met with that unfortunate, incredible back pain again, and every time my body throbbed, it made my headache worse, too. If I had my bag with me, I could pump myself so full of Med-X and Stimpaks I wouldn't feel a damn thing, but in my brief glance around the room, I didn't see it anywhere. Didn't see my clothes, either.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over me, and I turned my neck painfully to see who it was, which made me groan unfortunately. "Ugh, fuck," I said, closing my eyes and resting again. All I managed to see was a couple faintly-glowing pendants hanging off a chain around the shadow's neck.

"You're lucky to be alive," a deep, familiar voice said. When I looked up, I saw a monster of a tiger kneeling beside me.

"Holy shit," I said in surprise, though I didn't physically react that much. "What..? What the fuck's...going on?" I asked, curious why he was here, and how he found me. I was trying to look about some more, despite the pain, but he put one of his massive paws down on my chest and carefully pushed me back.

"Just rest," he said, his powerful paw surprisingly gentle. He let it rest upon my chest, which was re-wrapped in bandages it seemed. Either that, or my old ones had held up that well against the explosion.

I looked at the tiger again, surprised still by his kindness. This was not the same tiger who'd savagely beaten me before, nor the one who'd killed those Automatons in Fuselage. Was he the one who'd beaten all these Automatons, too? I found it hard to believe, but I suppose if anyone could have done it, it'd be him.

"What's going on?" I asked, finally letting myself rest. He at last removed his paw. "Did you...save me?" I'd have preferred it be someone else, but I guess out here, you can't be too picky.

"Inadvertently," admitted the tiger. "You're lucky I came by when I did."

I just scoffed. "Not lucky enough to prevent getting blown half way to fuck-town."

The tiger shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "But you are alive, which would have been different had I not shown up."

He had a point, and I didn't feel much like arguing. "What happened to my bag?" I asked. "I've got some medical supplies."

"Any more Med-X's in your veins and you'll be dead."

I'd almost prefer that. "Why did you save me?" I asked, turning to look at the tiger again. His face was old and weathered and beaten, like he'd seen the Wasteland a thousand times over and it left him exhausted. I was surprised, even more so, he was as big as he was, not just for surviving, but for surviving for what was obviously so many years, probably even more than the average fur. Hell, I didn't even know muscles could grow as big as his, and yet he was bulging in so many places. Especially his belly, the fat old monster tiger. Still...I was grateful to be alive, despite the pain. When were these damn Med-X's going to kick in?

"Like I said," explained the tiger, "it was a coincidence I saved your life. Right place at the right time, I suppose."

I would have frowned if it didn't hurt so much. "So then why the hell are you here? How'd you find this place?"

"Well if you hadn't left a trail a mile long," laughed the tiger, "I suppose it would have taken me longer."

This time I did frown.

"In all seriousness, I've been searching, or hunting down the Automatons, and I knew they had a base of operations somewhere near Fuselage."

"Hunting? Why? They kill your family or something?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"So your mission was a success, then. What now?"

"What now?" said the tiger, apparently astounded by my question. He said it like it was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "I keep going, that's what."

"I don't understand. Going where? What're you doing?"

The tiger put a paw on my chest again, I think to calm me down. "There are thousands of Automatons out there, and dozens of factions and sections and groups, which I've been taking out one by one before hitting Ronto."

"Ronto?"

The tiger nodded. "You know what Ronto is?"

"Yeah, the big fucking city somewhere south of here. What's there? Like, their main headquarters?"

The tiger nodded again. "They occupy a relatively large section of the city, holed up in a place they call Union. If I have any hope of defeating them all, it'll be in Ronto."

I just scoffed. "If there are two dozen of them in a single faction, then there must be hundreds in the big city. You seriously think you can kill them all?"

"Not all, no. Just Frost. He's their so-called Prophet, and the only one of the Automatons to answer directly to Hyperion. Or so they say."

"I thought his name was Hyperlink?"

Lloyd laughed mockingly at the idea. "That's what he wants the world to call him, to remember him by. A new name for a new age, they say. He'd probably tell you it was a name given to him by Hyperion."

"Fucking psychos," I spat, resting once more. My neck was still hurting quite a bit. I heard the tiger laugh slightly, though it could have been a bit of the building crumbling, too. Hard to tell. "So where are you headed next?" I asked him, moving my head to look at him, despite the pain.

"South," was all he said. Perhaps he didn't know where to look next, but hoped he'd hear something from the people.

I just grunted a short response, then let myself rest once more, sighing heavily in my sharp, throbbing bodily pain, wishing it'd go away. For now the two of us sat - I was lying down - in each other's company in complete silence, listening to the creepy ambiance of the crumbling building, as well as the faint sound of crickets outside. It was then I realized there were larger windows in this room and no tables, which meant after the explosion, I'd at some point been carried out and moved to one of the upper floors, presumably the ground floor.

"So what's your name?" the tiger suddenly asked, who was still on his knees beside me. I looked up at him, somewhat surprised he wanted to know. I didn't imagine we'd be seeing much of each other after this, though it was kind of him to stay with me until I started feeling better. It then dawned on me he probably used his own Med-X to help me, too.

"James," I said, turning away. "James Grayson. What's yours?" I was asking merely to be polite, not because I wanted to spend extraordinary amounts of time with him. I'd pay him back for the Med-X then hopefully be on my way, when I was well enough to move.

"Lloyd Thompson," he said somewhat proudly, like that name was supposed to mean something.

I didn't respond, but instead kept silent for a long while. I was never particularly good at introductions, especially when I'd already met the person. In fact, when I thought about it, I hadn't met too many furs out there in the Wasteland, instead preferring to be the lone wolf, so to speak, rather than travel with friends. I never had a companion with me, and didn't really have any friends, anyway. I'd met some nice people along the way, but for the most part, my entire journey since leaving my adopted parents had been made alone. I had to admit, though, despite preferring to travel by myself, I was sure as hell glad Lloyd had shown up when he did. Could've shown up sooner, but I guess better late than never.

"Thank you," I said after a long silence. "For, um...you know. Saving me."

The tiger looked at me, as if expecting more. I knew what he wanted to hear, and I really didn't want to say it. To be honest, I didn't even want to thank him, either.

Then I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes, looking away from him. "And...I'm sorry, okay? For fucking mugging you."

"You didn't mug me," said Lloyd. "Attempted mugging."

"Fuck you," I frowned.

Suddenly, I heard a few horrid cries from somewhere not in this room, and it alerted the tiger, too. It seemed as if he knew precisely what it was, though, and had been waiting for it.

"What the fuck was that?" I asked, heart racing. I tried to get up, but it hurt too much. Fortunately, with that tiny burst of frightened adrenaline, I was able to turn myself to my side a bit, propping myself up with one paw. My back and head ached like crazy, but it was bearable. I think the Med-X was starting to kick in. When I watched the tiger get up, I quickly realized I still had no clothes on, though my body was almost entirely bandaged, but noticed a pile of stuff nearby, hopefully mine.

"Prisoners," said Lloyd with a bone-chilling smile. "They're going to tell me where I have to go next."

"Huh?" I groaned, trying to get up. For some reason I felt compelled to follow, though admittedly I was a little bit frightened. More than that, though, I just wanted to get my clothes on.

Lloyd picked up his bag from near the door and dug into it, pulling something out. He tossed it at me quickly then turned to the door, pausing before exiting. "Eat something," he said. "You'll feel better. Then you can join me in the cafeteria if you please."

On my paws and knees, half way to getting up, I stared at the Cram sitting in front of me, then up to the tiger and scoffed. "Thanks," I said, not trying to sound too grateful, though he likely knew how hungry I was. When I picked up the can, Lloyd smirked and left, and I was admittedly very curious to see where he was going and what he intended to do. But for now I tore off the lid of the Cram and shoved nearly the whole thing in my maw, cringing at the sour taste of the two-hundred-year-old meat, but god did my stomach enjoy it. I finished off the last bit more voraciously than I care to admit, then let it sit for a while before finally trying to get up, groaning through the pain.

My legs and arms felt extremely sore and very tired, but at long last I managed to get up onto my own two footpaws, trembling a bit in the empty and dusty classroom. I was breathing quite heavily as I steadied myself, legs shaking more than anything. When I turned and took a step toward what I assumed was all my stuff, my leg nearly gave out entirely, but I managed to recover before falling over. Down on just one knee, I pushed myself up with shaky arms and trembling legs, cursing loudly as I lifted my heavy body onto my weak legs, fortunately able to take a better second step.

When I finally reached my gear, I suddenly collapsed in front of it, down onto my paws and knees, then began sifting through it to make sure it was all still there. In my bag was all my ammo and my medical supplies, and luckily all my weapons were still attached to my weapons belt. Of course my pants and shirt were still there, plus my anklet, and my bandana, too, which I cared more about than my ratty old clothes.

My bandana, as it happens, was a gift from my adoptive parents. It wasn't the greatest of gifts, but out there anything that didn't kill you was a good gift. It was given to me when I was about ten years old, old enough, I was told, to start working with the brahmin and helping in the fields. Most times I just wore the dark purple cloth around my head to collect sweat, but especially when working with the brahmin, I wore it around my nose. At any rate, as silly as it may sound, it was one of my cherished possessions, that and Lucky.

I took Lucky from the mercenary my adoptive parents hired to protect our farmstead when I was twelve, only a few days after my father told me about what had happened to my decimated village. But of course being twelve and having just hit puberty, I was angry and vengeful, and I had to check it out for myself. And of course when I got there, all that was left was ruined buildings and some skeletons, each one as barren as their respective homes. That was where I'd met that trader, who told me it was the slavers. I'd spent days rummaging around, trying desperately to find any sign of my home or my real parents, anything I could take with me to keep as a memory. Anything besides my dreams, that is.

When my adoptive father came to get me, I told him about my dreams and he explained the lack of remains, saying most of the villagers had been taken as slaves, as the Shepherd had told me days before. He said I'd have been taken, too, except some stranger - who I presumed was the Golden Behemoth from my dreams - had dropped me off at their farm at night when I was no older than two, leaving me upon their porch. I was told their first mercenary, who was dead now, had brought me into them, saying all he knew of the stranger was he'd come from Boulder and left me there.

It was all very mysterious at the time, but upon learning this, and of course learning they weren't my real parents, I kept Lucky and at the age of twelve, took off into the Wasteland on my own, seeking revenge against those who'd done that to me. It didn't take long, however, for me to get lost and nearly die of starvation, quickly forgetting about my mission and focusing more on surviving. I haven't ever been back there, either, though I admit I'd thought about it countless times, just to see how things have changed. Naturally I assumed my parents were dead and the farm ransacked, but a part of me still thought they were alive and well, and perhaps a more naive part of me thought they still thought about me, and searched for me and waited for me to return.

But I'd wandered so far and so aimlessly, I wouldn't be able to make it back to them if I tried. The first few days of my journey were incredibly rough, having no real idea of what I was doing or where I was going. But I was young and stubborn, rejecting all my adoptive family had given me and determined to make it on my own. In retrospect, it was a foolish choice, since most days I thought were going to be my last. I sure as hell hadn't appreciated what real hunger was until a week after leaving the farm, only days after running out of food.

A few days later, I'd learned firsthand what life was truly like in the Wasteland when I'd fired Lucky for the first time, and I had to watch as the life of some nameless, innocent traveller slowly faded from his eyes. I took his food and ammo and caps, of course, but couldn't eat anything for days after, racked with fear and guilt. But eventually the pain became too great and I ate his food, barely able to hold it down. For weeks I contemplated suicide, but in the end I was never able to do it. Instead I managed to press on, telling myself I would never kill again, but it certainly didn't take long before that became necessary once more, and not much longer before it became the norm.

Like I said, though, I never liked killing. I never wanted to kill, but I learned very quickly the necessity of it, not for robbing people - such as what raiders are accustomed to - but for my own survival. Most enemies out there were just as desperate as I was, but they, unfortunately, were willing to take lives in order to survive, whereas I only took life to preserve my own. And if I made a few caps in the process, all the better.

When it came down to it, though, most people I met in the Wasteland, however desperate or insane, were good people, only trying to survive just as much as I was. It tended to be the ones in large groups who gave me trouble, since their odds of killing me increased with every extra gun. And yet somehow I'd managed to survive, taking far more lives than I'd ever wanted to. And through it all, my bandana was a reliable companion, keeping my head cool or my face sheltered or my neck protected, while Lucky provided me the ammunition.

When I finally snapped out of my reverie, I sighed heavily and gave my dark purple bandana a hearty squeeze with both paws before tying it around my neck, fitting it snug against my fur. On my knees still, I picked up my old, smelly shirt, formerly long-sleeved - it was down to half a sleeve on the right, the left torn right off - and threw it on, fixing the bandana when my head popped through. With great pain I stood up, back tight enough to make it difficult to breath, and picked up my pants, groaning as the pain shot up from my tail. But at long, horrible last, I managed to slip into both legs of the desert camos - the left leg torn about half way toward my knee - and tighten the belt, which fortunately still had my weapons and holsters attached to it. The final item to put on was my beaded anklet, which I kissed softly and tied around my left ankle, shaking my paw a bit to make sure it would stay.

As my pants sagged a bit from the weight of the guns, figuring I needed a proper gun belt at some point, I picked up my small bag with a bit of effort and managed to strap it to my back, the buckles fastening perfectly below my chest. I was ready to go, but when I suddenly heard a blood-curdling scream, which admittedly made me flinch, I was compelled to see what Lloyd was doing, perhaps against my better judgement.

I hobbled slowly into the hallway, using the ledges and walls for support, until I heard another pained cry come from where I'd first stumbled in on the Automatons, and I opened the door cautiously.

There were two naked Automatons tied to chairs, from what I could see behind the tiger, one male and one female. The smaller male to the right was all bloody and beaten, but clearly not dead. He simply twitched and groaned, and when I noticed the blood dripping off Lloyd's right fist, it was clear what was going on.

"What the hell're you doing?" I asked, walking in a bit further. The small Dalmatian had cuts and bruises and burns all over his body, while the collie next to him, while equally as naked, had none.

"They know the next closest faction," said Lloyd, wiping off his paw. He at some point had removed his fairly tight, army-green tanktop, revealing a large, white-furred belly, but very strong muscles all the same. The sweat dripping through his messy fur revealed his age somewhat, though I was never all that good at guessing ages. "And they're going to tell me where it is."

I was starting to think Lloyd Thompson was perhaps a bit more crazy than I'd initially thought, though he was kind enough to save me. Then again, when I thought about it, I think it was more of him being in the right place at the right time (like he said) since it was clear he came here for the Automatons, not for me. But still, he didn't have to help me at all, especially after I tried to rob him, so he couldn't have been that bad.

"I will never betray my Lord Hyperion," said the female. "We are Automatons. Our electronic souls have ascended from our fleshy bodies into something far greater than you will ever realize. We... We are made of sterner stuff."

"I think your friend here would disagree," said Lloyd as he violently pulled the Dalmatian's head up. "I don't see any metal. There are no electronics in there, or wires, or sensor modules, or anything like that. He's flesh and bone, just like you, just like me. And he'll be dead if you don't tell me what I want to know."

"We cannot die," said the collie. "We can only join our Lord Hyperion in the Great Mainframe. "

"Are you kidding me?" I laughed, stepping in.

"You mock my words?"

"I knew you guys were insane, but fuck. You know I trashed a Protectron a yesterday? Has he joined the Great Mainframe, too?"

The collie frowned furiously at me. "Indeed," she scowled. "A tragic loss, but his death only serves to make Lord Hyperion stronger as their electronic souls unite in the Mainframe."

Finally Lloyd looked over at me, checking me out from head to toe. "Going somewhere?" he asked, evidently ignoring the collie now.

"Uh," I started, his huge muscles twitching as he glanced at me. "I was gonna take off."

"In that condition?"

I frowned a bit. "Yeah, so? I've survived worse." That wasn't entirely true. "Where's my armour, by the way?" I hadn't seen it with any of my regular gear.

"Back downstairs," the tiger told me, releasing the Dalmatian and finally turning around. "The helmet nearly cracked in two when you hit the wall, and the shoulder pads are cracked and useless. It would have done you no good against any normal weapons. Besides which, I needed to bandage you up."

I blushed a little, the thought of him stripping me and touching my body all over. Then I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts aside. "I appreciate it," I said as honestly as I could. "Truly, I do. But I've been on my own for too long to start travelling with someone now. Besides, I don't give a fuck about the Automatons. Just hafta avoid them better in the future, that's all. I'm good at avoiding things."

"I can't make you stay," the tiger shrugged. He then wiped some sweat off his brow, messing up his dull greying fur even more. "But you'd be wise to."

I frowned again. "I don't need you," I insisted, and yet I felt oddly compelled to stay. I turned to leave, though, but I wasn't quite able to hobble out. My muscles were still very sore, pain almost constantly shooting up my back, and I only just started to notice a sharp pain in my footpaw, as well as various other places around my body, and I imagined it was caused by the amazing amount of shrapnel created by the splintering table. I then sighed heavily and lowered my head. I really wasn't in much condition to be wandering the Wasteland again by myself, but I felt so uncomfortable with the thought of travelling with a partner.

"At least until you're feeling better," said Lloyd, grabbing a couple enormous nails from an open toolbox.

I wanted to ask him why he cared so much, but instead conceded and turned back around. I wore a face of disapproval, but before I was able to ask him why he cared anyway, I was shocked to see him lift the large nails - one in each paw - above his head, then drive them into the thighs of the collie.

The dog screamed horrifically as the nails pierced her flesh, drawing very little blood but no doubt creating a whole lot of pain. I was just glad I was on the tiger's side.

"You have very strong convictions," growled the tiger, speaking over the collie's terrible whimpers. "But your friend here, he's just a grunt, isn't he. He doesn't believe in Hyperion, not like you do. He just wanted food and a place to sleep. And yet his scent is all over you."

"Don't say a word!" screamed the collie to the Dalmatian, but the male could hardly look at his mate. He was crying and in great pain, as was she. "Lord Hyperion favours the strong," she begged. "There is a special place in his Mainframe for the bravest of Automatons."

"They aren't going to talk," I said, barely able to watch this event myself. I'd been tortured once before, so I never really had a taste for it. But it was nothing like this. Most I had to deal with was some punching, cutting, and a bit of humiliation by the hands of a few super mutants. The super mutants lacked any sort of finesse, and though you'd think Lloyd's tactics would be much the same, he clearly knew what he was doing. And I had to admit, he kind of frightened me.

"She won't talk," said Lloyd, hauling a heavy generator onto the table, nearly breaking its feeble legs. "But he will." The old tiger then lifted a couple huge wires off the floor with big metal clips on the end, something I think they used for starting cars back before the bombs fell. After glancing at the nails stuck in the collie's legs, then watching Lloyd trying to start the generator, I figured out very quickly what he was planning to do.

"You're fucking sick," I said, wrinkling my nose. "Is this how you found all these locations?"

"For the most part. These grunts usually don't know anything, they just follow the orders of their leaders, like this poor dog. But he knows. These two are too close for him not to know."

"Oh, so you don't actually know. Fucking brutal."

"We live in a brutal world," snarled Lloyd, causing me to jump. "Do you think they would do any different? Would you do any different?"

I didn't have an answer for the tiger, and I honestly couldn't say with absolute certainty I wouldn't do this any other way. But of course I wasn't ever sure I'd found myself in dire need of information, like he apparently was. He was on some sort of crazy quest to destroy the Automatons, every last one it seemed, and there wasn't going to be anything holding him back. It was difficult to imagine, seeing the anger and bloodlust in his eyes, the tiger could ever be as soft and kind as he was to me earlier.

Finally he got the generator going, which was loud and caused the table to shake like crazy. Amazingly, it stood up well to the intense vibrations. Lloyd then attached two ends of the cables to the generator and held the other two ends in his paws, now clearly aiming them toward the giant nails. He tapped the ends together, creating a loud snap and a spark, and before giving the collie or Dalmatian a chance to say anything, he clamped the ends to the nails.

Instantly the collie seized up, jaws slammed together and she growled and screamed through her teeth, until a second later she thrashed about and cried out with her maw wide open, arms and legs still firmly strapped to the chair. The Dalmatian simply watched, begging Lloyd to stop this, himself struggling to get free, if for no other reason than to save the collie.

At last, Lloyd released the clamps, letting the collie rest. She was breathing heavily and still twitching a bit, head dangling off her shoulders.

"One of you gonna tell me what I want to know?" he growled, staring more at the Dalmatian.

"I... I can't!" the spotted dog cried, though he knew it would be the only way to help his mate. He then glanced at her, regretful tears in his eyes.

Without saying a word, Lloyd reattached the clamps, and the collie went through the same terrible pain once more, screaming horrifically as she crashed about in her chair. The Dalmatian was crying something, possibly praying, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. It looked as if he was about to crack, but I was surprised to see neither of them caving in. They had strong wills, if nothing else.

Lloyd growled quietly, then picked up his shirt and his bag. "I'm done here," he said, and I almost couldn't believe he would leave her like that. "If you won't tell me, I'll have to find someone else who will."

"What..?" cried the Dalmatian. "N-no! You can't leave! Stop!"

But Lloyd continued, and though I wanted to go over and turn the generator off, I had a good idea of what would happen to me if I did.

Just as the tiger reached the doors, paw on the handle, the Dalmatian cried out, "I'll tell you! Just fucking stop this, please!"

Lloyd smirked, releasing the handle, turning slowly. He walked leisurely back toward the generator and put his paws on both clamps. "You have one chance to tell me," he growled, then released the clamps.

The collie suddenly stopped, groaning in what I imagined was excruciating pain, but looked half dead. Made me glad I didn't know anything.

"Southeast of here," cried the dog. "The exact location I can't tell you, but the locals will be able to help you. They're in one'a those vaults, y'know? Now, please, stop this..."

Lloyd nodded at the dog, then finally turned off the generator, and I had to admit, I was glad for it. The thing was scary enough as it was, much less what you can do with it. I'd always thought of these generators - these working generators - as good things, able to power small appliances and lights and the sort, even entire rooms. Never occurred to me that you could use them for something like this.

"You fool," growled the collie, glancing exhaustedly toward her mate.

"Indeed," said Lloyd, who grabbed a laser pistol from a table. When the pair looked up at him, he suddenly shot the Dalmatian right in the head, killing him instantly.

"No!" cried the collie, just as shocked as I was. "Fucking animal!"

"What the fuck're you doing?" I yelled, pulling Lloyd's arm back.

He seemed to ignore me, but threw the gun at the collie. "Now you know how it feels to lose a loved one," he said with amazing disdain in his voice.

"Fuck you!" snarled the dog, jumping in her chair, no doubt wanting to rip Lloyd's throat out. Tears were streaming down her dirty face as she barked and snarled, but Lloyd just ignored her.

Instead he was packing up his gear, not that he had much to pack up, and finally threw on his shirt. He took once last glance around to see if he had everything, then took toward the door, and I followed at least six feet behind. He grabbed his bloody metal mace before leaving, resting it on his shoulder for now as he walked away. He soon strapped it to his back, though, in a makeshift leather holster of poor quality.

"Aren't you going to free her?" I asked, holding the door open for myself.

"She'll be fine," he said. "Others will no doubt be along."

"You're not gonna kill them, too?" We were walking quite quickly through the empty hallways now, and I was surprised at the lack of corpses. Suppose they were all downstairs.

Lloyd shook his head. "No need."

I just scoffed as he practically ripped open the door to the boiler room, and we cautiously descended the rickety stairs. When at last we were at the bottom, I asked, "What need was there to kill that Dalmatian?"

"I had to teach her a lesson."

"What lesson? She's just a crazy Automaton. Everybody's a little crazy in the Wasteland, especially you."

"There are parts of my past and their past you know nothing about."

"I don't know anything about your past. Or theirs, for that matter."

"Then don't presume to understand my actions."

I just scoffed again. "You're kind one second, and fucking brutal the next. I don't presume to understand anything about you."

Lloyd didn't respond, but instead we concentrated on navigating the old steam tunnels, myself admittedly still very curious to see where these other tunnels went.

"What's your hurry?" I asked. "Why don't we look around a bit more down here?"

"There is no time to explore," said the tiger, which annoyed me. What the hell kind of hurry was he actually in? "Every day the Automatons grow in strength and numbers."

"Yeah, well that doesn't affect me in any way. I don't have to travel with you. In fact, I was only gonna stick around until I was feeling better, remember? Then you can go on your stupid quest for bloodshed all you want."

The tiger sighed and said nothing else. When at last we reached the end of the long rope of lights, he put a footpaw on the second step, ready to climb, then looked down at me. "Think you can do this?" he asked.

My back, of course, was still intensely sore, but I wanted to try it - going down stairs was much easier, I imagined, than going up. I simply nodded, then the tiger went up. When he climbed out, lifting the trap door all the way open, I took a long, achy breath and began to ascend, instantly feeling that sharp pain fire up my back. My breathing became difficult, more especially when I lifted myself up, and my muscles were already tired. And though I struggled to carry my body upward, legs and arms shaking, I did manage for what felt like hours to climb each step, paws tightly gripping the thin metal railings. But when there were no more railings to grip, I noticed Lloyd right there at the entrance, paw extended and I grabbed it thankfully. He pulled me out with ease and surprisingly little pain, and together we came out of the ruins and were back on the relatively clean streets of Bone Yard.

The sun was starting to rise in the east, piercing the orangey, greenish haze spread across the Bone Yard and projecting shadows and sunbeams through the skeletons of the ruined homes. The air smelled as fresh as it could in the Wasteland, and everything seemed to have a nice coating of irradiated dew on it. One of the best mornings I'd seen in months, and frankly, it was kind of refreshing.

"So where to now?" I asked, though I did still want to check out that one vault, the one I'd found out about from that photo in the safe. I still had it on me. "Somewhere south of here is a vault with tons of food in it, and supplies. I was gonna check it out after I finished here."

"Where is it?" asked the tiger. I thought for sure he was going to say "no" outright.

"South of here. Near a place called Howling Rock, apparently. It, uh... It has a code, though, which I don't know. Said it's the girl's birthday on the note I found, or her birth date, rather. I was kinda starving when I found the note, though."

"I don't have much food on me, either, and if it's in a vault, it might not be irradiated. Depends on how well it was built. I assume it isn't one of the Vault-Tec vaults."

I shook my head, assuming that was the case as well, though I didn't rightfully know. I hadn't ever seen a Vault-Tec vault before, so I would have nothing to compare this one to, though the note seemed to imply if it wasn't the exact same, it was pretty damn close.

Lloyd sighed through his nose, holding his paws on his hips, and looked around. The foggy haze was thick enough where you couldn't see much more than twenty feet in front of you, so I wasn't too sure what he was looking at. The sun was glaring through the fog, too, so he didn't have to get his bearings. Perhaps he was just worse with directions than I initially thought. Either way, he finally looked back at me, turning around.

"I suppose we could check this place out. Seems like it'll be on our way."

"Southeast, he said? You know, if it's in a vault, there'll probably be even more of them than there were in the University building. Do you ever think you won't be able to do it?"

Lloyd continued forward, dropping his paws off his hips, and I painfully caught up to him.

"No," he said, glancing down at me as I caught up, walking side-by-side. "Most Automatons are just a bunch of punks looking for a free ride. They go through some stupid initiation and get devices planted in their heads, but it's worth it to them. It's either starve in the Wasteland alone, or follow some psychopaths for shelter and food."

"When you put it like that, maybe I should join them, too."

Lloyd frowned at me, obviously in no mood for kidding.

"So you really think taking out their leader's gonna stop them? How do you know someone else won't just take his place? That collie seemed pretty strong-willed, so I'm sure there're others."

The monster tiger sighed again through his nose. "They'll be severely weakened, if nothing else. But it seems doubtful anyone will rise after Frost's fall. None can match his astonishing charisma, though many undoubtedly believe in his lies far more than he does, himself."

I scoffed. "Yeah, I can believe that. Guy probably made the whole thing up just to make some quick caps. Probably became a little too drunk with power and didn't know when to stop. Don't know if I'd do any different, though, to be honest. Food and caps are hard to come by."

"He is a disease and must be stopped, for the greater good."

I shrugged. Having never dealt with the Automatons before that day, I never felt they were an enormous threat. Even now, despite nearly being killed by them, I still didn't see how they could be such a problem. The group of them didn't seem to be causing any trouble in Fuselage, at least until Lloyd went after them, and I never encountered any in the Wasteland. They seemed content to stay holed up in their little hideouts, and so long as you don't go traipsing in, you'd be left alone. And so the longer we walked together and the longer I considered that, the more I began to suspect Lloyd was on this mission for purely personal reasons. I was naturally curious to know just what those reasons were, assuming that was the case, but I hesitate to admit, I was kind of afraid to ask him.

Based on what I'd seen and what I'd experienced firsthand, Lloyd was the last person on my list I'd want to piss off, and drudging up old memories seemed like just the thing to do that. I knew what it was like to feel angry, and eventually you become sort of numb to it. That is, until someone reminds you of what made you so mad to begin with.

Of course in retrospect, the stuff I got angry about happened when I was an emotional train wreck, otherwise known as a teenager. Once somebody stole some caps off me when I was sixteen or so, and I'd spent almost a week hunting the guy down as if he'd killed my mate. I gave him the beating of a lifetime, and almost killed the guy until I realized he'd stolen the caps in order to buy water for his family. I felt guilty as hell then, but that's beside the point. The point is, people can be extremely volatile, and Lloyd seemed like the perfect candidate, at least to me, to go off on someone for practically no reason. And so I kept my personal questions to a minimum.

In fact, when we got onto the road heading south, heading toward some rolling hills and high cliffs further on, neither of us said a hell of a lot. Occasionally a Radscorpion or two would wander by, which we killed easily. Only one attacked us, though, while the others either ran or just stood and watched us, as if to make sure we weren't going after their nests or eggs or whatever it was Radscorpions might want to protect. But for the most part, our journey was made in boring, uneventful silence.

When the sun was at its zenith, and my footpaws tired of walking on the rough, hard pavement of what may have been a highway at one point, I decided it was time to take a break. Lloyd, predictably, wanted to press on, but when I stopped next to a big rock near the ditch, which was behind a broken fence and before a great field of dead crops, I had somehow forced him to stop as well. He reluctantly turned around after walking about fifty feet or so and gave me a nasty glare, yet I didn't feel as threatened by it. Perhaps I was too hot and exhausted to be scared.

"Do you have any water?" asked Lloyd, finally reaching the rock.

"No," I answered simply, wiping my brow. I was quick to untie my bandana and wrap it firmly around my head, letting the top part stay open, rather than tuck it beneath the knot. I liked feeling it waving against my fur, to remind me there actually was a breeze out here, and that it should be making me feel cooler. All psychological, I know, but you've got to do whatever it takes to survive.

"So why are we resting?"

"Because my feet are fucking sore," I said. "Do you have any water?"

The tiger nodded. "But I don't need it right now. I ration my food and water very carefully, especially when I'm travelling long or unknown distances."

"Well la-dee-da," I said sarcastically, waving my paws around like it meant something. "If we get into this vault, I'm sure there'll be more than we can carry."

"Do you often go without food or drink?" asked the tiger.

I scoffed, though when I thought about it, I think he was asking more out of concern than out of judgement. "Yeah," I admitted, lowering my head a bit. "Too often, I think. I can't carry much in my pack, anyway, and of course when I can, there's no food around." I shrugged. "But I've survived this long."

"I'm surprised you've been able to," said the old tiger, finally resting against the rock with me. We both sat on the shaded side, backs against the cool stone. "Little guy like you I don't imagine could last long without eating."

I frowned. "I can go a week before it starts to drive me mad," I said defensively. "And I'm not little."

The big fat tiger glanced down at me, his belly seeming even bigger now that he was sitting. When I glared at him, I noticed the age more clearly in his eyes and realized just how faded his stripes were. Even the white fur around his muzzle had grown outward quite a bit, at least compared to the few younger tigers I'd encountered in my travels. He had some subtle scars all over his arms and his face, each one faded and probably as old as he was. When his maw cracked open, the tiger panting a bit in the heat, I noticed how yellow his teeth appeared, and his dark lips and jowls seemed to melt off his face like tar, dangling there with drool threatening to drip out. I couldn't guess his age, but he'd certainly seen a hell of a lot more in his lifetime than I had, that much I knew for sure.

"You're just fucking huge."

The tiger laughed quietly, which somehow eased the frown off my face. For now the two of us sat in long silence, listening to the gentle wind and all the ambient noises of the Wasteland. A few non-mutated bugs and insects and birds made noises all around us, but neither of us were particularly inclined to look at them. Like myself, I imagined Lloyd was used to such noises and learned quickly to zone them out, especially since he'd clearly had far more time to do it than I had. But despite the silence between us, it wasn't an awkward one. I think we were both just content to be in each other's company, which for me was a very strange thing. But at the time, it hadn't occurred to me.

At last, though, we both got up, myself much more painfully than Lloyd, and after trying to stretch my poor muscles as best I could, we were off again, heading south on the long, hard road.

The massive tiger walked to my right, and though I was almost right next to him, I couldn't help but stare at his muscular arm in my heat-induced stupor, swinging back and forth like a giant pendulum. Which of course drew my eyes up toward his shoulders, and as I slowed down a bit, I watched his back muscles move and flex as he walked, and I sighed quietly as an image of him without his sweaty top on flashed through my mind. Bothered by it, I skipped forward to walk beside him again.

"So, uh, how'd you get so big, anyway?" I asked somewhat awkwardly, hoping he didn't pick up on it. "I've never seen anyone like you before."

Lloyd smiled quietly. "Born this way, I suppose. My father was big, too, and encouraged me to become stronger. He always told me if I wasn't strong, then I'd at least have to look like I was. Helped that my parents owned a brahmin farm, too, and their parents apparently herded bighorners in the south."

"I've never seen a bighorner before," I responded, not really having much to add to his fairly typical story.

I suppose I could have mentioned how I'd spent ten years of my life on a brahmin farm, too, but that was so unspectacular it hardly seemed worth bringing up. In fact, growing up on a farm was probably the most interesting story you'd ever hear in the Wasteland, unless you were about to get killed, since most people just grow up and die in small or large towns with reasonably boring and uneventful lives. Even my life wasn't all that fascinating, considering I rarely stayed in one place for more than a day. It was just the same dreary Wasteland, and same painful hunger every day of every year, without a hell of a lot changing.

Of course, my run-in with the Automatons was probably a story worthy of any local drinking hole. I mean, nobody really wants to hear about super mutants or raiders, since it mostly just sets them on edge. But Automatons, they're somewhat of a novelty. No one knows too much about them, but they know they should be afraid of them. And most people probably think if you do run into them, then you won't survive long enough to tell the tale. But I did. I did it somehow, and against unbeatable odds! I would, of course, neglect to mention any aid by monster-sized tigers...

"So why don't you tell me about yourself?" asked the monster-sized tiger, interrupting my thoughts. It was like he knew I was thinking about him.

"Pff," I started. "What's to tell? I've got a pretty typical life for a Wastelander. Parents died when I was little, grew up on a farm, then travelled the Wastes until now. I imagine you have much the same story."

Lloyd shrugged. "Had a wife and a kid once," he said with no real emotion in his voice. He just stared ahead. "They're gone now. I left the farm over twenty years ago and have been wandering since."

I smiled a little. "Sounds just like my story," I said. "Except the wife and kids, of course." I then shrugged, again having nothing left to add. It sounded as if there was a lot more to his story he wasn't telling me, and I suppose I wasn't telling him much, either. There didn't seem to be a point since I didn't plan on spending a great deal of time with the tiger. He saved me, and I was grateful, but I preferred my solitude. For now I would have to wait until my wounds healed well enough, my back still incredibly sore. Even my tail hurt, and the slight wind and sun nipped at all my burns.

"Have you ever thought of procreating?" asked the tiger suddenly. I really hadn't given it much thought in my lifetime, but for reasons only obvious to me, it wasn't gonna happen.

"Not really," I said with a suppressed chuckle. "First of all, who the hell would want to bring a child up in this shitty world? Second, and I think more importantly, I'm just not, you know...interested."

"I don't think anyone in the Wasteland means to have a child." I think he was saying that out of personal experience. "But people have their lust and desire, and sometimes love, and things like that just happen. Medicine in the Wasteland is sometimes too crude or unsanitary to perform abortions, or any sort of surgery for that matter, so most mothers are forced to keep their child for fear of their own lives. Most want to keep them anyway."

"Did you want your child?" I asked cautiously.

Lloyd paused for a long time before answering. "Yes," he said, the certainty clear on his face. "We knew it would be a great adjustment to our lives, since it was yet another mouth to feed, but we were both sure of our decision. In truth, it's been a very, very long time since I last thought of them."

I assumed they died years ago. When I looked up at the big, strong tiger, I saw much pain and sorrow in his eyes, and felt I shouldn't keep asking him questions. If it'd been so long since he last thought about them, then no doubt I was bringing up all sorts of old, nasty feelings he'd buried at some point, which meant he was liable to snap on me. And as history has proven, I was no match.

Instead the two of us continued on in deafening silence, the tension high. I suppose I was lucky in that I never knew my parents, though I'd had that dream so many times it felt like they'd been with me my whole life. When I began thinking about it further, I began to realize my adoptive parents probably loved me far more than I ever realized, and if they were dead by this point, I was sorry I couldn't have said goodbye. I hadn't ever really loved anyone out in the Wasteland, and though they weren't my real parents, they were the only family I had.

Unfortunately I was too hot-headed and stubborn in my teenage years to realize that. Of course they loved me... It wasn't as if they had any kids of their own. Perhaps they couldn't. Too many people in the Wasteland couldn't have kids, even if they wanted them - because of all the radiation, most males had become impotent. I suppose in that sense, having a child would be both a miracle and a curse, since childbirth was so rare and feeding them almost impossible. My adopted parents were probably very grateful to have me around, and showered me with more love than I knew.

I suddenly found myself recalling a time before I was twelve, when I was living on the farm. Of course I didn't know my actual age, but I was still just a pup. Anyway, my parents (adoptive parents) had taken me to a place called Huron, which even then I knew they couldn't afford to do, but they'd done it anyway. It was a lovely, scenic place at least a day's walk from our farm, with long sandy beaches and very little wildlife. Very little enemies and monsters, too, which at that age I didn't know much about. I remember they brought their mercenary with them, though, just in case, but he never bothered me.

At any rate, that day was probably the happiest I'd ever been in my entire life. That was the day my parents, perhaps against their better judgement, taught me how to swim. Now, if you think otters are just born with that knowhow, think again. I'd spent the whole weekend at the beach trying to learn, swimming feeling a lot more like work than fun, though of course I was having a blast. More especially on the second day, when I started to get the hang of it. I was swimming and diving and holding my breath like nobody's business. I remember my parents standing at the shore, up to their knees watching me with big smiles on their faces, looking so happy and so proud of me, and I felt amazingly good.

I could remember there being other people there, too, and myself thinking I was much better at swimming than they were. That made me think, in retrospect, that perhaps the water there wasn't irradiated for whatever reason, so people could swim in it. Perhaps the bombs had missed that place somehow. Either way, it was almost surreal seeing so many furs in one place, since we only ever saw the odd trader or two while living at the farm, much less so many furs in one place having fun. No one in the Wasteland ever had anything even remotely resembling fun, and yet there they were. When the weekend was over, I remember being sad having to pack up, and sad when my parents told me it would be a while before we could go back, but they did promise to take me again.

They never did, but I loved them for taking me anyway. I even told them so, and they both hugged me very tightly. It hadn't occurred to me at the time that they'd given me a squeeze as if to say they didn't want to lose me, and that I was extremely important to them and to their lives, and even to the farm. Part of me wished I could have had the insight then that I did now, so I could have seen what was so obvious in front of me. As a child, none of these things occurred to me, and as a young teenager, none of these things mattered. I just abandoned the only family I ever had for a dangerous life of total solitude, not realizing I would never see them again.

I sighed heavily as I continued beside Lloyd, staring at the cracks in the pavement as my footpaws flew over them. When I looked up at the tiger, he was wearing the same face he had been before, totally nondescript and yet screaming with pain. He was likely thinking about his past, too, and possibly all sorts of regrets he had. I began to wonder if perhaps his family had been killed by Automatons, and that was why he was after them, which could've been possible.

I didn't know the tiger's age, but I knew the Automatons had only just formed fifteen or so years ago, so it was entirely possible he'd had and lost a wife and child between now and then. Naturally I didn't want to ask the guy, since it wasn't really any of my business, plus he seemed to be dwelling on it as we walked, or so I assumed, anyway. No doubt he missed them both, probably as much as I began missing my adoptive parents, though hopefully that feeling would subside after some sleep.

Sleep usually helped with things like that, when my mind was heavy with thought. No matter what happened in a day, it never seemed to be quite so bad the next. That was probably because out in the Wasteland, you have to live day by day, and so any morning you wake up alive is always a good one. Well, usually a good one. Relatively speaking. Most mornings actually suck shit, the only consolation being you get to survive yet another day in hell. It never really helped to think in those terms, though that was generally the harsh reality. Anyway, my point is, with any luck, we'd find this vault, eat something, go to sleep, and our troubles would be gone.

"So what do you think this Howling Rock looks like?" I asked modestly, looking up at the tiger.

The tiger shrugged. "I can only imagine. Perhaps like a howling wolf, or a coyote or something."

I shrugged, too. "Think we'll be able to get into the vault?"

"Depends on how secure it really was. The Vault-Tec vaults are nearly impossible to get into, the ones that are still locked. Not many of those around, mind you. I assume since you read the directions on the back of an old photograph, it isn't an official vault."

I shook my head, though I guess I didn't really know for sure. "You ever seen a real vault before?"

Lloyd nodded.

"Really? What're they like? What's in them?"

"Like everything else in the Wasteland, they're dead, decaying relics from our past. Most of them opened up years ago and the people who left, survived out there. The people who stayed most likely went insane or turned into Ghouls. Either way, there isn't much to offer inside vaults, with the exception of some medical supplies and sometimes food. Very little weapons or ammo, though. Good place to sleep, too, if it's safe."

My stomach suddenly growled painfully. "I could use some food right now."

"I can't keep feeding you."

I frowned a little. "I wasn't asking you to feed me. How are you not hungry, anyway? It seems like you haven't eaten anything all day."

"I ate shortly before you did. Perhaps I simply have a stronger will than you do."

"If I didn't have a strong will," I said defensively, "I probably would have died out here years ago."

"Then you simply like to complain."

I frowned even harder, and much more visibly this time. I'd always travelled alone, so most of the time when I was hungry, I kept my complaints to myself. It hadn't even occurred to me that I probably talked more in the past couple days than I had in the entire time I'd been travelling the Wastes.

Actually, that's not entirely true. When I first started out, I tried travelling with others, but I discovered quickly they didn't want some kid following them around, or anybody else for that matter. The only people who would have gladly accepted me was probably raiders, which by the time that could have been an option, I was so against their way of life, I'd never have joined.

I had found one person to travel with, though, in some small town called Scone, probably a week or so after I'd left home. We travelled north together for months, and he'd taught me so much about survival. Chase was his name, a kangaroo who was much older than I was - at least forty years older, give or take. He, too, was a wanderer, but was far more experienced than me, given I'd only recently left home. The roo wore worn leather armour, its many years of use and abuse evident, as well as a tight-fitting string of small wooden beads around his neck, which had a nice square cross hanging from the middle. As he'd told me later, the cross he'd made himself from the wood of the only living tree he'd ever seen; the most incredible sight to behold.

Anyway, not only had Chase taught me almost everything I knew about shooting and surviving the Wastes, he even taught me a thing or two about myself, about things I hadn't ever really thought about before then. First off, he had lots of cool piercings, and even now I still wore the earring he'd given me, having pierced my right ear with a spent Stimpak. But besides the earring, Chase had also given me my first kiss.

I remember the kiss so vividly, like it was yesterday. We'd been travelling for two weeks or so, north almost the entire time, and we discovered some caves to set up camp in at night. It was colder up north, so after lighting the fire, we had to sit close. I didn't mind, of course, since Chase and I were basically best friends by that point, and had shared many secrets and stories with one another, though mine tended to be more immature. He always had better stories, and way more of them. But that's beside the point.

So we sat close by the fire, and he was going on about the time he'd killed three super mutants, meanwhile I was getting drowsy, as was usually the case. It hadn't occurred to me before, but perhaps he told me those stories to get me to sleep, like bedtime stories. Anyway, being the young, confused preteen I was, I couldn't make much sense of the feelings I'd been having for quite some time toward him, but I knew when we were close, it made me very happy - as well as nervous and confused and nauseous, and all sorts of other terrible things. But I leaned against his warm body anyway, gently holding onto his arm which made him stop talking. Though my eyes were closed, somehow I knew he was looking at me.

Next thing I knew, Chase was gently rubbing my paw against his forearm, which made me even more nervous, and when I looked up at him, his face was very close to mine. At the time, I had no idea what he was doing, much less what I was doing, but I remember being frozen by his gaze. Slowly our maws moved forward, and within moments our lips were pressed gently together, and all I could do was go along with it as best I could.

We kissed for what felt like hours, myself almost as elated as the time my parents had taken me swimming, though that memory was somewhat buried by that point. I remember being confused and a little scared when he suddenly got his tongue involved, but I trusted Chase with my life, and so I just went with it, pressing my tongue back against his and discovering the immense pleasure that came from it. After the big kiss, myself having been more or less pushed onto my back, I enjoyed the feel of Chase's lips all over my small, thin body, as well as more of his powerful tongue, sending me to places I'd never known existed.

As it happens, Chase and I didn't end up having sex that night, which I was even less experienced in. In fact, I'd just barely begun to understand what penises were used for traditionally at that age, much less what to do with it when there were only two guys involved. I didn't recognize myself as being gay, either, not at that point, nor did I know that that was even a thing, but I did know I had crazy feelings for Chase, more especially after the kissing.

He and I had travelled together for another six months, wandering the Wasteland together and day by day, I discovered more and more about myself, and more importantly, about my sexuality. For the record, he did eventually take my virginity. Though it'd angered me somewhat at that age, in retrospect I had to really admire his nobility then about the whole thing. He admitted he wanted to take me, but he refused to even when I begged him. He told me I had to know and be confident I was ready for it before he would do anything, and refused multiple advances from me (I was twelve, what can I say?).

In the end, it took me killing five raiders in protection of the roo, and crying for hours after, for me to somehow realize I was ready for it. Or rather, for Chase to accept I was ready. He'd been shot in the shoulder - nothing life-threatening, at least not for Wasteland injuries - and with the five remaining raiders bearing down on us, I was forced to protect the only fur kind enough to let me travel with him. The only fur who freely shared his food and supplies with me, and gave me my fair share of any loot we found. He even let me have half his Nuka-Cola one time. And so after helping the old roo recover from his wounds, far from the five dead raiders, Chase kissed my poor tears away and despite his shoulder, at last took my virginity.

And that night was probably the single most incredible night in my entire life. I'd helped Chase out of the building we'd discovered and to a small forest of dead trees, hastily lighting a fire and tearing medical supplies from my bag, which I no longer had with me. All while crying for his survival, I managed to quite easily - he had to guide me through much of the process - remove the bullet and patch up the wound. And even when I knew Chase would be fine, I couldn't stop myself from crying anyway, insanely frightened for both our lives, but more especially his. Fortunately, though, Chase was well enough to comfort me, holding onto me tight from behind and kissing me softly. I wanted to tell him just how special he was to me, but I think he knew.

After Chase had managed to settle me down, telling me it wasn't the first time he'd been shot, he told me about the first time as he rested me back, leaning over me on his good arm, paw gently running through my chest and stomach fur. He then kissed me, I told him I loved him, and he kissed me again, for much longer that time. I didn't ask, and I certainly didn't beg, but somehow Chase knew what I was feeling, and what I wanted, and after slowly sliding out of my clothes, at long last the kangaroo took me.

The pain was amazing, but the pleasure was far greater. I had no idea what I was doing or what to expect, but after he penetrated me, everything had somehow just fallen into place. In my mind I was a natural, though I imagined, in retrospect, I was about as awkward with my first time as I was with any other new experience. But I endured, giving into the pleasure his body wrought upon me, crying out in the cool night air without inhibition. When he'd finished up, I distinctly remember the thick, musky smell coming up from my rear, and the great warmth he'd spread inside me. It was after he finished up that the old kangaroo had shown me what sort of pleasures I could derive from my own hard shaft, and what sort of things I could enjoy doing with it, even when I was alone. It was a scary night by the firelight, but impossibly fun, too. Chase had told me I was his now, that we were bonded and were mates, which at the time I didn't understand, but would only come to appreciate it after losing him.

Three months after he'd taken my virginity, Chase left me, taken by a .308 round to the chest. We'd come upon a settlement up north who are apparently accustomed to shooting first and asking questions later, a settlement I suggested we visit. After Chase was shot, and after the initial shock of seeing him fall, I managed to take out at least ten settlers before my dying roo told me to get the hell out of there. He'd given me his small backpack, too, which had served as his ammo bag, as well as his wooden necklace and cross, and told me to run. Stubborn as always, I told the bloody roo I wasn't going to leave him, even though I knew it was a wound he had no way of surviving. But eventually the life faded from his eyes, and I had to go.

I ran for what felt like days, crying until my tears ran dry and I had no energy left to continue. Eventually I collapsed in the middle of the Wasteland, not really caring anymore for what happened to me, and even kind of hoping to die. I had never loved anyone as strongly as I'd loved Chase, having learned so much from him. I now recognized edible and poisonous plants, and how to tell if water was good to drink or not, and where good places to loot tended to be. He'd taught me how to heal wounds, and more importantly how to maintain and fire a great variety of guns. But most of all, Chase had taught me about life in general, about myself and my sexuality, allowing me to explore it freely.

Anyway, after collapsing in the Wasteland, I was picked up by some trader and revived, and after a few days I was gone again. Even today I still wanted revenge against that settlement, whose name I never did discover, but they've likely moved on by this point, or if they hadn't, then they had long forgotten about me.

I sighed heavily once more, arms dragging by my sides when I looked forward. Lloyd and I were coming up to some large hills with some cliffs, as well as another dense forest of dead trees. With the sun slowly setting, our shadows growing longer with every minute, I prayed we would soon discover something we could call Howling Rock, and maybe be able to eat something shortly.

"How well can you measure distance?" I asked Lloyd.

"Well enough," he shrugged. "Why?"

"Because the note says the vault's thirty miles south of...well, that town before Bone Yard."

"Bone Yard?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. When I come up to places without names, I give them one. The university building we were at, I called it Bone Yard. I found the safe in the similar town north of it."

Lloyd smiled at me. I was so glad to have amused him. "I see," he said. "Well, I can't get very precise, but I imagine it's been roughly thirty miles now, give or take. Probably less. Just keep your eyes peeled for any kind of unusual rock."

"Well duh," I said, rolling my eyes. Lloyd's company was great and all, but he really didn't need to point such obvious things out to me.

As our shadows grew longer and the trees thinned once more, a dirt road led in one direction while the pavement road continued forward, and so we stopped and looked about. Down the dirt path was some more trees and a cliff, and even a few ruined homes along the way, each one just as demolished as the last. While I couldn't speak fairly for Lloyd, I, at least, was looking around for something called the Howling Rock, and though there were quite a few boulders and large rocks around, nothing made me think of "howling."

"Man," I said, hungry and tired. My mind was somewhat exhausted, too, since most days I didn't think about my past. Most days were spent thinking about how I was going to survive the night, but with Lloyd with me it seemed I was given more time to consider other things. Unfortunately today, those other things were kind of stressful.

"Any thoughts?" I asked the tiger, who was looking around, too.

"Where did the note say it'd be, exactly?"

I pulled out the photograph just to make sure I'd read it right. "Says here, 'between two large boulders upon the hill, and shouldn't be hard to see.' I see a hill, sorta. A cliff. But no rocks."

Lloyd furrowed his brow. "I can't imagine we would have to go much further than this, since this appears to be the last big hill before we exceed thirty miles."

"Maybe we haven't gone thirty miles yet."

"It's been nearly a two day's walk from where you found that, it can't possibly be more."

"Well do you see a Howling Rock?" I asked angrily. My stomach was mostly speaking for me now.

"That note was written before the Great War," Lloyd growled. "For all you know, Howling Rock has long since been blown into thousands of little pieces, or weathered down to nothing. That big rock over there could've been it."

I glanced at the large rock, still just seeing a big damn rock. "Well fuck," I spat.

"C'mon," suggested Lloyd, making toward the dirt road. "We'll look around over there, okay? Down that road. Maybe when we get closer to the cliffs, we'll see two large boulders."

"Pff. Yeah, sure."

Lloyd frowned, but I followed behind him anyway.

The sun was mostly hidden now, and while it still lit up the sky a little, before setting entirely, Lloyd and I were completely in its shadow. We walked along the path carefully, the twisted black trees doing nothing to ease my mind. There was no wind, and not a sound beyond our crunching footpaws against the gravel. Lloyd, for whatever reason, was being very cautious, which made me nervous and cautious, too.

"Why're you walking so slow?" I asked.

"Just have a feeling," he said quietly. We both treaded lightly along the road, ignoring the small ruined homes on either side. His eyes were plastered to the ground, no doubt watching for mines or other explosive devices. I was watching, too, despite being behind Lloyd.

I think the tiger suspected raiders were around, since they were the most common users of explosive devices, more especially mines. The tiger hadn't yet spotted any, though, or if he did we were going to die soon, especially since raiders favoured frag mines, rather than the plasma mine I'd barely survived. Of course, plasma burns were hardly something to write home about, since they were still itchy and painful, and probably covering at least half my body, if not more. Luckily Lloyd's bandage-work was still keeping the burns clean and dust free, and unlike when I try to bandage myself, they were staying put.

"Do you think it's raiders?" I asked somewhat needlessly. I think I desperately wanted him to say yes, though, since anything else would undoubtedly be worse.

"Yeah," Lloyd whispered.

"How on earth do you know?"

"I don't. But if this place is what you said it is, then anyone who found it would either move on, or move in. Only raiders would have the resources to break into a vault."

"It could be no one. I don't see anything, or hear anything. You're just making me nervous, you asshole."

Lloyd ignored my last comment. "I can smell it in the air," he said rather cryptically. Whenever I was around raiders, all I ever smelled was some nasty body odour mixed with piss and blood.

"You'd think we'd have tripped a mine or something by this point. There's clearly no one here, for god's sake."

Lloyd suddenly stopped, and I almost banged into him. "Watch it, buddy!"

"How well can you disarm mines?"

"Tsk... I don't know. I can't. Why?"

Lloyd took a few steps back. "Because there're tons of them.

When I finally peered around the tiger's massive body, I saw the faint red glow of a mine's activated light, most of which were half covered in gravel. I froze for a moment.

"Can't we just go around?"

"You mean where we have even less of a chance of seeing the mines?"

I frowned. "You don't have to be a dick. Why don't we just whip some rocks on them and blow them up?"

Lloyd thought about that. "Not a bad idea, actually. It'll draw the raiders out, at least, and we can take them out."

"Wouldn't it be better to try to do this without having to kill everyone? They're just trying to survive like us, you know."

Lloyd rolled his eyes and looked at me, as if to tell me that was stupid. And it was.

"I'm just saying... Besides, I don't really feel like getting my head blown off for some crappy two-hundred-year-old food."

"We've come this far, James. We can easily take out a group of raiders."

"And if there's a hundred of them?"

Lloyd made that face again.

I sighed heavily and frowned, tapping my fingers against Lucky's grip. "Okay, fine. But that's gonna make a huge fucking explosion, and besides these shitty black trees, there isn't a lot of cover."

"Don't you worry about that. I'll trip the mines, you just be ready to start shooting when they attack, okay? I'll try to get in behind them and tear them apart one by one, so I'll need you to draw them forward."

"And if I get a bullet in the head before that?"

Lloyd rubbed my head. "You'll do fine. Now go hide over there."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, following to where the tiger was pointing. He wanted me to hide behind the stone wall of a ruined home, meanwhile he took off to the other side of the gravel road, possibly looking around for a large enough piece of rubble to set those mines off.

For the time being, though, I just sat against the wall and pulled out my plasma pistol, thinking I just might give it a try for this. I ejected the energy cell, blew on it for no particular reason, then popped it back in, as if to make sure everything was functioning properly. Didn't want to risk firing it now, of course, giving away our...well, not element of surprise, since our first move was to create an enormous explosion. But it wasn't advisable, either way.

"What the fuck're you doing?" I said to myself, referring to Lloyd. I could hear him moving around a bit, then suddenly heard an enormous cracking, like that of splintering wood. It made my heart jump, anyway, and just as I poked my head up, an incredible blast of heat and sound suddenly pushed me onto my back and caused me to tremble terribly, crying out as the sound ripped at my poor little ears.

"Holy fuck!" I cried, covering my ears as the deafening explosion roared no more than thirty feet away. Even behind the wall I could feel the intense heat from the twenty-or-so mines simultaneously exploding. When I noticed the fiery light finally dimming, I knew the fireball had subsided, now replaced by the sound of falling debris and some crackling flames, which was significantly less painful.

A moment later, though, when all just started to seem calm, I heard some faint shouting from down the road and the familiar clicking of guns being loaded. If they were raiders, they were coming to check things out. And possibly reload some more mines.

I waited for a short time for their voices to draw nearer, and when I could almost make out what they were saying, I got down on my stomach and inched toward the edge of the wall, which was no doubt riddled with shrapnel and covered in black dust. I poked my head very cautiously around the corner to see what was going on, and as predicted, Lloyd was nowhere to be seen. I imagined for a second that he'd just taken off, leaving me to fight off the raiders alone, like he never wanted me around to begin with. That son of a bitch.

Of course, I didn't really think that, and it was irrelevant by this point, anyway.

"I don't see a body," one of them said, looking around.

"All the mines went off, you dumb fuck," cried one of the others, who was crouched down and setting up another mine. He would likely activate it when he set up all the others.

"Fuck you!" retorted the dumb raider. "Y'never know. If you didn't make 'em so close, maybe we could spare a few, and maybe have a body to loot."

"Hey, man, you wanna set these things up?"

The raider didn't respond as he watched his buddy move to set up another. There were at least eight raiders down here, five helping set up mines, three standing guard with assault rifles. They weren't saying much, since I imagined they were trying to get some sleep, or relax, or something other than this before Lloyd and I showed up.

"Maybe he should," laughed one of the others. "Blow his fucking head off, since he clearly ain't usin' it anyway."

The other raiders laughed.

"C'mon," I said to myself as I watched them, paw gripping the energy weapon tightly. They'd set up at least five mines now, but I was waiting for more. Figured if they set up enough, I could try to detonate them, too ,while they were all standing around. Conserve more ammo, and with any luck, my own neck. And Lloyd's, too, though at that moment, I was far more concerned with my own.

After a few minutes, the raider who'd started setting up mines stood up, looked about, then nodded to his friends. "Set them to activate in five minutes," he said, then crouched down to start tinkering with one of them.

Okay, this was it, James. I just had to pray Lloyd wasn't close enough to get caught in the second explosion, assuming I didn't get gunned down before I could hit one.

Gun in paw, I slowly stood up, taking in deep breaths as I readied myself. I walked into the middle of the road as calmly as I could, eyeing the mine closest to me, focusing entirely on it.

"Hey!" one of the gun-wielding raiders cried. "Who the fuck're you?"

The three guards all aimed their rifles at me, while the other five put their paws on their holsters, ready for a gunfight.

I didn't say anything, but remained focused on the mine. Then as quickly as I could, I held out my plasma pistol and fired, and just as I did I heard their guns firing, too, everything moving in total slow motion. My first two shot hit the ground, but the third managed to strike the mine, detonating it instantly.

In another fury of deafening flames, a single mine went off, totally ripping the one raider apart while blowing a couple others back. A second later, another explosion sounded, blowing a huge hole in the stomach of another raider and one more, blowing some others back. Myself, I'd been pushed back by the first explosion, almost blinded by the fireball, then rocked by the second as I stepped further away, gunfire and a third explosion sounding all around me. I may have been shouting, but I wasn't firing back yet, despite me begging myself to do so.

A couple more explosions ripped through the air and a couple more raiders, meanwhile I struggled to regain my composure. Evidently the one raider had decided, after all, to spread the mines out, since obviously they hadn't all detonated at once. But once the last of them exploded, it was just me versus a small group of injured raiders.

When I at last managed to focus on my enemies, who were mostly silhouetted by the various groups of flames, I fired my newfound gun at them at once, lighting up the rotten scenery with a pale green light. Unfortunately upon doing that, I'd also given away my location, which I hadn't realized until after firing I was concealed from them.

And so after burning a huge, glowing green hole in one raider, who cried out painfully as he fell and his body practically melted, I heard and felt the 5.56 rounds flying through the air. Moving way slower than I wanted to, I bolted toward the broken stone wall while firing my pistol. Luckily I saw a large dark blur somewhere behind all the raiders, then one of them falling instantly after, which I admit kind of frightened me to see. I squeezed the trigger of my plasma pistol a few more times, firing off several bolts of green energy and actually managing to hit another raider, but not before taking a shot to the chest.

At first it felt like a great hammer slamming into my chest, but with the adrenaline pumping like crazy, I didn't fall down until I managed to shoot the bastard who'd shot me. But as I hit the ground, the wound suddenly began to burn as if someone had taken a red-hot, iron pole and shoved it deep into the wound, twisting it. I cried out in immense pain, barely able to move from the shock. After about thirty seconds, though, the gunfire unceasing all around me, the shock slowly began to wear off and I was able to move my limbs, which didn't help me a hell of a lot since all I could do was cradle my wound in my paw. The bleeding hole felt as if a flaming billiard ball was squeezing out of the tiny injury, pain ripping through my chest and my arm, and even up my neck, and all I could do for now was cry out, holding my wound and unable to get up, the pain immeasurable.

"God damn it," I snarled to myself, glad it was just one bullet hole and not more. I writhed about and tried to get up, but it was basically useless, since any amount of pressure put on my chest - the wound was closer toward my left shoulder - caused even more severe pain and those muscles to give up. And so for now I tried my hardest not to concentrate too heavily on the searing, burning hole in my chest, and tried even harder to stay conscious.

But very quickly, with the blood loss and the pain, that was becoming a losing battle. When I closed my eyes, I could still hear fighting around me, but with every passing moment it sounded like the raiders were losing, though it hardly mattered if I was going to die here. All I could remember hearing before blacking out entirely was a deep, growly voice calling my name, until it became too blurred and too incoherent to hear, then the world went dark.

I was jostled awake moments later, though, and it took me a while to realize I was being carried, and whoever was carrying me was running. The running made my gunshot wound hurt more, though I couldn't imagine that was actually possible, but I was at least comforted in his big, strong arms. When I looked around, the pain from the gunshot and the injuries from the day before making it quite difficult, I noticed we were running along that same dirt road, except it was darker out now, and when I managed to glance up at whose arms I was in, I was somewhat disappointed to see it wasn't my Golden Behemoth, but instead the old, weathered face of Lloyd Thompson. I guess it was good enough.

The tiger was panting quite heavily as he ran, his age showing clearly, and for the first time since meeting him, he looked genuinely worried. Quite possibly for me, as if saving my life meant something to him. I didn't really get that, but I appreciated it all the same. Of course, like before, I was fading in and out of consciousness, and possibly giving his hard, strained muscles gentle caresses and gropes as he carried me to safety, or if it was already safe, to someplace to patch me up.

Nevertheless, I felt warm in his powerful arms, regardless of how tired they probably were, but more importantly, I felt safe. My paw seemed tiny against his chest, which I only now realized was unclothed, yet his fur was surprisingly soft. Most of the time my fur felt either grungy or like straw, neither of which I preferred. Perhaps it was because I didn't swim as often as otters were supposed to. Either way, I very much enjoyed my proximity to Lloyd's old, fat body, surprising myself a little in admitting that.

After an indeterminable amount of time, having taken a short journey up a hill, between dozens of dead trees, and finally between two large boulders, Lloyd had taken me to what I could only assume was the vault the note spoke of, though raider presence was clear. I was at last set down on some crappy bedding, something like hay or straw, or perhaps a pile of dead grass, but bedding nonetheless. He was talking to me, but all I could offer in response was a couple terrible groans and growls as the pain seemed to intensify, probably due to me concentrating on it more.

"Hold on," I managed to hear. It sounded more like an echo at the back of my head, but at least I understood the words this time. The tiger then shoved something in my maw, and before I could spit it out, the pain in my chest increased a thousand times.

My eyes shot open and I cried loudly into whatever was in my maw, teeth clenching tightly against the plush material. When I managed to glance over, Lloyd was pressing into my wound and digging in, either with his fingers or with some instrument; I couldn't see what he was doing very well, as my head spent most of the time craned backward, luckily cushioned by the grass. Tears were streaming down my face as the pain persisted, and I could feel the burning object push into my flesh, digging around as if searching for something, like a bullet for instance.

When at last Lloyd found it, I screamed loudly as he pulled it from my wound, but I didn't see what'd happened to the bullet after. He probably just tossed it away. Either way, the pain had dulled somewhat once the bullet was removed, though it still hurt immensely.

"Good work," said Lloyd, paw gently touching my chest. His fingers weren't near my wound, thank god, otherwise I'd probably have to kill him. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a Med-X, quickly jamming it next to the hole, then a second one immediately after. He then injected me with a Stimpak and cleaned the wound as best he could, using a single bottle of what looked like clean water, then bandaged me up some more.

At some point before removing the bullet, Lloyd had also removed my shirt, which I only realized after he'd begun wrapping up my injuries. Sometime after removing my shirt, he'd clearly removed the previous bandages around my chest as well, so as to better operate upon me, but I had absolutely no recollection of that happening. Guess I was way more out of it than I realized.

But for now, his strong, gentle paws lifted and turned my sore, half-nude body carefully as if I was nothing, wrapping me up once more to protect my burns and the bullet hole from the harsh environment of the Wasteland.

When at last he finished, Lloyd sighed heavily and sat back on his bum, leaning back against the cool wall of the shallow cavern, the heavy vault door behind us, and no doubt locked. It was closed, anyway, and though the thought occurred to me that the raiders living here had perhaps tried and failed to open the door, clear evidence showed the door had been opened many times. If they'd simply guessed the code, they hadn't left any clear traces of it in this cavern. Not that I was able to look, but I figured if Lloyd had found the passcode, he'd have opened the door and brought me inside.

"I think the Med-X is working," I said as coherently as I could. My paw found its way up toward my chest, rubbing where the wound was and though it hurt, I couldn't seem to help myself.

"Used the last two I had," said the tiger, who looked exhausted. He closed his eyes and rested his head back. "I cannot imagine how you've been able to survive all these years by yourself."

I frowned. "Yeah, well maybe it's your fault. Never had so many injuries since meeting you."

Lloyd just laughed quietly and glanced at me. He and I simply stared at each other for a short while before we both looked away again. A bit of blush crept onto my face.

"Have you ever been shot?" I asked, though it was probably an obvious answer.

Lloyd smiled. "Yes, many times. Never gets any less painful, but some are worse than others. Last one, I got shot right through my paw."

"Serious? How the hell'd you manage that?"

"To this day, I'm still not sure. It was a fight against raiders who, like you, thought it'd be a good idea to rob me. They were unsuccessful, but somewhere in the melee they'd shot me. And let me tell you, you can't do anything with a paw that's been shot, not for a long time. Sometimes when it's gets really cold at night, it still hurts to move it."

I cringed at the thought, and rubbed my paw pads to soothe the imaginary pain. "Jesus."

"As I'm sure you experienced, there's also the incredible burning sensation that follows the gunshot."

"Yeah," I said, holding out my paw. "I get it. So as far as gunshot wounds go, mine could've been worse?"

Lloyd shrugged. "You could be dead."

That was true, though with the new pain in my chest and the intense aching in my back and neck, made worse when I fell, being dead was looking that much sweeter. But like in most cases, no matter how bad it seemed, I never truly wished I was dead. Especially since I'd managed to survive so long on my own, dying now would make all that effort seem like a waste. If I was going to die, I wanted it to either be from old age or in a blaze of glory. Not shot by some stupid raider then bleeding to death because it "hurt too much."

With the sun almost completely set now, not that whatever was left of its light was shining into our cavern, the air was getting cooler and wearing only bandages on my top, I quickly began to shiver. I curled up a bit as much as my sore body would allow, groaning as my back squeezed the air out of my lungs, and my bullet wound ached as I turned.

"You should keep still," said Lloyd. He then looked about, then sighed quietly as he got up. "I'm going to start a fire."

I nodded quickly at him, glad for it but still feeling cold. I closed my eyes, the weight of the day pressed down horribly on me, and just listened to what he was doing. I heard his large footpaws shuffling around and moving things, startling me once when he dropped a pot, but for the most part he was fairly noiseless, considering his size. But soon his noise started in front of me, and when I cracked an eye open and glanced over, I saw he'd taken whatever the raiders were using to make fires and put it in front of me, which I suppose was quite sweet. A lesser fur would have lit the fire where the wood was, and made me move, but not Lloyd. I couldn't help but smile a little, watching him strike the flint futilely, until soon enough a few sparks caught and he gently breathed life into the fire.

The old tiger, whose age and wisdom were highlighted by the flames, more especially in his weathered face, blew on the fire even more, adding wood to the flames to make it bigger. It delighted me to see him trying so hard to make me warm, since I imagined my shivering made it all too clear, and it was certainly far more than I deserved. Especially after mugging him. Attempted mugging.

"Thank you," I said quietly, glancing up at the tiger, who was still crouched over the fire.

Lloyd just nodded at me, and when he seemed confident the fire was going well and burning large enough, he sat cross-legged before it, staring into the dancing, glowing orange flames as if mesmerized by it, and I couldn't help but do the same.

I could feel the heat against my face and my body, warm and inviting, and yet I found myself still quite cold. I tried to shuffle closer, now lying on my left side, and though the flames indeed felt hot against my body, still there was a chill. I began to shiver once more.

Lloyd, on the other hand, looked quiet warm. His face and chest and arms and legs bathed in firelight and amazing warmth, and though he looked as tired as I felt, he continued to stare into the flames. Perhaps he was mesmerized by it, thinking about his past. Perhaps remembering why he was on this mission in the first place, which I presumed was revenge. I began to wonder if he ever planned on telling me, or if he was going to make me continue guessing.

Either way, as my little teeth chattered quietly together, my breathing somewhat broken, I stared at the tiger almost enviously. He was so big and strong, and probably never felt fear. I imagined even when he did get shot, he still somehow managed to continue fighting, even though from my point of view, that seemed next to impossible. I then sighed quietly, eyes still upon the fat, muscular tiger. His arms were huge, which were currently resting upon his knees, and if his shorts were up any higher, I was certain I'd see even more powerful legs. The feline was some sort of powerhouse, amazingly strong and amazingly brave, and with a physique to match.

I then found myself wondering what it would be like to touch those muscles. I already had, but lying there by the fire, just staring, I began imagining even more. In my mind's eye, the old tiger was flexing them, perhaps in the heat of a battle, showing every little bulge and ridge through his dull and listless fur. I then saw myself touching them, caressing his thick arms and big chest once more, paws rolling up through his fur and around his shoulders, and as he flexed I felt so vividly the massive collection of complex muscles running all down his back, rippling softly beneath my paw pads. I grumbled quietly to myself when I realized how full my sheath had gotten just thinking about it, and it was making me thoroughly uncomfortable.

But the tiger could be so fierce and unrelenting. Though his paws were enormous, they were so gentle with me, too, having moved me around earlier with careful ease. Those paws of his... Not many people have touched me in my life, at least not any living, and yet for as hard and old and calloused as they were, his paws were also tender and soft. They took care of me, and had not only touched me, but had touched me all over my body - my bandages covered at least half of me. Having said that, he'd probably touched my naked bits, too, in order to wrap the burns around my pelvis, though probably not intentionally. But still, it'd been years since someone last touched me down there, more than I could remember, yet he'd done it, and done it so kindly, too. The tiger could snap a raider's neck with those paws, then in the same moment soothe me to sleep.

Suddenly Lloyd looked over at me, and by the time I realized it, I stupidly snapped my head in the other direction and unfortunately began to blush, or perhaps it was just the fire against my face. Either way, he'd caught me staring, but he didn't say anything. I felt like he was still looking at me, but probably not.

"Lloyd?" I said, gazing into the fire, trying to look at him from the very corners of my eyes.

Now he was looking at me. "Yeah?"

"I'm cold."

"I can't make the fire any bigger."

I shook my head. "I know. Can you, um..." I paused for a horribly long time, not sure if I was actually able to get the words out. For some reason, the mere thought of getting that close to the tiger, such as when he carried me away from danger, made me incredibly nervous. As if I needed anything else added to the pain around my body, I had to put up with a knot in my stomach, too.

"What is it?" he asked in his deep, gravelly voice.

"Just..."

Lloyd stayed deathly quiet, like he knew what I wanted to ask but enjoyed watching me squirm.

"Can you hold onto me?"

And still the damned tiger kept silent.

I knew I was blushing now, feeling like a moron for asking. I felt weak, like a child wanting its mother, which was definitely not how you survive in the Wasteland. You needed to be strong, and if not strong, then cunning. Right now, I felt like neither of those things. People got shot every day in the Wasteland, or attacked by animals or insects, and lived to tell the tale. That was how they became stronger and wiser, by toughing it out and not complaining. Lloyd should just shoot me right now, save me the trouble.

"Forget it," I said mere moments after my question. Unfortunately the damage was done, and big strong Lloyd no doubt thought me a fool. More so than he already did.

Already looking away, I just heard the tiger moving around, not saying anything but moving nonetheless. In which direction, I couldn't tell. What he was planning, also unknown. He was probably going to leave the cave, sickened by the sight of me. Extracting the bullet was one thing, but listening to me cry about it? That was something entirely different, and having survived multiple gunshot wounds, he probably just didn't have the patience for me. Guess I couldn't blame him.

But I was surprised, seconds later, to hear his heavy footpaws stepping closer toward me, and eventually behind me. Except for all my shivering, I didn't move, uncertain of what he was planning. A moment later, I heard and felt the tiger crouch down behind me, down onto his knees, then finally a paw against my ribs.

"What..?" I started, unable to completely figure his actions out. My poor heart skipped a beat, now hammering rapidly against my chest, and I was blushing heavily. Was he actually going to hold me?

Next thing I knew, the tiger carefully scooped me up into his arms, myself feeling surprisingly little pain from the movement, and skilfully sat himself down so his legs were out in front of him, making a bit of a circle. I then felt his body thud back against the cavern wall and myself get planted back down with the utmost of care, his powerful paws moving me into another position. I was now on my bum, tail sticking out toward the flames, and Lloyd's enormous, protective arms around my chest and stomach, holding me close. He lastly bent his knees so his legs came up around my sides, as if to keep me sheltered from any possible hazard.

For now, my little paws could only grip at his forearms as they crossed over my body, though even that became too strenuous. Instead I just relaxed, letting out a quiet sigh as my body melted back into Lloyd's strong, naked muscles behind me, as well as his big, warm, cushy stomach.

"I don't deserve this," I said, eyes closed. My heart was beating wildly, face burning red. "You've shown me too much kindness." Unfortunately, I still felt cold, but at least my poor, weary soul was invigorated by his alluring touch.

"You need to find what little happiness you can in the Wasteland," said Lloyd, resting his head down close to mine. Was that his way of saying he liked me, too? I could almost feel his mouth and his long white whiskers tickling the fur upon my head.

"Why, though? I mean...why show me such kindness? Everybody else, understandably, looks out for themselves out here, but not you. You practically go out of your way to be nice to me."

Lloyd stayed silent.

"You sure as hell didn't show any kindness to those Automatons."

I felt Lloyd grip tighter against my body, which I think was inadvertent. He soon loosened up, and partially confirmed my suspicion. His mission was definitely personal.

"They don't deserve any kindness," he told me. "They are ruthless, soulless psychopaths who bring nothing but death, destruction, and misery to the Wasteland. Sparing the collie was my act of kindness toward them."

I shrugged slightly, which ended up being a bad idea - a sudden pain shot through my chest and neck. "I know they're pretty bad," I said after a sharp growl, "but they pretty much leave you alone if you don't bother them...or sneak into their hideouts."

Lloyd kept silent once more. Clearly he was holding something back, and I wasn't sure if I really should have been prying. But it was curious; his hatred ran deep.

"I just...you know." I think what my stupid mouth was trying to say was, I liked him and I cared about him, and wanted to help him as much as he'd helped me. But I was never very good at things like that. Instead I just fumbled over words for an excruciating amount of time before finally deciding to stop, collect myself, and try again. "I like you Lloyd," I managed to spit out. "Like, a lot. I know it's pretty crazy, and we've only known each other for a short while, and I know you had a wife and a kid, so, y'know, yer not so interested in me, but, like - ugh, god... - I care about you, and you've been so nice to me, and even though I tried to mug you, I want to do something nice for you, too."

Amazingly, I managed to spurt all of that out in only half the time it took me to stumble over all the words in my first attempt. And even so, I still sounded like an idiot.

"I'm sorry," I said at last, sighing heavily. "I haven't really interacted with many people in the Wasteland, much less anyone friendly, so I'm not so good at expressing myself."

"I understand," was all he said in response. Despite what I'd just said, or tried to say, Lloyd still held onto me, keeping me next to his soft, warm body for all the good it did. I even felt his paws gently rubbing my stomach as we sat there, which definitely was a surprise. He was a very curious tiger.

"So, you know," I started, my paw venturing to meet his. Not surprisingly, my paw was tiny compared to his, but I held on anyway, which of course made my heart race. It had occurred to me that he probably didn't feel anywhere near the same toward me, though in most cases (as I'd discovered a few times in my life) if another guy doesn't like you, or doesn't swing that way, he's very quick to beat the shit out of you. Either that or just run away, but Lloyd wasn't exactly the running away sort. "You can unburden yourself...if you wanted. Get something off your chest."

Lloyd still didn't speak, but just kept rubbing his paws through my fur, careful not to pull my bandages or rub any of my wounds. He quickly stopped, though I kept my paw against his. The chill in my body was still there, but it didn't seem as bad so close to the tiger. I especially enjoyed the proximity to his muscles, particularly his biceps and chest, which until recently I hadn't realized was a turn-on for me - most furs were thin like me, or if they weren't they were simply more fit. Lloyd made us all look like wimps.

Having finally said my piece, I sighed quietly and relaxed again, or as best I could considering my heart rate, knotted stomach, and blushing cheeks. It seemed Lloyd was uninterested in sharing his past with me, beyond what he'd already said. That was fair enough, I suppose, since I hadn't exactly shared mine with him, either. Though of course, beyond what I'd said, there wasn't a whole lot else to tell.

And so the enormous tiger and I sat close together by our modest fire, keeping each other warm as best we could, myself trying my best to sleep considering the constant pain. At one point, though, I felt Lloyd's arms slowly go more limp, as well as his legs, and though his paws were still holding me, they'd stopped moving - I think he was asleep. Myself, I was still able to relax, but sleep would not come easily.

It did, though, at last, and I had that damned dream again. Except this time, after my parents fell, a Sentry Bot appeared and it wasn't crushed by the Golden Behemoth, but instead by Lloyd Thompson, snarling furiously. He carried me away from that place of destruction in his arms, and unlike usual, I got even greater pleasure out of feeling his hard, powerful arms and mighty shoulders.

When I finally awoke, it was to a sharp pain in my chest and loss of breath, as well as sweat pouring down my back. "What...the fuck was that?" I said to myself, trying to catch my breath. I noticed the tiniest bit of light peering in through the mouth of the cave, then Lloyd began to stir.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, paw against my back. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he liked touching my body.

"Yeah," I answered painfully. "Just...a bad dream. Do you think we'll be able to get in there?" I glanced toward the heavy vault door.

"Not unless you know the passcode."

My stomach grumbled angrily. "How the fuck did some stupid raiders figure it out?"

"Perhaps one of them could hack computers," suggested the tiger, removing his paw. "Or they kidnapped someone who could."

I frowned furiously at the door. "A lot of damn good this photo did me." Amazingly, it calmed me a bit to feel Lloyd's old muzzle suddenly running through my head-fur and down toward my ear, getting shockingly close to rubbing my cheek. Considering he'd had a wife, he was getting awfully comfortable with me. I didn't mind, of course, but it was quite curious.

"Show me the photo," demanded the tiger right in my ear, though I didn't have my bag with me. Fortunately it was sitting close enough for me to reach it, and so I reached in and pulled it out, examining for a moment before handing it to Lloyd.

"Hmm," he said, reading the note. He held it in front of my face, though high enough so he could see it, too. "This was taken before the Great War, right?" he asked rhetorically.

"Yeah," I answered anyway. "So what?"

"Well," he began, leaning forward a bit. I could feel his chest against the back of my head and my neck, and a bit of his crotch, too. He was making it very difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. "That narrows down the year by quite a bit. And what do you suppose that light spot is there?"

I squinted at the picture, holding his wrist to bring the photo closer, examining it now much more carefully than I had before. It was an old photo, obviously, practically crumbling apart. It was a photo presumably of the daughter holding a plush bear, and the background was almost entirely black. But there was a light spot, kind of rectangular with a few lighter spots above it. It was extremely faint, but I didn't recognize it.

"It's a birthday cake," said the tiger. I didn't even have a birthday, so the thought of getting some kind of cake for it astounded me. "How much do you want to bet, it's her birthday cake?"

"Stop asking questions like that and tell me what you're thinking," I said with a frown. He was a very clever tiger, it seemed, much more clever than I. He didn't have to emphasize the point so much.

Lloyd chucked softly. "Well, if this photo was taken on her birthday, then I'll bet those two numbers down there are the date."

"Huh?" I grabbed his wrist again. "Where?"

"In the border - it's very faint, but it's there. Edges are all practically coming off, but I'll bet it's a seven and a twenty-three...if I had to guess."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know how you get a seven and a twenty-three from those little marks, but say you're right. How about the year?"

"We know it'll be before 2077, and not much before either."

"How do you know?" I should have just let him explain, but I had to know how he was figuring all of this out. Not that it really mattered.

"Well when I read the note on the back, it sounded urgent. And even if it wasn't, it's clear there was a general fear about the bombs dropping, so it was probably written either in the same year, or a few before the Great War. Probably even more, since it seems to suggest the girl has not yet fully grown, but may be before the bombs dropped. Either way, you can only guess at, at this point, the girl's age in this photo, so really it becomes a matter of entering the same dates into the computer, but changing the year. If I had to guess, I'd say her date of birth is somewhere between 2077 and 2047. Obviously it's not 2077, since the bombs hadn't dropped yet, so we should probably start further back."

I had to admit, none of that staggering logic had occurred to me, but I was excited to see he'd narrowed it down so well. I was eager to start trying codes, though admittedly, I was going to have a hard time getting up. Physically, of course, because of my injuries, but also because the tiger was so damned comfortable. I had a hard time telling whether or not he found it comfortable, but for now I'd just have to enjoy it.

"Think there's much food left in there?" I asked the tiger. Depending on how long ago these raiders had settled in, and how gluttonous they were, there was a good chance all of the food was now gone, or at least most of it.

"Depends on what sort of leader this group had, if they even had one. But I'm sure there's something in there."

I sighed quietly, deciding it was best to get up and get going. After all, there could have been more raiders around, or a small group returning at some point, or perhaps a whole other group exploring, some perhaps more liberal with their ammo. But when I tried to lift myself, a great pain tore through my chest, causing me to groan loudly and fall back against Lloyd.

"Fuck," I spat, the pain still throbbing from my wound. When I looked down, there appeared to be fresh blood soaked into the bandages. "God damn it," I grumbled. I'd never felt so useless before in my entire life.

"Don't worry," said Lloyd, his paws now holding me below my ribs. For now, he moved me so he could get up, then quickly pulled me up by my right arm, the one furthest from the bullet hole. I groaned painfully as I rose, caressing the fresh wound when I was firm on my footpaws. Some of the blood dabbed on onto my pads, which worried me slightly. But Lloyd put a reassuring paw on my shoulder, taking a closer look.

"It should be fine," he said. "With any luck, some of these raiders will have collected some Stimpaks, which will help you heal. You haven't been injured much, have you."

I frowned at the tiger, now batting his paw away. "Guess I'm just a better shot."

Lloyd laughed through his nose then turned toward the door, examining the number pad embedded into the rusty old steel. He tried a few numbers, but was unsuccessful in unlocking it. He tried some more, but was again disappointed.

For now, I started to gather my things. As usual, I checked my supplies, and though I was down one Stimpak, I still had all my ammo. My Med-X's were gone, too, which had no doubt been used after being burned by the plasma mine and grenades, or perhaps to help the bullet wound. I sighed heavily, and though the constant burning in my chest made it more difficult, I zipped up my bag and placed it next to my bloody, half-burned away shirt. Fortunately the tiger had left my pants on this time, despite how torn up they were, and so it was now a simple, albeit laborious matter of strapping on my gun belts, three in total.

When I at last strapped on my plasma pistol, shifting it back and forth to make it snug, I grabbed my bag and with a bit of effort, pulled it over toward Lloyd, watching him enter codes. For now, I left my ratty, bloody shirt on the ground, not particularly wanting to slip into it now.

"Not working?" I asked rhetorically.

"Not yet."

"Y'know, the kid could've been born, like, a year before the Great War as far as we know. Not like anybody really knew the bombs were gonna drop that day."

Lloyd, who was concentrating, just grunted at me, confirming he'd heard me.

"Can I try?" I asked.

The tiger put in one more code, then sighed. "Assuming the kid in the picture is-"

"You don't know that's the daughter," I interrupted. "I mean, it's a girl, but what if, like...the father just grabbed whatever was around and scrawled his message on the photo quickly? Clearly the note was written after the date was."

Lloyd sighed again. "Does it really make a difference?"

I shrugged. "Guess not."

"If the code isn't the girl's birthday in the photo, then it could be anything."

I thought for a moment. The girl in the photograph looked like she was around eight, and since the writing looked like it'd been hastily written, perhaps something was going on, like it was only a few days or even a few months before the bombs fell. If that was the case, then the girl's birth year would be closer to 2068, or 2069, which was the part we were missing. I rubbed my chin, then gently pushed the tiger out of the way.

I rose my paw to the keypad and with only a moment's hesitation, proceeded to enter the code: 072369. And much to my delight and excitement, the door beeped a small green light twice and a loud bang echoed from within the thick door.

"Shit!" I said happily, backing away. "I did it!"

Unfortunately, that got almost no reaction out of Lloyd. Instead he just used his massive arm to pry the door open, which I enjoyed watching equally as much as unlocking the door.

"Good work," the tiger finally said, walking in.

The inside of the vault was surprisingly spacious, though it was a mess from the raiders' occupation, with a lot of ruined furniture and what looked like a couple additional chambers. This one seemed to be a living room of sorts, since it was clear this was where the raiders had spent most of their time. There was even a pool table! But of course, I was much more interested in seeing the kitchen area.

My footpaws sifted slowly through debris and garbage as I looked about the living room. There was an old, broken clock on the wall, and old broken Nuka-Cola lamp (which I kind of liked), and dozens of books on the shelves. There was still a carpet on the floor, but it looked soiled and torn. A few things I imagined weren't in here when it'd been built were several nasty old mattresses lying about, plus more in one of the bedrooms, as well as a broken old bed.

There was a large dresser and a few drawers in the first bedroom, as well as more ruined carpet and extra mattresses, but they held nothing of interest. Fortunately for me, though, there was also a couple ammo boxes beside the drawer, which luckily held a few more shotgun shells and a whole 10mm ammo clip, which I excitedly put into my bag. By habit, I paid particular attention to the weight of my bag now, so I could know how much I had left in the future.

When I made my way back into the living room, Lloyd had gone elsewhere, but I continued searching about on my own. Cans and bottles and trash lay about everywhere, as well as other additions like a metal barrel no doubt used for making fires, plus some random decorations like stringed lights.

I then poked my head into the child's room, not seeing Lloyd, finding nothing of interest but some more mattresses. How many raiders were living here? I exited the room quickly and headed toward what I hoped was at last the kitchen. Again Lloyd wasn't there, but it was, in fact, the kitchen.

The cupboard and shelf doors in the kitchen were all mostly missing, with only a few exceptions, and nothing interesting inside them, either. Nothing like food, or even weapons or ammo. Just more garbage, for god's sake. Naturally I swung around - as painful as it was - and pried open the old refrigerator door, disappointed once more to find nothing.

"What the hell?" I said angrily, having expected food to be bursting from every cupboard and shelf. And where the hell was Lloyd, anyway?

Next I wandered into the bathroom, much to my chagrin, the smell far more foul than anything I'd ever smelled before. I mean...I'd done my business out in the Wasteland hundreds of times before, and smelled it and others even more; it wasn't an uncommon smell. But whatever the fuck was stuck in the toilet's drain was not a common smell. It went so far beyond uncommon, I wasn't sure it even truly existed, like it had to be a trick of some kind. Super mutants didn't even smell that bad, and ghouls had a heavenly scent by comparison. I could even taste the nasty stench in the back of my mouth, and the only reason I stuck around long enough for it to get that far was because I saw a medical kit affixed to the wall, and had to rummage through it for supplies.

When all was said and done, and I could breathe the normal bad air, I'd managed to nab a good roll of bandages - I seemed to need these a lot lately - and a couple more Med-X's. Fortunately the pain in my chest and back wasn't so bad I needed the Med-X's now, but I was glad to have them.

"Hey," I suddenly heard from behind me, causing me to jump and nearly drop my newfound supplies.

"Jesus Christ," I barked, the sudden jolt stirring up more pain. I groaned quietly immediately after, then threw the supplies into the front pouch of my bag. "What?" I asked angrily.

"Might want to come see this," said the tiger, pointing behind him with his thumb, showing me a dark doorway.

"What is it?" I asked, moving forward. I followed him down some rickety stairs and into a gigantic chamber, far more grand than the previous few I'd just seen.

And I was in awe, not only at the sheer size of the chamber, which looked like it went on for miles - though it was obviously significantly less - but also because it was totally full of shelves. At first glance, there was at least seven different aisles, the shelves rising somewhere around ten or fifteen feet high. When I turned around, I saw this chamber went on for equally as long in the other direction, lit sporadically by some overhead lights. I had no idea what was powering these lights, but their faint, flickering glow was as much a surprise to me as the incredible mass of the room. This had to be the food storage chamber.

"Holy shit," I finally managed to say. Naturally there wasn't any food on the shelves closest to the stairs, but I did see some stuff further along, silhouetted by the dim lights. Hopefully it wasn't more garbage. "Where the fuck do we start?"

Lloyd just smiled at me, and when I caught his eyes, I couldn't help but hug him, wrapping my arms around his belly. It hurt to move my arms like that, of course, but I was too thrilled to let go.

I gave the tiger a hearty squeeze, but soon relaxed my arms, though I still held onto him. "This is amazing," I said. "We could fucking live here..."

Lloyd just put a paw gently on my back, and I felt him give me a bit of a pull, like that was his best attempt at hugging. I enjoyed it all the same.

With my paws now just resting upon his belly, on either side, I looked up at Lloyd with a big smile on my face and a heavy heartbeat, having never seen this much food in one place before. Our eyes met, and though he wasn't smiling nearly as much as me, I felt myself blush intensely. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, really, but with my paws rubbing gently at his unclothed sides and my heart pounding rapidly in my chest, I can tell you what I wanted to be doing. My eyes glanced at his old maw quickly, and I think I even felt myself push forward a bit as my own lips pursed, but with absolutely no signal from him, I was extremely hesitant to make a move.

"James," said the tiger sadly, removing his paw from my back. I then felt his entire body move away just slightly, enough to get the message across.

Great, now I was blushing and I felt fucking stupid. "I...I'm sorry," I said at last. I didn't really know what had gotten into me, whether it was the excitement from seeing so much food (a little food was rare in the Wasteland), or my sheer happiness in that I'd finally get to eat a substantial meal. That, or it was the fact I hadn't really felt anything toward another male since I was twelve, or the total lack of sexual contact that apparently went along with it. Perhaps it was a combination of all those things. Either way, it was clear Lloyd wanted no part of it.

"We should eat," he said, body now a few good inches away from mine, "then get out of here. Take as much as we can."

I sighed heavily, backing away. My face was still burning red, now more out of stupidity and embarrassment than anything. "Yeah," I responded, head hanging low, as if it'd been dragged down with my sunken heart. I could barely even look at the tiger now.

Quickly I turned around and walked away from him, feeling his eyes upon me, boring a hole in the back of my skull. "Stupid," told myself, when I was a good thirty feet away. My eyes were mostly plastered to the ground as I recalled every second of that moment, feeling even worse with every footstep. "Stupid," I muttered again, this time with a sigh. "Stupid damn otter."

When my eyes finally peeled away from the messy floor, they came upon multitudes of cans of food I'd never seen before, like a green one that said "corn" on it, while another said "peas." I'd never eaten corn or peas before, but it had to be better than Cram. On the incredibly rare occasion - more rare than finding food all together - I'd find a box of Gumdrops, though there were usually only a few left, like someone had eaten some and ran. In a place like this, I imagined a whole shelf full of Gumdrops, and maybe even Bubblegum and other sweet things. My mouth started to water a little thinking about shoving something other than a Fancy Lad in there.

Perhaps there'd be delicious sugary foods I hadn't even heard of before. I tried to imagine, but my poor, irradiated brain couldn't come up with anything. All I could see was all the junk food I already knew about, completely unable to imagine something entirely new, such as these so-called "carrots" I just passed by. They looked suspiciously like canned vegetables though, something I was hardly interested in at that moment. All I wanted now was some sort of new candy or cake, or some variation on that, something that was a brand new taste and brand new texture for my maw, something to get me excited again. After my pitiful attempt at kissing Lloyd, the old tiger he was, I needed something to pick me up.

After a while of just perusing random shelves, I came upon one shelf - just one four-foot section - with a whole bunch of...tablets, was the only word that came to mind. Flat, purple packages that were roughly six inches long and three wide, and said CocoaMilk in white letters. I hadn't heard of this before, but I was oddly drawn to the crinkly, paper-wrapped foil packaging with a small picture of a milk bottle on it. It didn't smell like anything, and wasn't particularly flashy in any way, and yet I so attracted to it I grabbed two more and shoved all three into my bag with barely a thought. Even as I walked away from the shelf, I kept it clear in the back of my mind, like it was calling out to me and begging me to return, but I had to save room for other things... Perhaps Lloyd would take some, too.

Although the big, old tiger and I were in the food chamber for what felt like hours, we finally did pack our bags full of food - myself grabbing more adventurous stuff - and headed back out toward the cave antechamber with our paws full of what we would be eating now. Naturally I grabbed a few familiar things, just in case the new stuff was awful. In general, though, when surviving in the Wasteland, you never turned down food, no matter how bad or inedible it was.

Together we sat back down by the modest fire Lloyd had made, not a word shared between us. When we sat down, I of course began instantly remembering just a few hours ago when Lloyd, for as big and brutal as he was, held onto my cold, shivering body to keep me warm, so soft and so tender. If nothing else, he was giving me completely mixed signals.

Who does that, anyway? The bastard saves my life twice, feeds me, keeps me warm - I still felt a constant chill, despite that - then pushes me away when I try to kiss him. When I thought about it, though, I never really did get any signals from him. He smiled at me a couple times, and I suppose he'd probably have saved anybody's life who was near him, unless they were a raider. Nice, generous people... No one was like that in the Wasteland, never in my experience. But this tiger, I felt like he would give his life to help me, and wanted nothing in return. I found that almost hard to imagine.

I glanced over at the strong tiger while stuffing my face full of some sort of canned, seasoned poultry - he was eating much more delicately than me - sighing quietly to myself. He'd beaten me and all of his enemies so brutally, but dressed my wounds with the most tender paws I'd ever felt before. Truly he was a mystery, a mystery I couldn't stop staring at, and despite what'd happened, still wanted that kiss.

When I began thinking about that, though, it, too, was an odd thought. The tiger was at least twenty years older than me, scarred, and fat. Not exactly qualities I'd looked for throughout my lifetime, at least not since Chase. Always seemed to yield the same results, though, which could at times be very discouraging. What was it about me, anyway, that seemed to turn guys away?

Most people in the Wasteland, they'd take just about anything they could get, though would insist they're straight. I was thoroughly gay, and despite the stereotypes which amazingly survived the Great War, you probably wouldn't think so just by looking at me. But it's true. Women are great and all, and some I could even say are attractive, but personally, I wasn't attracted to them one bit. Never have been, never will be. And yet despite the fact I was totally into guys - perhaps I'd never made it obvious enough - I could never seem to pick them up.

And they weren't all straight, lemme tell you. Some you knew right away, while others just asked for money up-front. Most of the obvious gay furs were townies or city-dwellers, completely uninterested in the Wasteland and all she had to offer. So even though there were sometimes mutual attractions, I was always left to wander alone. Perhaps it was fate playing some cruel trick on me, repaying me for abandoning my home and my parents. I was never a big believer in fate, however.

I then sighed again, just after swallowing the last of my surprisingly tasty poultry - it tasted a bit off, perhaps because it wasn't irradiated - and watched as Lloyd pushed a bit more food in his maw, and of course his big muscles flexing as he did. Bits of food were stuck in the old fur on his muzzle, which I hoped he'd wipe away, and despite that uncouth display of eating habits, I still found myself annoyingly attracted to him.

Stupid otter, I continued to say to myself in my head. I had no idea how either of us were supposed to survive this journey with my feeling this way, and of course his feeling that way. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered he'd been married once, and knew that was probably the simple answer to all these irritating questions, and yet something else continued to nag at me.

Suppose it was just because I was so unused to kindness in the Wasteland, I'd accidentally mistook his for some kind of feelings. Mixed with the fact I hadn't had any since I was a kid makes for some very confused emotions. And a very frustrated otter.

At last Lloyd finished his meal, if you could call it that, and after gathering our things and getting fully dressed, we were off exploring the Wasteland once again, heading south. Naturally we walked along the road, myself dragging behind slightly and if I wasn't staring at the tiger, then I was stuck staring at the ground.

My thoughts, predictably, were focused on that damned kiss that never happened, and the annoyance of my still increasing feelings for the tiger, which only served to make me angry with him, too, bubbling away inside. I wasn't really angry, at least not at Lloyd. More at myself, feeling stupid for trying anything at all with him, and for having these damned emotions to begin with. I kept trying to tell myself he was just a nice guy and would have saved anybody in those situations. He'd have given his own food away to anybody, and helped bandage them up if they needed it. No matter who he was with, he'd have kept them warm after they were shot, having carried them to safety despite his own injuries. There wasn't anything special about me, and I was a fool for ever thinking otherwise...wasn't I?

"Hey," said Lloyd suddenly, his voice booming at me from about ten feet ahead. The tiger slowed down a bit. "You okay? Do you need to eat?"

The sun was just beginning to set by the time he actually said something to me, and my footpaws were tired, but I wasn't about to start complaining. My wounds were hurting, too, including all my burns.

"I'm fine," I answered softly, finally looking up at him. When I finally caught up, he continued walking with me. "Just, you know... Bit sore."

The tiger grunted, suggesting he knew what I meant. I noticed he, too, had some wounds, probably from the raider fight, though he'd patched them up himself and looked in pretty good shape. I imagined I looked like shit, though I'd never given that much thought before.

"Do you need me to carry your bag for you?" he asked, though he seemed to be carrying enough as it was.

"I don't get it," I quickly said, my thoughts finally boiling over.

The tiger just looked at me with inquisitive eyes.

I sighed for the hundredth time that day. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Lloyd didn't respond, but instead kept looking at me as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

"You saved my life twice already," I started. "By all rights, I should probably be dead. But you fucking fought for me, for my protection, all for what..?"

"Do I need a reason to save a life? Would you not do the same for me?"

I hesitated, then chose not to answer that question. In all honesty, I wasn't sure I would have done the same. "I just don't fucking get it," I repeated, now more grumbling to myself. "Nobody does anything unless it benefits them, and frankly, my life isn't worth shit. You'd neither lose nor gain anything from my death, so saving me was just a waste of your time, energy, and food. And if you actually used a gun, it'd be a waste of your ammo, too. But still, all the injuries you have now are because of me, because you saved me. It... It doesn't make any damn sense."

And still that stupid tiger didn't have a god-damned response, which infuriated me. "Will you fucking say something?"

Lloyd finally settled on a shrug. "What do you want me to say? You're right, I had no reason to save your pitiful life, especially after you tried mugging me. But I did, and that's that."

I sighed out of frustration, face stuck in a frown. "Then why feed me? Why waste your medical supplies? Why..?" I began to blush as I started the third question. "Why hold me by the fire?"

Lloyd paused briefly before answering, glancing at me and no doubt noticing the heavy dash of red streaking across my face. I was just glad he wasn't holding me now, otherwise he'd feel my stupid heavy heartbeat, too. "There would be no point in saving your life if I didn't take care of you after. Using those supplies was so I could save your life."

I blushed even more. "So...why am I worth it, then?"

He never gave me an answer, but when I looked into his old, greyish-amber eyes I could somehow see he had one, like there was something he wasn't telling me. I couldn't imagine what it was, or even how I knew it was there, and yet that particular glint told me otherwise. I just ended the conversation with another quiet sigh, then handed Lloyd my bag.

With the sun setting once more, the two of us began looking out for a good place to rest for the night. But with mostly barren or otherwise flat land all around us, we weren't left with many options. Camping at the side of a road was never a good idea, since most slavers and other unsavoury folk took the roads, though the irradiated wildlife did tend to stay away. Fortunately less than an hour later, before actually considering it, we came over a short hill and saw what appeared to be an old, ruined house, which was quite possibly home to a vineyard once - the soil was hardly ideal for growing grapes these days, though. Nevertheless, it was a sight for sore eyes and Lloyd and I headed straight for it - we took the natural precautions, of course.

Walking quietly, myself holding onto my guns as best I could, so as to reduce their noise against my hips, Lloyd and I approached the dilapidated building, mostly just its stone structure remaining. Time and weather had clearly eroded the wooden parts away. Still, a good portion of the structure had at one point collapsed in on itself, but the place was big enough where it looked like it'd provide adequate shelter and a reasonably comfortable foundation to sleep upon. With any luck there'd be an old mattress or at least a good pile of grass or something, though that usually meant people. Sometimes friendly people, but not often.

Anyway, the two of us listened carefully to our surroundings, hearing nothing but the distant chattering of Radscorpions and the incessant screeching of Radcrickets (or perhaps they were normal crickets, I wasn't too sure). Either way, we heard no voices, no guns being loaded, and noticed no orangey glow of a campfire, nor heard its distinct, sharp crackling. The coast seemed clear.

When we came to the entrance of what must have been a very grand house at some time, I had the fortunate task of poking my head cautiously around the corner. I held my breath as my ears and head became exposed, crouched down somewhat as my eyes came around the corner, peering through the empty doorway and seeing nothing. With a quiet, heavy breath, I snuck further into the entrance, being careful not to step on anything noisy, and fortunately the coast was still clear.

The place looked clearly abandoned, and no signs of life presented themselves. I told Lloyd there was nobody around and it was safe to come through, and together we searched about. Wooden shelves and doors were ruined and thrown about, while the rest of the house simply lay crumbled beneath us. There were dozens of glass bottles all over, most of which were broken, so we had to be extra careful wandering around. So far, so good. Still no life signs, nor even any clues to suggest people had been here before. And if people had, they hadn't stuck around long enough to set up any sort of camp. Perhaps there would be something interesting hidden around here, something nobody's found before.

But with the sun now casting brilliant hues in the dusty, cloudy sky, and my body even colder than before, Lloyd decided it would be a better idea to make a campfire and try to get some rest. And I couldn't have agreed with him more. I helped him gather what bits of wood I could for the fire, unable to carry much for too far, but at last I sat down, sighing heavily as I came to rest against the stone foundation of the building.

"Just kill me," I muttered to myself, eyes closed. My back was incredibly sore and the burns I'd suffered were bothering me. Oh, and the bullet hole in my chest was throbbing. For now I curled my knees up to my chest, as painful as it was, and crossed my arms tightly, trying to keep warm. Within moments Lloyd had the fire going, but like before, it didn't help.

"I can't get fucking warm," I said aloud, not expecting Lloyd to hold me again. He just looked over at me, holding a couple pieces of wood in his paws, then sat down as he threw them into the flames. After yelling at him earlier that day, he was no doubt hesitant to assist me in any way. He had carried my bag for me, though.

But for now, I was left to sit alone trying to keep warm, hungry but not wanting to eat. With any luck, sleep would make me feel better, since at that moment I still felt incredibly stupid, and of course in pain. It was a constant pain, throbbing some places, searing in others. I'd only ever burned myself on a fire before, usually on a pot or something and just on my paw pads. But these burns had destroyed my fur and seared my flesh. I had no idea if fur would ever grow back there again, nor how bad the burns really were, but I knew they gave off a constant sharp sting, even with the bandages. I just shifted around uncomfortably, wanting to scratch the shit out of my wounds, but obviously knowing it was a bad idea. I just sighed angrily.

"What is it?" asked Lloyd, as if he didn't know.

"Nothing," I insisted. I leaned forward and with great pain, unbuckled my gun belts and tossed them beside my bag, now letting my paws rest beside me. What a rotten last few days I'd had, being cut and bruised and burned and shot. Never in my life had I suffered so many injuries in so short a time. I'd been shot before, though never directly. Always seemed to be flesh wounds at worst, which hurt like hell, but never like this. Of course I'd been punched and cut dozens of times, half the cuts caused by my own stupid self - the only cut I didn't know about was on my left cheek, which I'd had since I was a pup. And like I'd said, I've only suffered very minor burns. They were nothing compared to this. My flesh felt ablaze, and yet I was freezing. Perhaps I needed some water.

I reached toward my bag and quickly pulled out a small bottle of clean water, staring at the fire through it for a long moment, watching a tiny drop of perspiration run down the side. Licking my lips, I screwed off the cap shakily and tossed it carelessly aside, still gazing into the clear, nourishing liquid. Clean water was even harder to find in the Wasteland than food, and since the food-vault had both aplenty, I felt like I could really enjoy this bottle while it lasted. Most of the time if you did find a full bottle, you'd have to make it last at least a week, if not more, before needing more.

But at last, I put my dry, tired lips around the moist end of the bottle and like my Nuka-Cola from a few days before, threw back my head and began to chug. The cool, soothing water ran down my throat with refreshing ease, and I held my breath as the bottle emptied. I could feel it splashing hard into my empty stomach, reminding me again I hadn't eaten since late-morning, but damn did it feel nice in there. When the bottle was finally empty, I tore the plastic rim from my mouth and let out a loud, sudden sigh, licking my lips as my body relaxed, and already I started to feel better. I just leaned back against the stone wall and took a few deep breaths as I rubbed my poor stomach, finally deciding I should probably eat something, too.

Having been satisfied with what I'd eaten that morning, I pulled out a similar can labelled "ham," tearing off the lid with a little effort. More or less ignoring Lloyd at this point, I simply dug into the can with my paw and shoved the meat into my mouth unceremoniously, though I found it wasn't nearly as tasty as the poultry. But never one to complain about food, I scarfed it down quickly and washed it down with the few drops left in my water bottle, then sighed quietly once more.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long after when I started to notice my sores again, heating up and itching painfully beneath the bandages. I frowned with my eyes closed, shifting slightly but trying to keep still, trying to get some rest.

"You sure you're okay?" asked Lloyd suddenly, who had also chosen to eat something. As usual, considering his size, he was eating much less voraciously than I had.

"My fucking burns," I said, shifting again. I was trying very hard not to scratch them.

"You may need to change your bandages," the tiger suggested.

"Fuck me," I groaned. I wasn't particularly into that idea right now.

Lloyd shrugged. "It needs to be done. You don't want to get an infection, because that's something a Stimpak can't even help with."

"Do we even have enough?"

Lloyd nodded. "I made sure to grab extras from the vault."

That was sweet of him, and something I hadn't even thought of.

"God damn it," I said to myself. "Fine..."

The tiger nodded again then pulled a couple rolls of bandages from his bag, then on his knees approached me, telling me to move away from the wall. "Fortunately your burns aren't too bad. Nothing worse than second-degree."

"How the hell do you know that?" I asked as I removed my shirt. I hadn't touched my pants yet, especially since I was still sitting on my bum. For now, the tiger was behind me, while the fire burned to our right; I was pointed toward the exit of the ruins.

Lloyd's gentle paws ran quietly up my back then I felt him tugging at the knot he'd tied as he began to work dutifully. I lifted my arms as he unwrapped the old, smelly bandages, and answered my question. "Things I've picked up along the way," he simply said. "I've been surviving in the Wasteland since before you were born, James. Medicine is an extremely useful skill to have, if even a basic knowledge of it. Cuts, gunshot wounds, and burns are among the first things you learn to treat, mostly from personal experience."

"How many times've you been shot before?" I asked as the last of the bandages came off from around my torso. A lot of my chest and the top half of my mid-section were covered in splotchy burns, mostly on my right side. The tiger used a bottle of his own water to wash away whatever crap had built up, which was both soothing and torturous at the same time.

"More than ten," said the tiger, his soft paws carefully caressing my wet, burnt skin as he cleaned it off. It was extremely painful and very sensitive, but I could tell the old tiger was being as cautious with me as he could. "I've suffered many flesh wounds, but I have also been shot directly in the shoulder, as well as another in my thigh and my shin. And my paw, as I've mentioned. The shin was undoubtedly the worst."

Despite my current condition, I felt inclined to agree with him.

"You ever hit you shin bone before, like on a chair or something?" Lloyd was patting down my burns now with a white pad of some kind.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Hurts like a son-of-a-bitch."

"Well, imagine someone swinging a baseball bat as hard as they could and smashing it right into your shin."

I wrinkled my nose and cringed at the thought.

"That's the immediate pain." The tiger was now wrapping up with the new bandages, which he attached firmly around my body, yet careful not to wrap it too tightly. As usual, he was being very gentle with me, which of course was sending me mixed messages again. Logic told me if he was as competent with medicine as he seemed to be, he'd have been equally as careful with anybody, and yet some part of me was picking up some sort of...feeling. It wasn't something I could accurately describe, but I knew I didn't get this sort of feeling from anyone else I'd met in my travels.

"As you know," continued the tiger, "shock kicks in, you fall, then can barely move or even breath for a little while. Then it's just an intense, burning pain far greater than anything you've ever felt before. Like someone taking a piece of metal and heating it up until it glows, then stabbing it through the hole and leaving it there indefinitely. I don't recommend it." Lloyd laughed quietly at his last statement.

I just frowned a little, then felt him finish up. His large, old paws ran down my back softly, as if to make sure everything was in place. Really, I think the stupid tiger just liked making me blush, which I was currently doing. A lot.

"Hold out your arms," he said, and I did so obediently. Unlike my torso, both my arm wrappings came off quickly and the tiger washed the blistery wounds with ease, his enormous digits gliding delicately over my damaged skin and (comparatively) small muscles. If I didn't know any better, I'd have sworn the tiger was feeling me up, but of course I knew he was just dutifully dressing my wounds.

"Your pants," The tiger then suggested, almost immediately after tying the small knot in the bandages behind my right arm, which had suffered almost entirely from one of the plasma grenades - the plasma mine was the one responsible for the burns on my tail and around my back. My left arm had suffered a minimal amount by comparison; only a few patches above and below my elbow.

The "ham" lurched terribly in my stomach and my face glowed a whole new shade of red. "Serious?"

"Not unless you want to do those bandages yourself."

"You haven't done my tail yet." Although I desperately wanted to take my pants off for him, the fact it was far from mutual made me want to keep them on. As far as I knew, Lloyd wasn't only straight, but he could be a total homophobe, too. Then again, if he was that homophobic, he wouldn't want to see me nude under any circumstances.

"Your tail would be significantly easier with you awake," he said, "and standing. As well as your legs. You have no idea how much of a pain it is, as much as I needed to do it, to bandage your wounds when you're unconscious."

I frowned again, though I wasn't sure it had ever left my face. My blush sure hadn't, anyway. I then sighed quietly, both paws upon my belt buckle. My right forefinger tapped at the belt, then at last I unhooked everything. With a bit of effort, I stood up - Lloyd did have to help me for a moment - then released my belt completely, letting my loose pants drop around my ankles. Fortunately, for as much as I was blushing, my back (and my bare bum) was to the tiger, and somehow I could feel his eyes upon me.

A moment later, I had to gasp when I felt his paws grip around my tail, gently sliding upward toward its base, then fiddling with the knot he'd made days ago. I was trying hard to control my breathing, but it was difficult with his damned paws sliding all up and down my wet, now clean tail. My tail, as I'd kept a closely guarded secret from almost everyone who has ever known me, was a very erogenous zone for me, from tip to base. Had been for as long as I could remember, and I hadn't the faintest idea why.

Though it burned and stung as he cleaned and dabbed my burns, I couldn't help but breath in sharply, trying hard not to make any sounds. I hated this tiger so much, and yet he was driving me completely crazy. I was breathing through my nose at that moment, in vain attempts not to give myself away, though I had to wonder just how obvious it was. Either way, my maw was open a crack and I fortunately managed to mute every one of my few moans, though my face was aflame with blush. Of course, worst of all was the increasing threat of an erection, which I'd so far miraculously managed to keep down, or at the very least, keep from poking out of my sheath. Without a doubt, I was getting harder.

When at last the tiger finished re-bandaging my tail, I let out an enormous sigh of relief, and hoped he didn't need to come around to my front in order to rewrap my legs, both of which had suffered burns. Luckily, as far as I knew, they weren't particularly bad burns, perhaps closer to first-degree, though still felt like hell.

"You okay?" asked Lloyd suddenly, having gone at least ten minutes without saying anything. He was on his knees behind me, just looking up at my thin, naked body.

Well, not thin so much as lean. I was fairly muscular, in my opinion, yet retained a lithe, smooth body us otters are well known for having. Most of us, anyway, who stay in shape. I liked to think I was strong, at any rate, especially when it came to Wasteland Survival. Getting shot, unfortunately, was just another thing to learn out here, like how to deal with it and what to do afterwards. I think the most common outcome was dying.

Anyway, I could feel his eyes all over my body, though it seemed unlikely he paid it much mind, and it was making me nervous. "Yeah," I finally said. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm going to do your legs now."

I nodded, arms lowered now, and just peered over my shoulder, which hurt my neck. He was still down there, probably looking at my balls from behind, which he could easily do, though I had to keep telling myself he wasn't interested. The tiger started with my left leg, where the bandages were a bit above my knee and over my entire calf, removing them promptly and again cleaning it to the best of his ability, considering he didn't have anything but water to clean it with. Nevertheless, Lloyd was quick to rewrap my leg, then began on my right.

The bandages around my right leg were around my thigh, for the most part, nearly the entire thing. It was closer toward my bum, too, which meant his paws were going to be in very close proximity to both my rear, and eventually my balls. As if he hadn't turned me on enough while doing my tail, he was going to practically be touching my bits. Oh well. Didn't have much choice, beyond doing it myself.

Soon enough, he peeled off the smelly bandages and threw them aside, using the last bit of water he had in the bottle to rinse off my burns and patted it down gently. Naturally, I had to spread my legs a bit more so he could get closer to my inner thigh, which made me gasp slightly. His damn paws were so intensely gentle, they tickled my already sensitive areas and made me even more erect. As he began wrapping the last bit of bandages around my thigh, I swore I felt his paw just barely scrape against the underside of my balls, which made me blush hard and gasp again. My paws were shaking slightly, and I wanted nothing more than for this tiger to just stop and pleasure me. But of course I already knew his inclinations, and they sure as hell didn't involve me.

I just sighed quietly as he finished up. "Done?" I asked, even though I knew there wasn't any left.

"You're all patched up," said the tiger.

I crossed my arms around my chest, feeling a chill again. It hadn't occurred to me until it came back, but when his paws were all over me, I didn't even notice much pain or the chill. That made me blush some more, though I wasn't sure if I was actually blushing more, or just feeling it again. Either way, my face was red.

"Thank you," I said modestly, still not turning around. When the tiger stood up, I felt him towering over me, which was both a little intimidating and embarrassing. I hadn't ever been so vulnerable before, and if I ever had, I'd been able to take care of myself afterwards. I was too unused to this sort of attention; this sort of help.

"Are you still cold?" the tiger asked.

"Uh," I answered. My arms were still crossed over my chest. "Yeah, but you don't..."

Before I could finish that statement, the enormous, fat tiger put his big arms around me, careful not to reopen any wounds or burst any blisters. His body - his clothed body - pressed against my back, and he simply let his arms drape across my front, his paws connected below my arms.

"You don't have to do this," I said, turning my head slightly.

The tiger didn't respond.

I just frowned, then struggled a bit. "Stop," I growled quietly, until I struggled a bit harder -which hurt my freshly dressed wounds - and the tiger let me go. "Don't fucking touch me, y'got it?"

Lloyd looked at me through stone cold eyes, expressing no emotion. He didn't even look confused.

"God damn you," I said, turning around. My paws were clenched into fists and I was a step away from punching the old bastard in the face. "I don't fucking get you," I shouted angrily. "Why the fuck're you doing all this for me now, anyway? I mean...fuck!" I usually showed a lot more variety in my cursing, but when I get really pissed off, I just tend to say "fuck" a lot.

"For fuck's sake," I added, now breathing heavily through my nose. My nose was wrinkled a bit, and though you may not think it, we otters have pretty sharp teeth to bare.

And still the damned tiger wasn't offering any sort of explanation, which I thought was kind of obvious I wanted right now. But nothing I could do would pry the information out of him. All he did was stare at me - I was still naked of course, and thankfully no longer erect - with those stupid, surprisingly expressive eyes which just confused me. He was conveying something with those eyes. Not any sort of emotion, but - as strange as it sounds - a story. There was something he knew that I obviously didn't know, and it was undoubtedly something I'd be interested in knowing. But for whatever reason he was holding back, whatever it actually was he was hiding.

"I ought to punch you right in the fucking mouth," I said, paws still in fists. "You know, I can handle myself. I told you, I've been on my own practically my whole life. Half it, anyway, and I've suffered through a lot. I never needed anyone to keep me warm, and I sure as hell don't need it now. You keep your damn paws to yourself, y'understand? I don't have to fucking stick around here with you, and I'm well enough to make it on my own."

Though he wasn't saying anything, I could somehow tell he wanted me to stay, though of course I couldn't imagine why. Could be it was part of what he wasn't telling me, which naturally made me curious enough to stay. Damn, stupid tiger.

"You're kind to me one moment, then turn me away the next. I know you had a wife and kid, but shit, you're giving me mixed fucking messages here. If you don't wanna tell me what the hell's going on in that thick head of yours, fine, but don't pretend you're into me if you're really just being nice."

I then sighed with annoyance after Lloyd retained his silence. I frowned at him, then sat painfully down by the fire. I was sitting on uncomfortable rocks and dirt, but it wasn't anything I wasn't used to. Ignoring the beast now, I watched from the corner of my eye as he sat back down, expressing no emotion. In retrospect, I kind of felt bad for snapping at him, but I was sick of the mixed signals he was constantly giving me. He had to know by this point how I felt toward him, and it was bullshit if he was just playing with that.

"I'm going to sleep," I said, arms crossed over my chest again. Unlike back at the food-vault, I was sleeping alone, which was what I was far more accustomed to. I laid down on my left side, head resting against a smooth, round rock, knees brought up to my chest as I shivered and tried to get some sleep. I felt the warmth of the fire, but like before, it didn't help.

I then sighed quietly through my nose and closed my eyes, shivering slightly as the darkness poured over our little camp and the night-time creatures began to stir. I could hear Lloyd moving about, but I tried my best to ignore him.

At some point in the night I'd actually managed to sleep, though I had no idea when. It was still dark, though, when I opened my eyes again, hardly feeling rested and with a pain in my neck; rocks didn't make the most comfortable bedding, but I hardly had any choice. Either way, I tried sleeping again, at least until the sun started to rise, but it never came. The fire, too, had gone out before I awoke, which didn't help my chill. I just sighed and sat up, eyes heavy and dreary yet horribly awake.

"Fuck me," I groaned quietly, eyes closed anyway. After an indeterminable amount of time, I finally decided, since I had such an excess of food, to try that so-called CocoaMilk. I was dubious, naturally, but I retrieved it from my bag anyway, the paper wrapper crinkling loudly in the silence of the night.

When at last I had it open, which doing so quietly was a task unto itself, I snapped off a single row of the hard, yet somewhat soft brown bar, giving it a sniff like I did with anything new I was about to try. It smelled...sweet, like a Fancy Lad cake, yet warm and smooth. It didn't bombard my nose, but instead lifted it, and even made me close my eyes. Whatever this was, I felt it would be very delicious, and probably not particularly nutritious. I gave the soft, soothing bar another deep whiff, taking in the sweet, earthy tones until at last I pressed it against my tongue, then bit off a piece.

At first I wasn't sure what to make of the taste, but I knew immediately I enjoyed it. The wonderful smells it'd produced after snapping off came out even more in my mouth, the hard, flat tablet melting softly on my tongue and spreading outward. It was certainly sweet, yet not too sweet, but definitely a powerful taste, subdued perfectly by its incredible creaminess. For now, I simply let it melt, pushing it around my maw with delight, spreading out the smooth, rich flavour until I bit down at last. After just a few bites, a thick brown cream now coating the inside of my maw, I swallowed it with a gentle smile.

"Mmm," I uttered, resting back against the wall. I had no idea what this stuff was, but I sure as hell liked it. Without a doubt, it was something to savour, unlike normal food which you just wanted to get down as fast as you could.

It was after finishing off the rest of the row I'd snapped off - and after putting it back in my bag for later - when I finally glanced over at Lloyd, who seemed to be resting peacefully. I sighed quietly at the topless tiger, noticing those two glowing pendants again, which were quite faint. They were intriguing, to say the least, and out of curiosity I wanted to look at them more closely, but risked waking the slumbering beast. So instead I just watched him some more, his chest and belly rising and lowering as he breathed deeply, as well as the arm resting upon it.

"God damn you, Lloyd," I said quietly to myself, wanting to go to him and pet him gently. Though he remained mostly emotionless, I could sense a great pain inside him, as well as a host of other things I could barely recognize. There was no doubt in my mind that he was hiding stuff from me, or rather, simply not sharing. I suppose it wasn't any of my business, but I wasn't asking him to tell, either. The way he was acting, though, told me clearly he had more to share. Perhaps whatever it was he wasn't telling, somehow involved me. I couldn't imagine how that'd be possible, but in the Wasteland, stranger things have happened.

Naturally, in my tired daze, I began fantasizing about the enormous tiger, which started completely inadvertently. At first I was just picturing the rest of his body at other angles without his top on, but somehow that evolved into complete nudity, though I had a very hard time imagining what his junk looked like. He was an old tiger, and the only nude old person I'd ever seen was Chase from years ago, and I had very poor memory of what exactly his genitals looked like.

I sighed again, quickly realizing after that thought, I'd gone to bed nude. It was also then when I realized I was starting to become hard again, thinking about stupid Lloyd Thompson. I couldn't even think of what it was I liked about it, nor what turned me on. He was fat and old, a quality I wasn't particularly into, and yet when I imagined him nude, he was very strapping. I just shook my head and shuddered at the thought, and yet my damn mind kept going back there.

Emotionally, I think my attraction came from his absolute kindness he'd shown toward me, as well as from saving my worthless life several times, and wanting nothing in return. He'd carried me away to safety, so warm and so strong. His big, powerful arms, when they held me, could protect me from anything, or so it seemed, and I found myself, despite last night, wanting to be held in those arms once more. But I think I wanted him to do it not to be kind, but because he wanted to be that close to me, too.

But was that asking too much? Perhaps I should just take whatever I could get, since companionship was so impossible to find out in the Wasteland. I would have to settle, I think, on what Lloyd was willing to give me, considering the circumstances. He was most likely straight, but sensitive to the needs of others, or perhaps for some particular reason, to the needs of me. But then why me? Was that part of what he was hiding? Did we know each other at some point? I feel like I'd remember a tiger that monstrously large.

Suddenly Lloyd stirred, and I just froze. I looked away, of course, yet kept my eyes upon him. He didn't wake up, it seemed, but probably just shifted to get more comfortable, or at least as comfortable as sleeping on rubble could get.

Having had no particular attraction to big muscles before, I found myself oddly wanting to go touch his. Perhaps because it was such an oddity, I wanted desperately to feel what having such an enormous body would actually feel like, since mine was tiny by comparison. Don't get me wrong, I was well-toned and reasonably strong (wounds notwithstanding), but I found it impossible to imagine what having arms the size of peoples' heads would be like. I mean, he could lift me up like I was nothing. Hell, getting hit by that fucking spiked metal club of his would probably be equally as destructive and painful as any gunshot wound, particularly a shotgun. He probably hit as hard as Lucky did.

Unfortunately I began imagining myself wrapped in those large arms of his, paws up on his big, powerful chest and rubbing my pads through his soft fur. In my mind, the muscles were hard, especially when he flexed them, and very curvy and bulgy, and for reasons I couldn't come close to comprehending, that turned me on. Which meant, with Lloyd beginning to stir again (this time I think to wake up), I would still be sitting there naked with a bright pink shaft that was poking three inches out of my sheath.

I tried frantically to cover myself up, reaching painfully for my pants next to my bag, but just as my paw came upon them, I glanced over and was frightened to see Lloyd's amber eyes upon me, the tiger now sitting up. If he was looking, he would have a clear view of my shaft, and like a fool I just stayed frozen.

"You're up," was all he said, leaning on one paw for now. He looked even more elderly when he was tired.

"Y-Yeah," I managed, finally pushing my pants into my crotch, now just on my knees. I wasn't going to put them on yet. "Couldn't sleep well."

"We have a long day ahead of us," said the tiger. "You may want your rest."

"Why?"

Lloyd sat up further and yawned, showing his great, old teeth and dozens of wrinkles in his face. "I hope to make it to civilization before next nightfall," he said, scratching his fat belly. "Hopefully they will get us on the right track to finding that vault. It will be our last stop before Ronto, I think. Not unless they have another hideout nearby."

"How likely is that?" I asked, still waiting for my erection to go down. It seemed silly now, since Lloyd undoubtedly knew why I was covering myself. He'd already seen me naked - several times - and I didn't particularly care; it was my hard, full sheath I didn't want him seeing.

The tiger shrugged. "In my experience, they're spread fairly far apart."

"How many have you hit so far, anyway?"

"Not including this next one? Seventeen."

For some reason that surprised me, more that he'd managed to survive them all. "You serious?"

The tiger nodded.

"How long have you been hunting them for?"

"Well over ten years now, probably closer to twelve."

"That's a long time," I said needlessly. A moment later, I realized I was no longer poking out, or at least near enough so it didn't matter. I sighed quietly and relaxed, shifting to sit on my bum. I just let my pants fall in front of me.

The tiger shifted quietly, then glanced over at me. He just kept staring, which made me blush a little. He looked like he had something to say. "I must...apologize," he simply said, giving me a hard look.

"Uh," I started, "okay. What for..?"

"For my behaviour the last couple days. I think perhaps I have been letting my paternal instincts get the better of me, to the discomfort of us both."

I hadn't found it uncomfortable so much as confusing and arousing and irritating.

"It's okay," I said, head lowered a bit. "I probably didn't need to snap at you, anyway." Now this was uncomfortable.

The tiger just nodded, then turned around to retrieve some food, and I did the same. This time it was "corn," which looked quite good. On the front was a picture of several long, yellow objects, presumably the "corn," with green leaves on one end, much like how I imagined bananas were before the Great War. I had a hard time imagining, though, stuffing these long things into such tiny cans, but perhaps the picture was simply enlarged.

Either way, I opened the can with ease, many of the cans having tabs which made opening easier, only to discover the yellow bits had all been chopped off and thrown into the can, answering all my questions. Well, my questions about the corn, anyway. Still, I wasn't too sure how to eat it, since the bits were all very small, but I figured if I wasn't going to use my paws, then I could simply consume it like I might a can of soup.

The corn, as it happens, was nothing special. Certainly not as incredible as the CocoaMilk. It was tasty, nevertheless, if not quite salty. The corn itself was crunchy and sweet and much more filling than I'd initially imagined, and it slid down my throat with ease. By the end, I was reasonably satisfied, and would be relieved feeling the difference in my bag. When I glanced into my bag, I checked my ammo, my medical supplies, and of course my food; everything was there, which included a few more cans of various items, and of course two extra CocoaMilk bars, an investment I was more than glad I'd made.

When I finally finished eating every last kernel of corn, I tossed the can into the spent ashes of our fire and stretched out, still sitting down, trying my best to work the soreness out of my body. It was actually kind of nice, all things considered, being naked in the Wasteland. It provided no protection, of course, but in that moment, it was very liberating. It would feel more so, I imagined, if Lloyd wasn't there, but liberating all the same. I'd consider walking around like this if it wasn't so dangerous.

Then as if on cue, Lloyd looked at me and said, "You going to get dressed?"

"I was just starting to get used to being naked," I told him, but grabbed my pants anyway. By that time, the sun had already poked its head up and began lighting up the sky, though it was still quite dark out.

Lloyd was giving me an odd look as I grabbed my pants, as if he had a comment to make but chose not to. More than likely, it was something that would irritate me.

Regardless, I stood up with shaky legs, and with using the wall as support, I put on my pants and tightened the belt, which was kind of falling apart. But it did what it was supposed to, which in the Wasteland was all you could ask.

When I looked back at Lloyd, ready to make some smartass comment, I suddenly froze, paw automatically slapping against my hip, which quickly made me realize I hadn't yet strapped on my guns. My face, I felt, went instantly pale, watching as a big fucking Radscorpion crawled out from between some rubble with shocking silence, creeping up behind the tiger.

"Lloyd," I said, getting his attention. I think he heard the fear and urgency in my voice. "Don't...fucking...move."

The Radscorpion seemed to be cautiously making its way toward us, a good ten feet behind Lloyd, but what petrified me the most was when I saw a few more sets of legs moving from between the broken parts of the wall, which meant at least two more of them. Slowly, not wanting to force the Radscorpion to suddenly, I made my way toward Lucky and my bag.

"What..?"

When the Radscorpion was a good five feet away - plenty of room to attack something in front of it with its long, spiny tail - I suddenly bent down and for as painful as it was, quickly drew Lucky from its holster and pointed it straight toward the tiger, which apparently startled him.

"Move!" I shouted, and just as Lloyd lunged forward, narrowly avoiding injury, I pulled both triggers and blasted the Radscorpion's face off, spreading a three-foot long trail of guts, chitin and blood. But no sooner had I pulled the triggers, the others began to attack.

Lloyd was quick to find his brutal weapon, and since they were coming at us quickly, leaving me little time to reload my shotgun, I instead bent down and grabbed my plasma pistol, aiming it quickly. Just as the first one poked its head around some rubble, I shot it right in the face, which only phased it for a moment - damn energy weapons weren't much use against organic armour, or so it seemed. But before I could fire another shot, Lloyd unleashed his fury.

In the blink of an eye, the massive tiger let out a frightening roar as he burst forward, slamming the business-end of his club down on the spot where I'd shot the Radscorpion, breaking apart its armoured skull with ease and splattering its brains upon the stone. But that massive attack gave the third Radscorpion time to strike, and it did so with staggering speed.

Lloyd, however, noticed the Radscorpion, and though the nails of his weapon were embedded within the dead insect below him, he moved his head fast enough to avoid being impaled, though he couldn't avoid being struck - the tiger suffered a pretty nasty cut on his face, which only made him angrier.

But not being one to stand around, I instantly began firing at the Radscorpion, just as the giant tiger stumbled back, crying out as I did. Though everything was happening so fast, I remember feeling intensely scared for Lloyd as I heard the Radscorpion strike, and even more so as he released his weapon and fell backwards. I wanted desperately to go to his side like he'd done for me so many times, but there was an immediate threat which needed taking care of.

Having totally depleted the energy cell, and of course not having any of my ammo on hand, I was, at least, able to knock the Radscorpion off the rubble it'd attacked Lloyd from, which gave me plenty of time to drop my weapon and put my paws around the thick, heavy handle of Lloyd's makeshift weapon.

Though it was stuck in the dead Radscorpion good, I snarled and yelled as I pulled on it, finally managing to pull the heavy metal pole free and especially with my injuries, barely managed to lift it over my shoulder as I staggered back a little. The Radscorpion, though - whose chitinous armour was green and weak where I'd shot it - was swift and, not surprisingly, fucking pissed. It hissed at me loudly, which unnerved me, but the adrenaline kept me steady and suppressed the pain.

Suddenly, the Radscorpion attacked. It came at me very quickly, giving me no time to think. Instead I went on instinct, which had no doubt kept me alive all these years. Crying out, I swung the immensely heavy club around and above my head, then just as the angry insect came into sight, I slammed the spiky end right into its back, piercing its weakened shell and sticking it into the inside of its armoured chest. It hadn't occurred to me until a few minutes after, but its tail had come only inches from piercing my own skull, but I guess I was that much faster. Or that much luckier.

Regardless, when the adrenaline and my breathing eventually died down, I let go of the weapon and just stared spitefully at the insect, then glanced at Lloyd. Instantly my heart sank, seeing the massive beast of a tiger down on the ground and hardly moving. He was breathing, at least, but very heavily and in broken breaths. I rushed to him immediately.

"Lloyd!" I cried, now shaking from fear. "Hey! Wake up!"

Lloyd opened his eyes, his breathing quick and deep. He just groaned at me, very much in pain.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... What do I do?" I asked frantically, heart racing. It wasn't an enormous gash on his cheek, but apparently it was enough to get some venom through. "I don't have any fucking antivenom."

"Don't," he started, groaning shortly after. "Don't worry about me."

"How the fuck can you say that?" I yelled, hitting my fists upon his chest.

"I'll be fine," he said with a bit of a smile, but the pain in his voice and his face said otherwise.

"You can make some, can't you? How the fuck do you make it?" I began looking about anxiously, like the answer would suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

Lloyd groaned again, then raised a paw to my shoulder, though it just slid down to my upper arm. He gave me a gentle squeeze. "You don't have Night Stalker blood, do you?"

"What the fuck's a Night Stalker?"

Lloyd laughed. "The venom will flush out of my system - ugh! - soon enough. It'll take more than that to kill me."

"God damn you," I cried, putting my arms around the tiger. My heart was pumping rapidly against my chest, and I'd just realized tears were falling down my face. "I know we just fucking met," I said between heavy breaths (and a bit of weeping, though I tried my best to suppress it), "but I really like you, Lloyd. No stranger's ever shown me any sorta kindness, not like you have. And I can't kill all those fucking Automatons alone, y'hear?"

Lloyd just put a paw on my back and rubbed it gently, staring at me through pain-stricken eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he said between sharp and heavy breaths. He was clearly in pain, and though I'd known several people in my life who'd died from Radscorpion stings, if anybody was going to survive it, it'd be Lloyd. After all, he'd come too far in his mission only to be taken down by some stupid insect. Plus I hadn't gotten that damn kiss yet.

For now, I held onto the large tiger, who was still on his back in the dirt, trying not to cry too loudly since he probably already thought I was weak. But I didn't care, not at that point. I gave him another squeeze and just kept holding on, as if somehow that would clear out the poison.

"Just bring me some water, will you?" asked the tiger, giving my back a quiet pat.

I raised my head and nodded quickly, rushing over to my bag and pulling out my second last bottle of clean water, bringing it back immediately. After tearing off the cap, I held the bottle to Lloyd's dry lips and as his fingers brushed against mine, I slowly tipped the bottle and let him drink. He downed the whole thing in just a few seconds, then I tossed the bottle away.

Lloyd rested his head back and closed his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh, though his breathing was still poor. I stayed with him, of course, not sure if he was just resting or if he was getting worse. I felt like I'd know if he was getting worse, so I could only assume he was trying to relax as best he could, considering the circumstances. If he was right - and it did sound like he'd said it from experience - the venom would run its course and soon be flushed from his system. Until then, I suppose we just had to wait. I couldn't imagine how much pain, or even what sort of pain he was currently feeling, but it was doubtfully pleasant.

For now, I held onto the tiger like before, sitting beside him with only my pants on and arms around his soft, warm belly, my head resting against his chest. His paw just sat upon my back and though I'd stopped crying, I was still incredibly worried for him.

Fortunately, Lloyd was far more comfortable to sleep upon than rocks, and so before I knew it, my eyes were being opened to the sensation of a gentle paw rubbing against my back. At first they just flickered, but when I raised my head and met my eyes with Lloyd's, I saw there was much less pain in his.

"How...long..?"

The tiger laughed a little. "About five hours," he said. The sun was finally up now, hovering above a hill on the horizon. "The pain is mostly gone now, but I felt guilty waking you up too soon; you'd hardly slept last night."

I groaned quietly and lifted myself, propping myself up with one paw on Lloyd's belly. It was soft, and his breathing had certainly improved. "So you're not dying," I stated firmly, then took my paw back.

The tiger smiled, then sat up slowly, though it was clear it wasn't as easy for him as it would have ordinarily been. "I think we should head out," he said, glancing at me. We were both sitting on our bums now, and it was nice to see Lloyd's messy tail tip flicking back and forth.

"You sure?" I asked. "You're okay to walk?"

"I'm in a bit of pain still, particularly in my face, but it's not enough to keep me down, not at this point. We lost most our morning because of the Radscorpions, but hopefully we'll still make it to the next settlement after sundown. I'm more worried about you."

I frowned. "Why?"

"I suffered a scratch and a bit of Radscorpion poisoning. You're half covered in second-degree burns and have a hole in your chest. And unless your back pain's gone, there's still that, too."

"I'm fine," I grunted, getting off my ass - I had to hide the pain because of that. I walked toward my gear, and after feeling a relatively nice breeze blow through my matted, messy fur, at least the parts that weren't covered in bandages, I opted to leave my shirt off, at least for now. I strapped on my gun belts and tied my shirt to my bag, then threw it over my shoulder and wrapped my bandana around my head, again letting the top fly loose from the knot.

When I finished, Lloyd had finally gotten up and just started toward his gear. First thing he did was remove his bloody weapon from the Radscorpion's back, then hauled it toward his bag and threw it down. For now, he quickly put on his tight-fitting, army-green tank top, which was torn in several places, then threw on his bag and holstered his mighty metal club.

"No shirt, hm?" the tiger asked, glancing at me.

"Yeah, well when it's cloudy out, it can actually be quite pleasant in the Wasteland.

"Until it starts raining acid."

"How would you suggest I burn off the last half of my fur?"

Lloyd chuckled quietly.

After taking a quick glance around, making sure we had everything, the big tiger and I were off once more, back on the main road and heading south.

"So where are we headed, exactly?" I asked the tiger, walking next to him. I was glad he was feeling much better now, though occasionally I'd see him wince in pain, or make a small noise.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said, which wasn't the answer I was hoping for.

"Well the Dalmatian said we'd have to head southeast, right? Well we've been going mostly south this whole time... When do we start going east?"

Lloyd had to think about that for a moment. It wasn't that I was bad at directions, but I'd never travelled with any real destination in mind. It of course didn't help that I had no idea where we were now.

"Do you even know of any settlements around here? How do you know if we'll even find one?"

"We'll have to run into someone eventually."

I frowned. "Unless we die of starvation or dehydration first. Fuck, we could end up as Radscorpion bait."

"You've lived in the Wasteland long enough, James, you know what it's like out here and what it takes to survive. I don't know what lies south of here, not exactly. I know Ronto is somewhere south of here, and I know it's on the Great Dry Lake. Lots of cities were. But if you were to show me a map without any markers, I couldn't tell you where we are. We have to take this journey one day at a time and hope for the best, exactly as you've been living your life."

I sighed. "I guess so. I'd be nice to know where we were going."

"It'd be nice to have clean water, too, but very rarely do we get that."

I frowned. "Point taken."

Lloyd and I continued along our broken, almost non-existent road in near silence, keeping an eye out for enemies, furry or otherwise. But so far we came across only a few harmless Radroaches and Bloatflies, easily dispatched and without the use of ammo.

The only interesting things we came across were decimated homes and towns, most of which looked as if they hadn't been inhabited since the Great War, which meant there weren't people around. And if there were, they hid from us and never made themselves known, which was probably a smart move.

After about five hours of travelling, the sun was high in the sky, though still hidden behind a light layer of clouds, and the air was warming up. As always, I had no idea what time it was, for what it was worth, nor how much ground we'd actually covered. However, after yet another hour of straight walking, and about twenty minutes after leaving the last ruined town, Lloyd and I came over a short hill and stood before an enormous, broken highway.

"Oh, wow," I said, having never seen such a great road before, however destroyed it was. Big metal archways lay ruined upon the roads, and the bridge our current road went under had completely fallen. And yet the highway itself was largely intact, as far as roads go, and all along the way dozens upon dozens of rusty old cars lay ruined.

"What do you think?" I asked the tiger, footpaws sore and my injuries throbbing.

The tiger shrugged, a gesture I was growing tired of seeing. "We continue south, I guess. The only signs of possible settlement we've seen all day ended up as dead as the rest of the Wasteland."

I sighed. Though it really made no difference, I was sick of walking south. Besides the town north of here with the University, which I'd aptly named Bone Yard, we hadn't come across anything even remotely worth exploring. Almost every building we came across was either completely demolished, or so destroyed venturing into it would either kill us or end up being a total waste of time.

We had passed an old, ruined factory of some sort, but the massive barricade of bent and twisted I-beams told us super mutants lived there, and judging by the size of the place and their fortifications, there was a lot of them. We decided to move along, and though Lloyd was as big and as tough as any super mutant, he, too, hurried out of there. It occurred to me that perhaps they were creating super mutants there, if the stories I'd heard were true.

Apparently, according to some fur I met in the Wastes years ago, super mutants don't procreate, and therefore are essentially genderless, though they all appear male. They do possess some intelligence, but the most intriguing thing he told me was they aren't naturally mutated, like ghouls were. Apparently there existed some machine or chemical that makes regular furs turn into super mutants, though he had absolutely no evidence to back that story up with. I thought he was crazy, naturally, but after seeing a massive super mutant hideout like that, it made me wonder.

Anyway, the two of us still stood at the top of the small hill with a short cliff face to our right, and a dead forest to our left. The few actual signs around were no longer readable, which could've been helpful. We'd passed several billboards made by Vault-Tec telling us about their impressive vaults, but unfortunately gave us no direction. We also saw a billboard of a well-dressed family happily enjoying their cold bottles of Nuka-Cola, but that didn't help, either. All I knew was, we'd been travelling south for days and came across almost no signs of civilization, nor much life for that matter, so a big part of me wanted to head elsewhere. Like east, for instance.

"The Great Dry Lake is south of here," said Lloyd, and he sounded certain. "If we find it, we'll undoubtedly find Ronto."

"I thought we were looking for that vault!" I said more excitedly than I meant to. My sores were starting to bother me again.

"We are, but if we make it to Ronto first, then it's just as well. With Frost dead, the rest will slowly follow."

"The guy never said how southeast we were supposed to go, but he did say to ask the locals. There's gotta be a town around here somewhere."

Lloyd frowned at me, the type of frown that said I was being hysterical. "That isn't particularly logical. The Wasteland is vast, and for all we know, we could have walked past the town because it was behind a hill."

"You aren't filling me with the greatest confidence. I think we've both just concluded that we're lost and have no idea where we are, nor how far we have to go, or even how far we've come! This fucking sucks shit."

Now Lloyd sighed, rubbing the scratch on his face. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"No," I said indignantly. "Looks like there's a pretty big settlement on the horizon," I noted, squinting through the forest of black, dead trees. "Possibly. It's ruined, just like everything else in the Wasteland. Why don't we head there? There's always people in places like that."

Lloyd rubbed his chin. "Probably good thinking," he said. "With all the cliffs and hills around here, it seems like an ideal location to build a vault. Perhaps we were on the right track, after all."

And so it was decided. Lloyd and I headed south for just a short while before reaching the highway heading east, which apparently had no name, but we continuously saw the numbers "403" nearby. Figured either that was the highway number, or possibly more excitingly, a vault number.

"Vault 403," perhaps, nestled quietly in the escarpment like so many Radscorpions. It had kind of a nice ring to it, though I imagined that was hardly the basis upon which they named their vaults. It felt kinda good, though, to finally have an actual destination in mind, even more so because it was a real city. A ruined city, but still fucking huge and promising people. Well, nothing ever promised people, but it seemed damn likely. It would be easier to tell the closer we got, since it was still hidden behind the smelly, tepid haze of the Wasteland.

After a few hours of walking along the large road, having annoyed Lloyd enough with looking in all the cars for interesting loot, I glanced up at the city at the end of the road and suddenly realized just how enormous it really was, at least compared to the places I'd been to.

"Hey Lloyd," I said after hopping over the hood of a nuclear-powered car. The car, though the paint had long since worn off, was an immense rectangular beast with an enormous hood and smooth fins at the back, coming to a rounded point. Almost all of the cars looked like that, or some variation thereof, and some even had cool cone-shaped lights coming out of the back fins, the brake lights presumably. "You think that's Ronto?"

The tiger, who looked quite tired, too, glanced up and gave the city a quick look-over. "No," he said firmly. "It's too small."

"Ronto's bigger than this?" I exclaimed, head poking out of a rusty, ruined old car. The seats were faded and cracked and filthy, this one I think having been pink at one time. The material felt like leather, though it was hard and frail and useless, unlike the brahmin leather people used for making armour. The wheel was enormous but thin, and the dashboard felt as if it was made of the same material as the seats, yet somehow cheaper. Naturally I was more curious to see what was in the glove compartment, but as usual was disappointed. I glanced at the city again.

I hadn't seen many cities in my travels, and the ones that were called cities before the Great War were so devastated, living in them would have been impossible. Fuselage was one of the bigger modern cities I'd seen, and it wasn't that huge, either. Especially not compared to the one we were walking toward. Quite a few of the structures seemed to be largely intact, too, which was promising. Naturally, there was still a ton of destruction all around it.

I began walking beside Lloyd again, finally giving up looking through cars; after finding a single Cap in the passenger seat of first car, I was convinced I'd find more. I didn't.

The tiger just nodded. "Much bigger."

"How do you know? Have you seen it?"

"No, but Ronto has a few distinguishing landmarks, and this city doesn't."

"Oh. Well how the hell do you know that?"

"I've seen old pictures of it, plus I've heard people talking. It's a major military power, and very well maintained. Walled now, though it hadn't ever been before. Probably one of the safest cities in the entire Wasteland, though they won't let you live there for free. Most enlist, while others swear loyalty to Hyperion."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Lloyd clenched his fists a little, though I could tell he was trying to hold back. The tiger just shook his head, eyes deadly focused. "No. I'd be willing to bet ninety percent of Automatons only joined because they thought it meant easy living in the big city. Then two weeks later they're shipping out to set up a new chapter."

"So then why kill them all? I mean...they can't be all bad. Just the ones running the show, right? The rest're just freeloaders."

Lloyd suppressed a growl. "Anyone who pledges their undying allegiance to an imaginary machine and a murderer are a waste of precious air. I'll destroy every last one of those monstrous slavers."

That seemed a bit harsh to me, but as always, that's how life was out here. Plus the tiger clearly had some vendetta against them which he chose not to share with me, so he already had zero sympathy for anyone who bore the Automaton's colours or carried their banners. In retrospect, I was surprised he didn't mind me carrying around an energy weapon, though I suppose that wasn't what made you an Automaton. Of course all of this made me wonder just how much these guys actually believed in their so-called prophecies and their supposed messiah, Hyperion, but I guess to Lloyd, it hardly mattered.

"How many people you think live in this city?" I asked, trying to draw Lloyd's attention away from the Automatons. "If any."

The tiger shrugged. "I can't imagine," he answered quickly.

I just sighed. Clearly he was thinking about something - no doubt about how he was going to kill Frost - and obviously not sharing. I could tell because he was looking forward with determination, like he was near his goal and could taste Frost's blood already. It would be nice to know what I was fighting for, too, though, but I guess survival was the only thing for me. I was following the damn tiger around almost blindly by that point, willing to follow him into any shithole he led me to, and I liked to think I had a better reason than because I was enamoured by him, but in reality I didn't. And I wanted to know.

"Why do you hate the Automatons so much?" I blurted out. Nice and tactful.

Lloyd didn't flinch, like he knew I was about to ask. He also didn't say anything.

I frowned. "God damn it, I'm risking my worthless life to help you, I'd at least like to know why I'm helping you."

"You don't need to help me in this mission. I am perfectly capable of taking them apart on my own."

"But I want to help you." I felt a bit of blush redden my face. After a long pause, I continued. "I don't get why you won't talk to me. I mean, we're fucking friends now, aren't we? We can trust each other. Right?"

Some more damned silence from Lloyd.

"God damn you. I'd trust you with my life, and you can't even tell me what this stupid vendetta's all about. And I know it's revenge. I know I'm not the smartest otter in the Wasteland, but I'm fucking observant."

"I told you already, they killed my family. I told you after we met. What more do you need to know?"

"Well I dunno. I wasn't sure you were being totally serious when you said it. I mean...the whole gang couldn't have killed your family. Usually when you hear these revenge stories, it's against a single person. But you wanna take them all out. Figured there'd be more to it than that."

Despite waiting for an explanation - how foolish of me to expect - none came, and I sighed once more. Instead the two of us continued along the giant stretch of ruined road in the mid-to-late-afternoon heat in total silence, save the sharp, dusty wind coming toward us, from the east. We saw surprisingly few critters along the way, which had a tendency to hide in amongst the rubble of destroyed farmsteads - which we passed plenty of - or ruined homes or even demolished parts of the road, or bridges. Lloyd, naturally, feeling so close to his final target, didn't want to waste his time exploring these farms and homes, more especially because it was quickly becoming evening and he wanted to reach the nameless city before nightfall. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to find and attack the Automaton vault (assuming it was around here somewhere) before sundown. But with my aching footpaws, all I wanted to do was sit down. Plus for the past few hours my sores were flaring up.

Having to strongly resist scratching the burns, my right paw fingers instead tapped restlessly on my holster, and I sighed in annoyance. Every one of my instincts were telling me to just put the itches out of their misery, but I knew enough about burns and injuries to know scratching them would only make it worse. Instead of being itchy, they would break and blister then just start to sting and bleed, which always risked infection, too. But I had to admit, even though the bullet hole in my chest was throbbing horribly, I had to appreciate its consistency and its lack of sharp irritation. There was nothing I could do to ease the chest pain, whereas the burns begged to be touched and scratched. They would not get that satisfaction, and sadly, neither would I.

When we passed another car, I quickly glanced in to see if there had been anything obvious left behind, but there wasn't. I began to wonder if any of these cars actually worked, or if they could ever work. I didn't know any mechanics, but I was willing to bet each city had at least one who was needed to maintain their water pumps and purifiers, if they were fortunate enough to have one, or even other electronics like radios, functioning appliances, or robots. I'd seen dozens of refuelling stations all over the Wasteland, oftentimes in the middle of nowhere. Did they still have fuel? If so, these cars could still totally run, though I based that opinion on absolutely nothing. They probably needed new parts, too, particularly parts that'd been destroyed by the EMP's from the Great War. If we could get one working, though, travelling the Wasteland would be that much easier, and a hell of a lot faster. Of course, it was also like driving around with a nuclear bomb in your engine, but you'd really only be in danger if you were attacked, and if they shot the right parts.

When I finally looked up again, having just stared at the road for most of the time, I saw the city was that much closer, though still a ways off. To our left the landscape was for the most part flat, but in the not-so-far distance rose up what I imagined were impressive cliff faces and probably extraordinary views of our ruined Wasteland. To our right, though, continuing south, the landscape, while still quite flat, was made up mostly of low, rolling hills which gradually went downward, extending our view greatly, though there wasn't a whole hell of a lot to see. There was a few buildings in the distance, and even more ruined ones which I imagined belonged to the bulk of the city we were heading for. There was so much to explore, and yet having committed myself to following stupid Lloyd around, I had no time to go look at any of it. Perhaps when this was all over, he'd want to accompany me.

I sighed again, this time at the thought of being unable to explore what I wanted, when I wanted. I knew, though, this mission would have to come to an end soon enough, but the possibility always existed I would take a nice hot bullet to the brain before that happened, then I'd never get to explore.

When the sun began to set, the city seemed close enough to touch, especially since we'd already passed by dozens and dozens of destroyed homes and buildings - I think we were passing by a suburb now, single garages and picket fences abound - and I was beginning to wonder if we'd ever be greeted by anyone, or if anyone actually lived out here. About ten metres ahead of us, give or take, I counted yet another one of those metal structures arching over the road, though I'd lost count hours ago. Some had lights on them, while others had broken signs. Most of them had fallen over due to weather and rust.

Before I could give that much more thought, though, I heard a sudden gunshot which made me jump then freeze for a second, paw tightly gripping both Lucky and my 10mm. Glancing over at Lloyd, he had his paw on his metal club and was waiting for someone to appear. I couldn't stop shaking and my stomach felt gnarled.

"Don't worry," said the tiger quietly. "May not have been aimed at us."

Gunshots had never frightened me before, and oddly, it wasn't until I heard one when I realized I was now. I hadn't imagined since getting shot I'd have this sort of reaction to it, but I found myself petrified. My paws gripped my guns so hard that it hurt, wanting to blast away anything that moved, anything that could do us harm, or more specifically, anything with a gun. I heard no voices, and prayed I wouldn't, especially in the middle of the road. As we waited, my heart pounded fearfully against my chest, my back drenched with sweat; that irritated my burns even more.

"Hey!" I suddenly heard, and my eyes began darting wildly to find who owned the voice. "Don't move."

"They aren't moving," another voice said, but quieter than the first. "You see? They're standing perfectly still."

"Shut up, you're ruining it," the first voice replied, quiet like the second. "Uh," it said, loud again, "who goes there?"

Lloyd and I didn't answer. They sure as hell didn't sound like raiders, which put my mind a little at ease. They did sound crazy, though, which meant just about anything could set them off. Also meant we couldn't trust them, not in the slightest. Not that I had a tendency to trust anyone in the Wasteland, but I trusted the crazy ones even less.

"They're not answering," the first voice said. It was a male voice, low and raspy.

"Shit, you probably just startled a Deathclaw." The second voice was even more broken and hoarse than the first, but wasn't as deep.

"There aren't any Deathclaws around here, stupid."

"My name is Lloyd Thompson!" my companion suddenly cried out, which startled me. I didn't want these two arguing fools to know we were here, especially since they apparently couldn't see us that well. "Show yourselves."

"You show _your_self!" cried the first voice. "You a raider, or what?"

"Just a couple travellers looking for a place to rest. We have our own food and supplies, and won't be much bother."

Suddenly I noticed a quick movement from upon the metal archway, and I realized these mysterious furs had been watching us from within the rusty scaffolding. They moved adeptly across the structure and climbed down, guns still aiming at us. My paws clenched again at my weapons' grips, waiting for - but hoping to avoid - a gunfight.

"Paws off the weapons, smoothskins," said the one with the raspier voice. When they appeared within the last bit of the fading sunlight, I noticed their skin was all rotting and their fur was mostly fallen out, though they seemed shockingly mobile. Both were wearing brown rags of unknown origin, falling off their bones like most of their skin and fur.

"Holy fuck," I cried, backing away at least four steps. I'd never heard a ghoul speak before, but if these ones were smart enough to wield weapons, too, then the whole Wasteland was in a lot of trouble; the best defence against ghouls, in my experience, was their lack of weapons and cognition. But these two had both, and where there was two ghouls, there was often a dozen more right behind them. "Fucking ghouls, Lloyd, let's fucking go!" I was one second away from drawing my plasma pistol and bolting, meanwhile Lloyd didn't look scared at all; that was the only reason why I wasn't shooting. Ghouls were frightening enough as it was, but ghouls with guns..?

"Bigots, every one of you!" shouted the first ghoul, throwing his arms up. It sounded like this was a common occurrence. This one stood at least six inches shorter than his friend.

"Forgive my friend," the tiger said calmly. I didn't realize I needed forgiving, but since these two hadn't opened fire yet, I was willing to let it go. "Evidently, he has never seen Ghouls before."

"Fuck you I haven't."

"You smoothskins are all alike," said the second one, the one with the raspier voice. He was to the left of the other. He appeared to have been a dog of some kind, missing half of one pointy ear. If I had to guess, I'd say he was a Shepherd once. "Don't you know anything about the Wasteland?"

"Huh?"

"There are two types of ghouls," said the first one. He still had a lot of fur, mostly black, which blended quite well with his rotting flesh. I think he was a Doberman once. "You have your common feral ghouls, then your normal Ghouls."

"What's the fucking difference?"

Both Ghouls sighed with annoyance, now standing a good five feet away. They were standing quite casually now, though still held onto their weapons. "You ever talk to a feral ghoul before, kid? You ever see one carrying a fucking gun?"

I had, actually, when I thought about it. But it was trying to hit me with the grip end, and really had no idea what it was carrying around. It was an assault rifle, I think. "No," I answered sheepishly.

"We're just like you are, kid, 'cept we look a bit different."

"You look a lot different."

The Ghouls frowned at me, and I frowned back.

"The hell're you two doing way out here, anyway? Didn't think people wandered 'round these parts no more; most come from the north or the east. Making your way to Ronto?"

Lloyd nodded. I was surprised, even now, at how intelligent the Ghouls were. I hadn't ever seen one this close before, at least not one who wasn't trying to rip my throat out. They talked like how I imagined ghouls would talk, except a hundred times more comprehensible. They seemed quite civilized, too, which even for normal Wastelanders was a rarity. I was intrigued by them, if nothing else, though still naturally cautious.

"First and foremost," said Lloyd, "we're looking for shelter for the night. But by sunup we'll be in search of a Vault."

The second Ghoul scoffed, which sounded more like coughing up phlegm; I was surprised his nose didn't fall off. "Vault Robbers, huh? Well, only Vaults 'round here is Vault 95, and it's inhabited by those crazy Automatons." He then looked at me. "If you don't know who they are, smoothskin..." He didn't need to finish that statement.

"Half my skin's blistered and burnt," I huffed.

They just rolled their big, bulgy eyes at me. "There ain't much prospecting in the ruins here either, if you're thinking about exploring them instead. Place has been wiped out for years, picked clean by hundreds of looters before you. Just home to us Ghouls now, and even then our numbers are starting to dwindle. Food's pretty scarce, but you wouldn't want to eat what we have to offer anyway. Still, you're welcome to stay the night."

"We would be most appreciative." The Ghouls gave me a look when Lloyd said that, but they continued toward the city ruins anyway, telling us to follow. For now, I just kept my mouth shut, not wanting to offend our gracious hosts any more than I already had.

"So how many of you are left?" I eventually asked, having walked a couple metal archways in silence. The city was very close now, and with the sun completely hidden behind the cliffs and the destroyed suburbs, I would enjoy some rest; my footpaws, back, and burns were all killing me, and of course my bullet hole throbbed terribly. Unfortunately, not even sleep helped ease that pain.

The Ghoul on the left, the one with the raspier voice, answered, who had been doing most of the talking. He was in front of us now, leading the way, and just shrugged at my question. "Fifty, give or take. No one's actually done a survey. We mostly live in the sewers and steam tunnels, so if you wanna get lost trying to count us all, go right ahead."

I frowned. I was going to ask their names, but suddenly I didn't feel like it.

"So why don't you tell us your names?" suggested the second Ghoul, his shotgun very relaxed in his skeletal grip. It was as if he was reading my mind. "If we're sharing our home with you..."

"Uh," I started, but Lloyd continued for me. "His name is James Grayson."

"Grayson, huh? I knew a couple Grayson's. Nice folks. Nothing like you, smoothskin, though they were otters."

Otters?

"Well I'm Joel Youngblood. Friend here's Alex Hayes."

Alex grunted. He was carrying a sniper rifle around his back, and I was very curious to check it out myself. Never fired one before.

"Like I said," rasped Joel, "you're welcome to stay as long as you like, though I don't recommend it. Not because you aren't welcome, though, but because some areas are highly irradiated, and us Ghouls aren't affected by it. Ain't safe topside, either, since most Automaton raids happen at night. Haven't heard from them for a while, mind you, but that just tends to make things more tense around here."

"I thought you said the city's been stripped? What's left to raid?"

Alex scoffed, which again sounded very sickly. "They aren't 'raiding' anything, 'cept to kill Ghouls. Our numbers didn't drop 'cause everyone just decided to leave. Damn Automatons just get bored locked up in their damn Vault, so they send out parties to fucking hunt us down. I think they make a game of it. That's why we're all living in the sewers, not because we like it down there. I know our feral cousins do, but we enjoy living in comfort as much as anyone. It's just lucky for us radiation helps us heal, otherwise we'd have been wiped out long ago."

"Are all the sewers irradiated? I appreciate the invite, but I don't really want to start growing extra limbs here."

"Just the lower tunnels, mostly. Got some fairly good chambers we can set you up in, though I can't promise you it'll be the cleanest place you've ever slept."

I doubted that. "I spent the night in a super mutant torture camp, trapped in a cage made of shopping carts. Did you know their piss glows? Cuz I sure fucking do."

I frowned when I heard the Ghouls chuckling. Lloyd didn't laugh, though. Perhaps he'd dealt with super mutants before, though it was hard to imagine him getting captured by them. Maybe he was a super mutant all along, but looked more like a normal fur, like he hadn't fully changed; he just inherited their muscle mass. I'd never met a super mutant who wasn't deranged, though, and as far as even normal furs go, Lloyd was probably the sanest. Bearing in mind, of course, everyone has to be a little insane to survive the Wasteland, even big fat tigers. Big, fat, muscular tigers who were old and didn't like to share their pasts with anyone, not even with their companions and friends.

"Well you don't have to worry about glowing piss or growing new limbs, smoothskin. You may not think it to see it, but you'll be far safer down with us than on the surface with those psychotic bigots in Vault 95. We've got tons of useless RadAway, anyway, that we keep for when Traders come through town, which isn't often. That's where we got our weapons and ammo from, which is also why we're always the ones who have to go scouting." Joel, the raspier-voiced Ghoul, was still doing most of the talking. Apparently, though he was plenty talkative with his partner before meeting us, Alex was shy around newcomers. Couldn't blame him, since the quiet ones tended to live longer.

"What do you go scouting for?" I asked. I'd barely noticed that we'd more or less entered the city now, walking between enormous piles of rubble and glass, debris from the once-tall, fallen buildings surrounding us. I could almost see their faint outlines in the dark, almost-black blue sky, like someone had taken a photo where they once stood then suddenly pulled it away. I imagined it was a very busy city with structures and buildings that scraped the sky like steel and glass talons. But with the city now mostly in ruins, it was difficult, if not impossible, to tell what this neighbourhood actually looked like back then, and just how far the talons really stretched.

"Traders, mostly," Joel answered hoarsely. He then actually coughed something up, spat it out, and continued. "Even for possible food like mole rats, or normal rats if we should be so lucky. Mostly, though, we go out to see if the Automatons are causing any trouble. Been about a month seen we've last seen 'em, so I imagine they'll be itching for some excitement sometime soon. You can almost set your clock to it, if your clocks actually work."

I didn't even have a clock.

"Yoren thinks their Vault unlocks on a timer," Alex chimed in, turning to look at us. If he turned his head any further, it looked like the whole thing would just fall right off. "Don't know why they'd do that, though."

"Yoren?"

"He's our leader, of sorts," Joel rasped. "We once had a thriving community here, both above and below ground, which requires some sort of leadership. If not leadership, then at least someone who can make decisions. Yoren's older than any of us, an old man even before the Great War. He says he used to live here before the bombs dropped, claiming he was the mayor."

Alex laughed, though it sounded more like he was gagging on something.

"Whether it's true or not, Yoren can make decisions, and dumber folk like Alex make for easy followers."

"Hey, fuck you," grunted the shorter Ghoul.

Joel just laughed at his own jest.

"Anyway, Yoren told us some of these Vault-Tec vaults were built with timers, though most lasted several to a hundred years. Odd this one would only last a month, but according to Yoren, those Vault-Tec guys were up to no good. Says them survivors would've been better off turning into vapour when the bombs hit."

I just shrugged. I wasn't born in a vault, so I had no real opinion on the matter. Lloyd didn't say much either, or much at all for the last little while, which seemed strange. Something was no doubt on his mind, but I'd be damned if he'd actually tell me. Didn't particularly feel like asking him this time, either, mostly because I was tired. Tired mentally, too, ready to fall asleep. I had no idea where we were now, though we were definitely someplace within the city.

The Ghouls just led us through a maze of broken streets and ruined buildings, which still towered over us, but had clearly lost their grandeur. We were constantly stepping over streetlamps and mailboxes and fire hydrants, as well as endless large-to-larger piles of rubble and half-fallen structures. Walking through the dry, straw-like grass and hot, arid dirt of the Wasteland hurt my footpaws well enough, but this city walking was far more brutal. The ruins we crossed were jagged and sharp, and I was sick of constantly getting small stones between my pads. Worse, though, was the thousands upon thousands of shards of glass littering the streets, which cut small and large gashes into my poor rough paw pads. Not only that, but climbing the piles of concrete and metal wore out not only my forepaws, but my tired muscles as well, which in turn made me sweat, which irritated my sores which of course drove me crazy. All-in-all, I just wanted to fucking lie down already. Anywhere would suffice.

"Well," Joel said at last, turning around. Unlike myself, who was still struggling over one of the larger rubble piles, the Ghoul was on the street again, standing over a manhole. The cover was still on, and I saw nothing to lift it with. "Here we are."

Everyone else had reached the ground before me, and I nearly tripped over a rebar. Thankfully, I managed to find my footing before the pavement found my face.

"You okay?" Lloyd asked solemnly. Something was definitely on his mind.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered with a frown. I was panting a bit, too, and sweaty and sore. When I at last looked up at Lloyd, my face softened and I had a sudden urge to give the plump tiger a big hug and hunker down with him alone, hopefully not anywhere too smelly. But of course, I knew the probability of that happening. I just sighed quietly and gave him a friendly nod.

Lloyd nodded back and gave me a gentle rub on my back, which strangely made me feel better.

"This is home," Joel announced as Alex used the business end of his sniper rifle - much to my surprise and horror - to pry off the manhole cover, dragging it aside with little ease. I wanted to yell at him for mistreating such a fine weapon, at least compared to my own, but when I saw how chipped and bruised the rifle's muzzle was, I figured he'd been doing it for a while. Instead I just followed the short Ghoul down the hole, dreading the thought of having to eventually climb up this ladder. Lloyd followed after me, and Joel after him, replacing the cover. No light shone through the cover's holes, but fortunately there was a lamp down below.

"What's with the smoothskins?" asked a third Ghoul, who I discovered was holding the lamp. She was even shorter than Alex and had a softer voice, though still quite rough. One of her ears looked as if it'd been rotted off, as well a part of her left upper lip. She, unlike Joel and Alex, was mostly covered with fur still, but did have some significant patches of fetid skin, and though I couldn't see that well beneath her ragged clothes - brownish and filthy, though less torn than the other two - I could have sworn some of her ribcage was exposed. In the lamplight her top appeared to be reddish in colour, a vest of some kind and just enough to cover her important parts, while her plain brown skirt was torn nearly to her knees. I couldn't tell what manner of fur she was, though her exposed teeth looked canid. She was missing her tail, too.

"Couple wanderers," said Alex. "Thought they were raiders, but they're just a couple a' treasure hunters."

The female laughed hoarsely. "No treasure to be found in these parts."

"Is that so," I said dryly. I wondered how many more times we were going to hear that before leaving.

Finally Joel entered, and momentarily embraced the female. "Cat," he called her, giving the tailless Ghoul a sweet kiss on her half rotten cheek. I watched them enviously with a big tiger towering behind me.

"These are our new friends," he explained with a grin. It wasn't an untrustworthy grin, but I felt like it wasn't entirely honest. Perhaps he meant friends sarcastically. I could only hope they didn't mean to eat us, which I admit was a thought constantly ringing through my mind.

"That right?" Cat asked with a smile. "Not too often we get smoothskins 'round here who don't want to kill us."

"All we want is a place to rest. We'll be out of your, uh...hair...before dawn."

All three Ghouls frowned at me.

"Well, come along then," Cat offered with a wave of her bony arm. She now led us through the dark, stinky sewers, and I really wished I had a Geiger counter. No doubt it would be clicking and screaming at me, begging me to leave. Hopefully I'd find their stash of RadAway before leaving, and just pump myself full of it. I wondered what would happen if you used it without radiation poisoning..?

After a short while, which felt longer than it truly was, after being led through countless tunnels and passageways and access chambers, we began down a set of metal rickety stairs into a room with some enormous machine in the middle, which stretched from floor to ceiling. I didn't know what it was, nor if it was working, but it had big pipes and chambers and tubes and valves and gauges all over the place, and I think I heard some steam - or gas - pouring out from somewhere. Having been at the completely wrong end of a gas leak before, I knew the muzzle flash from my 10mm - or no doubt the plasma from my energy pistol - would set off a fiery explosion. With that in mind, I clicked on the safety to both; Lucky didn't have a safety switch.

When at last we reached the bottom, we filed into a narrow passageway and continued on until we reached larger tunnels, then followed the putrid water flow upstream for what felt like several kilometres. Naturally I walked up along the side, meanwhile the Ghouls just slogged right on through the shallow stream, perfectly content to get whatever was in that water on them. I was thoroughly grossed out, but glad to see Lloyd trying to avoid water where he could.

We then reached what Cat referred to as the Nexus, the supposed centre of the entire sewer system, which was hard to believe until I finally saw it. Unfortunately our tunnel exited at the bottom of this Nexus, which meant more climbing if we were to become unexposed to radiation - Joel promised us RadAway, and I was holding him to that.

The Nexus was an amazingly large chamber with enormous tubes running from one end to the other, and every one seeming to drip some mysterious liquid. But where there wasn't metal tubes there were openings to dozens of small and large sewer tunnels, some of them dripping with dry, irradiated gunk while others still had a consistent flow of water. When I looked up, makeshift ladders rose all over the place, leading to platforms attached to the tubes as well as other tunnels, plus to numerous catwalks stretching along the walls and crossing the Nexus. The metal catwalks, which looked old and rusty - they were doubtlessly built here before the War - all seemed to connect access panels and heavy metal doors, most of which remained open. Lights dotted the Nexus all along the catwalk and the homemade platforms, as well as one hanging outside each tunnel and door. Down below, where I was soon to step into, the floor was lower by at least a foot from the edge of our current tunnel, though great portions of it had long since been filled with dirt and debris, as well as the nasty water I'd been trying to avoid all this time. The water, though, flowed from out of the Nexus and through our tunnel, and there appeared no way to avoid stepping in it. I sighed as I stared at the black water.

"Used to be the busiest place down here," said Joel sullenly. "Full of life. But now it's home to 'round fifty of us, and most don't even bother coming here anymore. Sad state of affairs, it is."

Lloyd glanced upward with tight lips and serious eyes. When I followed his glance, I noticed one particular tunnel up a hundred feet with a faint green glow emanating from it. Curious...

"If you get us to Vault 95," promised Lloyd, "the Automatons will never bother you again. Your city will thrive and you will have to fear no one."

The Ghouls stared at Lloyd for a long moment. "I don't know what you're planning," Joel quivered, "and I don't think I want to know."

Lloyd Thompson grunted.

After another silence, Cat finally cut in. "If you want, I can show them where they can stay?"

Joel nodded, his bones creaking as he did. "I'll let Yoren know they're staying with us; he'll be able to tell you more about Vault 95. Where it is, and such. All I know's, it's up in the Escarpment; those cliffs northeast of here."

I nodded, and soon we departed, myself finally taking those first nasty steps into the grime and the water blow, wading through it up to my knees. Alex followed Joel, while Cat led us toward a damnable ladder. I didn't know what the floor of the Nexus was made of, but at least six inches of it was sand-like material, though I feared it was also something much worse. My footpaws sunk heavily into the muck with every slow footstep, the sand seeping between my toes and catching within the webbing, doing nothing to ease the thick, squishing sensation. Every step send horrid chills up my spine, but what made it worse was the blackish water lapping around my knees, its stink no doubt seeping permanently into my fur. It wasn't the worst thing I'd ever smelled, either, but the sour, putrid stench sure as hell ranked among some of the worst. I couldn't imagine what this water was doing to my burns, either.

When at last we reached my greatest enemy, the ladder, I watched Cat climb it easily and Lloyd after her, and with two paws on one of the metal bars, I sighed heavily and watched them climb. But I had to get out of this muck, and out of the radiation, which may or may not have been there - if the smell was any indication of radiation, then this place would kill me in a few minutes. At last I put my left footpaw on the first railing out of the water, then began my painful ascent.

Within moments of pulling my body out of the water, my back and neck began to ache, as well as my poor, tired muscles and raw paw pads. My sores were already stinging, but as I suspected, the ones around my left leg burned the most. I growled as I concentrated on it, seeming to make the burning worse, wanting badly to tear off the bandages and scratch the living shit out of it. But no, I couldn't. All I could do was climb, and as painful and terrible as it was, I slowly lifted my paws one by one, up the rusty metal ladder and toward the catwalk.

When I made it up, Lloyd and Cat having waited very patiently for me, I fell to my paws and knees without much breath. I swore between every heavy breath I took, swearing either because of the immense pain in my whole body, a sharp burning all throughout, or because of how incredibly tough that climb was. But I made it, and I was thankful for Lloyd helping me up. I put an arm around him and he helped me across a catwalk toward a platform more in the centre of the Nexus, turning and leading me up some stairs. After climbing a few more levels, the glowing tunnel at least five more catwalks up, Lloyd and I were led through a short hallway with a door at the end, which opened loudly to us. Inside were a few mattresses and some shelves, lined mostly with junk. Naturally I would have to sift through it.

"You guys can rest here, if you like. We don't really have anything better for you two, least nothing radiation-free. Hell, I'm not even sure if this is radiation free, but it's probably the cleanest we've got. It used to be for storage, then a holding cell. Now I guess it's your bedchamber."

"Thank you." Lloyd bobbed his head at Cat and she gestured the same in return. "You missed dinner, but I'll see if we can get you something to eat. Can't guarantee you'll want it, though."

"We have our own food," I suggested as I plopped myself down on a stained mattress. "I mean... I appreciate the offer, but you don't have to go out of your way."

Cat looked at me with a face of both annoyance and confusion.

"We will accept any kindness you have to offer us," insisted the tiger. "Anything will be greatly appreciated."

"Right," she frowned, then finally left.

Lloyd sighed quietly, then sat down. Lucky for him, he was wearing a pair of brown shorts, so very little water had seeped in. My pants, on the other hand, the left leg had been torn off around the knee, but the right was still fully intact. And soaked.

"Do you think they have any bandages?" I asked the tiger, paws shaking as I resisted scratching my sores. "I got that fucking water on my left leg."

Lloyd glanced at me, finally sitting down. He didn't show much expression in his eyes, but I think he was concerned. He reached into his bag, at any rate, and pulled out some fresh, clean bandages. I wasn't sure if he had anything to clean the wounds with, though. I had a couple bottles of clean water, which I wanted to drink more than anything, but I suppose there wasn't much choice. I pulled them out of my bag and threw one to Lloyd, keeping one for myself. I hoped he had one, too; I'd feel bad if he'd used all his water just to clean my stupid wounds.

"They probably all need changing," the tiger stated, checking out my other bandages. "We travelled long and hard today."

"No fucking kidding," I muttered, then removed my shirt. Although I couldn't speak for my back, when I glanced down at my chest, a gross brown patch stained the bandages, having seeped down from my neck and spread out and down toward my shoulders and nipples. The bandages were also all brown and sweat-stained around my elbow pits, and around my right wrist. My right knee, too, was filthy, more especially because of the water, while my inner thigh bandages were no doubt just as stained as the rest; I was yet to remove my pants and see. Finally I sighed and dropped my pants, figuring I might as well get this done and over with.

Thankfully, Lloyd started with my right leg bandages, peeling them off and revealing a horrid smell from beneath. I think even he made a noise, though I could have just imagined that. Either way, with them fully removed, I was very relieved to feel the fresh water splash against my burning skin, and somehow even Lloyd's powerful paws helped soothe the pain. He was quick to wrap the new bandages, and moved onto my right leg, which were further up my thigh. As predicted, they were stained with sweat, too.

He removed them efficiently, cleaned, and rewrapped them, the stinging of my burns distracting me from his paw gently touching against my balls. What would really grab my attention, of course, was his paws all over my tail, which he was apparently going to save for last; after finishing my legs, he moved right onto my torso, unwrapping the smelly old ones and replacing them quickly. I was impressed at how well and how easily he could do this, as if he'd done it many times before meeting me. Soon enough he rewrapped my right arm, which was almost entirely covered in nasty, blistering burns, then the smaller burns on my left arm. I blushed immediately after he finished, knowing my poor tail was next.

He removed the bandages quickly and with the last bit of water he had, doused the affected areas, the bulk of which was up closer toward my tail base. I had also suffered some down further, but they weren't as bad. The water was very soothing, and though it was just at room temperature, it felt very cool against the burns. I sighed quietly in relief, eyes closed with a gentle smile upon my face, then I felt his paws. They were hard, yet delicate against my raw flesh and my singed fur as the bandages ran over my wounds. My paws shook a bit as the tiger paws went around and around, feeling my tail up and down. With a tender moan and quiet shudder, my paws rested on the shelf in front of me, my sheath plenty full of otter pride and poking a good inch or two out. When at last he finished, I shuddered again and blushed heavily, both paws now on the shelf.

"Thanks," I said, just as someone entered our small chamber.

"Uh," I heard rasp behind me. I simply turned my head to look, a blissful smile on my face. It was Cat, returned with some strange food on a metal plate. "I brought up some food, though I won't be offended if you don't take it. Truly, I won't. Stuff looks disgusting even to me."

"Thank you," Lloyd said calmly, and I was quickly beginning to realize what position I was currently in. Immediately feeling some shame, I removed my paws from the rusty metal and bent down to cover my erect pride, still not turning around.

"I don't care what you two are into," Cat said, "but even us Ghouls have some sense of modesty. Close your door if you're going to continue."

I blushed even harder at the suggestion. I wished that was what we were doing, or going to be doing - Lloyd was still fully clothed - but sadly it wasn't.

"We will be more careful in the future," the tiger nodded, as if we'd actually been doing something. He had to know what this looked like, didn't he?

"Well, good," Cat replied awkwardly. "If you want to talk to Yoren, he's still awake, but you'll have to see him soon. He tends to sleep for most of the day and he's been up for hours. Don't know if you noticed that glowing tunnel up there, but that's where you'll find him."

"Understood. Thank you." Lloyd nodded again, and Cat left, the tension going with her.

I gave an audible sigh of relief after the Ghoul left. The tiger turned to me with a partial frown, as if sarcastically thanking me for embarrassing him.

"I'm sorry," I said with red in my cheeks. I didn't know if there was much point in admitting it, but I did anyway: "My, um... My tail is really sensitive."

Lloyd glanced down to my crotch, then back to my face again. "So I see."

I just shrugged. "I should've warned you, I guess."

"Might have been a good idea. Now let's eat already, if you aren't too busy pleasuring yourself."

I frowned and tsk_ed the tiger. "I was hardly pleasuring myself. If anything, _you were pleasuring me."

Lloyd shook his head and turned around, now looking at our food. Though I did want to put my pants back on, I thought it might be better to let them dry first. Having said that, I didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable being naked in front of Lloyd as I had before, as if we'd both grown accustomed to it. I crawled up painfully beside the fat tiger and stared at the food, seeing clearly why he hadn't yet dug in.

Before us on a metal plate was a pile of green, wet...something. Meat, it looked like, and I couldn't tell whether or not it had been cooked. It looked more like a pile of damp, soiled rags, but reeked of something savoury, which was probably its only saving grace. I sat with Lloyd cross-legged, not yet daring to touch it. I had no idea how irradiated this food was, but I imagined quite a bit. The thought had also occurred to me that this was some kind of nasty prank these fur-hating Ghouls were trying to pull on us, though they seemed genuine.

"You first," I said. For as kind and gracious as Lloyd was acting, he sure wasn't quick to try their meal, if you could even call it that. Beneath the savoury smell of the food was something rank, something I couldn't quite put my finger on, and something I wasn't even truly sure existed; could have easily been my imagination, or perhaps the pile of filthy bandages in a bucket next to the shelf. Either way, any appetite I had had left with Cat.

"Well we can't just leave it here," Lloyd said, glancing at me. Looked like the big, noble cat would sooner eat his own words than this meal.

"It looks like plant matter of some kind," I jested, though the more I stared at the green, sloppy gunk, the more it started to look true. "Like something you'd scrape off the wall of a cave, or skim out of an old, fetid pond."

"Cave fungus," Lloyd suggested, and he could very well have been right. "I imagine, for as terrible as it looks, it's very nutritious. More so than your Cram."

I didn't mind Cram so much, especially now. I think I still had a can, too.

"Does that mean you're gonna eat some?"

Lloyd hesitated, but he did reach a paw forward. "Could be worse," he said as his fingers gripped the wet, sloppy rags. He pulled them forward and just stared at the fungus, looking like he was about to throw up. And all I could do was watch with excitement. After all his talk, I think he had to eat it now.

Finally, the tiger opened his maw and slid the nasty green slime onto his tongue, letting it slide in with shocking ease. At last he closed his mouth and seemed to hold it in for a long while, eyes slivered and cheeks a bit puffed. His throat looked like it was closed up, like he couldn't swallow even if he wanted to, and yet miraculously, he'd managed a few chews and finally got it down. His face looked about as green as our food, but to his credit, he'd kept it down.

"Ughh," moaned the tiger, holding his stomach. "It's...not the worst thing I've ever eaten."

I didn't even want to think about that. But of course, I had to go next. Not because I felt compelled to be a gracious guest like my tiger friend, but because for as tough as he was, this was something that nearly beat him.

Perhaps it was just my pride that guided my paw, but before my brain could tell my arm to stop, I'd already grabbed a nice long, thick clump of green and moved it toward my maw. Without smelling it, I opened up and let the dripping end dangle lifelessly above my tongue. At last, I lowered the food into my mouth, finding I had to open wider to get it all in at once, which meant less chance of accidentally tasting it. With the food completely within my maw now, I scrunched up my face and tried to chew it, dreading the thought of choking on it. But after a few chews I prepared to swallow, finding that an impossible task. I quivered a bit, eyes closed tight, then finally spat the fungus out, spitting and coughing like a fly had thrown into my throat.

"Ugh, fuck," I cried, the tangy taste of rotten greens strong on my tongue. "God, this is awful. Can't Ghouls taste?"

Lloyd just laughed at me, partly because I'd embarrassed him, partly because he was sadistic. I was quick to down my bottle of clean water, getting through three-quarters of it before I had to give up.

"It isn't that bad," claimed the tiger, picking up some more. "It's very good for you."

"As if..." Rather than brave the green muck again, I decided rather to dig into my bag and pull out some of my own food, sticking with Cram this time, since it was on my mind now. I ate it quickly and with some pleasure, then finished the last of my water. I wiped my mouth with the back of my paw and rested back, feeling much better. Still tired, but I didn't feel like I was about to collapse. As predicted, Lloyd hadn't finished the whole plate of Ghoul food, but had only managed a couple more pieces after his first one. He, too, drank some water, which thankfully he had some left.

"Feeling better?" he asked me. Several times I noticed his eyes glance at my body, though it was very brief. Mostly I noticed his eyes just flicking back to my face when I looked at him, but I could somehow feel his gaze upon me. That thought made me blush, though it irritated me, too; I was tired of his constant barrage of mixed messages.

"Yeah," I answered a little shyly. I enjoyed the thought of his old, weary eyes upon me, but I couldn't put too much stock in it, lest I be disappointed yet again.

"You can rest here, if you like, and I can speak to Yoren. You looked in pretty bad shape after climbing that ladder."

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"At least put on your pants before we go."

I blushed again, realizing I still hadn't clothed myself. I think I blushed more at the fact Lloyd had taken note of my naked body. But he was right, for as much as I wanted to walk around the sewer with nothing on, the Ghouls wouldn't have appreciated it. Made me wonder, with all their rotting body parts, if any of them even had genitalia. I imagined the females did, since there wasn't a whole lot to fall off, but for those poor males... I shuddered to think about it.

Nevertheless, I quickly put on my half-damp pants, deciding to leave my guns behind, as Lloyd had left his metal nail-club. I followed the big tiger out the door and when we reached the catwalk, glanced upward. It was then I noticed this old, ancient sewer had an amazing vaulted ceiling, with various small pipes poking from the stone and concrete. The glowing tunnel was nearly at the ceiling, perhaps ten feet or so from it, which required a bit more climbing, then a walk across a platform of questionable sturdiness; it looked like it was made up from old wooden skids.

Lloyd and I made our way along the old catwalk easily enough, seeing or hearing no one above or below us, and climbed a makeshift ladder this time. This one was significantly shorter than the last. Carefully he and I made our way across the skids toward the glowing tunnel.

The tunnel was about two metres in diameter with a flat bottom, and had long since run dry. The glow, amazingly, came from somewhere deeper within, since all I could see from the skid platforms was the floor of the tunnel sloping upward. I imagined there was a ton of radiation pouring from the tunnel, which made my poor stomach churn, but I had to keep in mind we were getting some RadAway out of this. Free RadAway.

With the tiger leading the way, we entered the green tunnel and ascended, but as soon we came up to view the glow, I was surprised at what I saw: a destroyed tunnel behind at least fifteen rusty barrels and a naked Ghoul sitting amongst them. The stuff leaking from the barrels was as bright green as his skin, which he simply sat cross-legged in, sitting as if he was meditating. All around him grew dozens upon dozens of long-stemmed, glowing green fungi, some of which were even growing out of him. I just stood with my maw half agape at this strange fur, who no longer had any but instead had glowing green skin. Beneath his skin darkened veins showed easily, thick and thin, coursing all throughout his body, and his black bones were partially visible in certain parts. Though I wasn't entirely certain, it seemed as if there was a darker green shadow behind his black rib bones thumping slowly with dark veins spreading outward, and behind the visible parts of his black skull I could see those veins clustering around what I could only assume was his brain, which was nearly as dark as his bones. As far as his species, from what I could see of his skull he appeared felid, since the more distinguishable parts were obscured by his glow. Not much remained of his ears either, though his nose appeared similar to Lloyd's, but totally black.

I'd heard of ghouls like this, who rather than tear their enemies apart like their weaker brothers, instead killed them in less than a minute with radiation poisoning. Glowing Ones they've been called, and though I'd never seen one, I'd heard stories aplenty. Apparently at will, like a skunk spraying an enemy, Glowing Ones can exude extreme amounts of radiation at once, killing a healthy fur in just under a minute. My paw immediately slapped against my hip, searching for my guns which I'd foolishly left behind. I knew these Ghouls were up to something, and now it was clear what their intentions were.

"Welcome," said the glowing green Ghoul, opening his semi-transparent eyelids to reveal shockingly normal eyes. They were green, of course, but a normal green. He spoke in an extremely hoarse voice, like he'd damaged his vocal cords.

My paws were shaking, yet I couldn't move.

"You are no doubt surprised to see me...with such an appearance. Alas, I didn't start off like this, oh no. I started off just like you."

Lloyd didn't say anything, so I decided to speak first. "How...are you talking? I mean..."

The Glowing One just chuckled. "I am not your average Ghoul, young otter. I am like the others living here, yes, except I have evolved beyond my old rotting shell, similar to my feral cousins. Yet I am not so...feral, as you can see."

"Are you Yoren, then?"

The Ghoul smiled at me, though I wasn't sure how I could tell, which inadvertently exposed his wild black teeth. He was a feline for sure, though he was skinnier than any cat I'd ever seen.

"How on earth did you get like that? I mean...like that? Before today, I didn't even know Ghouls could talk, much less turn into Glowing Ones."

The old Ghoul chuckled quietly, as if he'd told this story a thousand times. And for all I knew, he had. "As I'm certain you know, radiation heals even us Ghouls, but long ago as my body started to decay and fall apart after so many years of rotting, normal amounts of radiation had become insufficient - I was well on my way to becoming feral, a fate worse than death. And so I spent the last hundred years or so seeking out significant deposits of radiation, in hopes it would be enough to heal my broken, rotting body. It was around seventy-five years ago, far, far west of this place where I discovered an enormous, and seemingly endless supply of the warm, nuclear glow I'd sought for so long. Hidden, it was, in the Great Planes, inside an underground facility developed to house the country's massive deposit of old nuclear waste, put there long before the Great War. It was there I was turned into this glowing monstrosity you see before you. I lived in that place until just last year, feeding and absorbing the radiation until I felt I could no longer gain from whatever remained of the deposits. And so I came here, to my home growing up, a city now fallen to ruin, seeking refuge from the monsters of the Wastes."

"And you lead these people now?"

Yoren laughed, though it sounded like he was dying. "They lead themselves, truly. They come to me for guidance sometimes, though I'm not sure how helpful I really am. I have no real duties around here, and so I simply stay amongst the barrels dumped here by lesser men. As you can see, they tried to bury the evidence, but luckily for me they were not completely successful."

"Is it healing you now?" I asked.

The glowing Ghoul shook his head. "No, not any longer. Doubtless I give off more radiation than the barrels do, but only if I wanted to. So tell me," he looked up to Lloyd now, as if he knew to ask him instead of me, "why do you seek out Vault 95? It is not a place for Wastelanders and Ghouls alike. You don't have the look of looters on you."

The tiger nodded. "Indeed, but I have business there all the same. I am on a mission of vengeance, against the Automatons."

Yoren stared at Lloyd for a long time, studying him. I couldn't tell if he was discovering anything, but I'll bet he was just as frustrated by his tight lips as I was.

"A fool's mission, without a doubt. Are you a fool, tiger?"

"I must be."

Yoren gave one quick laugh, which sounded painful. "Admission of one's faults is what separates us from the animals. Or the monsters. Or the bigots."

I took that as old Yoren's blessing, not that we needed it. We really just needed to know where Vault 95 was.

"So I suppose you'll want to know where they're holed up," rasped the old Glowing One, as if this sage amongst Ghouls could somehow read my mind.

"Joel told us it's in the Escarpment," I blurted out.

Yoren smiled at me. "And Joel would be correct. Believe it or not, young ones, I was responsible for the installation of that vault, years before the bombs fell. I was working for Vault-Tec at the time, a senior developer within the company. Originally they weren't going to build any near the city I'd grown up in, but I managed to convince them otherwise. Silver tongue, they said I had. Could convince anybody to do anything, though I never liked that title. Seemed so...devious. Untrustworthy. Like I would use it for evil. No one trusted anyone in those days, and I must say not much has really changed."

The Glowing One was starting to become agitated. He was raising his voice and shaking, and I could have sworn it became warmer in that tunnel.

Yoren growled to himself. "Forgive me, my fall from grace was far from pretty. You're looking at me curiously, so I'll tell you. Soon after approval to build the vault, I decided I could give back even more to my community and my loving city by running for mayor, which I did with resounding success. Without a doubt, it was my bid to have a vault built which won me my election, and kept me there for all its construction. Five years later I was still mayor, and with the help from the inside - I was no longer with the company, having retired when I began my election - I discovered the true purpose of those damnable Vault-Tec vaults: to perform scientific and social experiments upon the unwitting dwellers, caring nothing for their survival nor their wellbeing. I was appalled, and tried to expose them for what they were and what they were doing, but of course they were a big company with an unlimited amount of money and endless support and heartless lawyers. Needless to say, young ones, I lost the case and the city called me a traitor, the least hurtful of their slurs. A year after my shameful, forced retirement as mayor, the bombs fell and my poor city perished. Save the vault dwellers, of course, who had foolishly left the vault only a month after being locked in, dying shortly thereafter of severe radiation poisoning. Myself and a handful of others were turned into Ghouls, and the rest, I suppose, is history."

"That's a really sad story," I chimed in, not sure what else to say.

"Like most stories in the Wasteland," commented the Ghoul. "But I suppose I did digress a little, didn't I. Vault 95, my vault, was built within the Escarpment, yes, deep within the rock and hidden within a cave. There are trails up there, or there was at one time, leading straight past the cave, but the entrance is well hidden. It is in the last cave along the trail, and is the largest; you'll know it for the large limestone pillar holding up the ceiling. At the furthest end of this cave, you will see a rock that looks...out of place. I cannot accurately describe the rock, more especially now, after so many years. But with any luck, you will know it when you see it. To its right you will find a small groove carved out of the stone, which should also appear unnatural. Simply pull it down like a lever, and the trick door beside it will be released. The vault door lies within the secret cavern, and will only open a month after it is shut. Since those foolish Automatons only seem to appear once a month, I believe they close it after every raid."

"Why have you never gone up there yourself? Take a bunch of Ghouls with you and wipe them out."

Yoren shook his head and sighed quietly. "These other Ghouls, they are not fighters or gunslingers like you. They are not world weary and they are not hardened. They are people who have lost a place in this world in some way or another, and simply seek a safe place to live. This city, the ruined city now, used to be a haven for Ghouls, but since the Automaton moved into the vault many years ago, they've driven far too many of us out, and kept others away. And I am just one Ghoul, young otter."

"I've heard Glowing Ones can take out five guys easily," I argued boldly.

"I suppose that is true, and while I would love to see those damnable fools get theirs, I am no fighter, either. I had always used my wit and my tongue to fight my battles, and I'd be useless with a weapon. I'd be no more use to you than if I was still that old decaying monster I'd once been."

I nodded, realizing there wouldn't be any changing his mind. Still, I blamed Lloyd for my wanting to see Yoren get his revenge, too, since apparently that was all people wanted against these guys. "I'll kill a couple for you."

Yoren smiled. "Though I do not condone such violence, I would not shed a tear if you killed some in my name. But I fear, now, I grow weary. I have not had so much to say in a very long while, young ones, and so I must now rest. I wish you two brave fools the best of luck... Oh, and there will be RadAway waiting for you in your chambers."

"Thank you, Yoren," Lloyd said quietly as he stood. I stood with him, and gave the Ghoul a grateful smile and a nod. Together, the tiger and I left, making our way quickly back to our storage room-turned-cell-turned-bedchamber. And sure enough, four RadAways sat upon our soiled mattresses, waiting for us dutifully.

Within moments I had both bags strapped and plugged to either arm - despite Lloyd's objection - and elevated to start the flow. Feeling the weight of an extremely long, painful day, I at last got to close my eyes and get some sleep, falling unconscious almost immediately.

I had those dreams again, in what I imagined was the village I grew up in burning to the ground. As usual, my parents died and my Golden Behemoth came to my rescue. Although I was just a child in the dream, I saw myself in my grownup body, carried by the strong, glowing giant. He was warm and safe, yet I couldn't see his face. As usual it was obscured by his natural brightness. Where the dream usually ended, though, this time it just continued along.

Eventually the Behemoth vanished and I floated in a mysterious, silent darkness. I felt as if I was falling into an endless pit, yet I didn't feel scared. At least not yet. I tried to shout out for someone - anyone, really - but got no reply. I twisted by body to see if I could see anything, but with the wind rushing up at me, it was difficult to tell if I was really turning. Or really falling, for that matter. But there sure as hell was no solid ground below me, and as my voiceless cries reached out to no one, that fear began to set in.

My heart thumped rapidly, and I soon found myself wondering what hitting the ground - if there was going to be a ground - would feel like. I assumed death would come quick, but would I feel that sharp snapping of every bone in my legs the second before I die? Or would the trauma be so severe I'd feel nothing at all before my spine split into at least ten different pieces? It was a curious notion, one I never thought I'd be asking myself. Of course none of this eased my poor heart, and I couldn't tell whether or not I was shaking.

Wake up, I heard, but I saw nothing.

I can't, I tried saying back. I'm not on the ground. In the dream, that made perfect, logical sense. Yet I also knew hitting the ground would kill me. The voice insisted I wake again, which made me think I'd be hitting the ground soon, which scared the shit out of me even more. I can't! I cried again, twisting around to try to find the voice. I then began to feel, though never see, objects flying past me, harder and shorter gusts of wind blowing past me.

You have to wake up.

Stop it, I said, without actually saying it. I somehow heard my own voice saying that, but at the same it wasn't being said aloud, as strange as it is. I don't know how. I'm falling, but there is no ground. I can't wake up, it's impossible. Stop shouting!

Open your eyes, James.

I cursed the invisible voice and when I looked down, my face went instantly pale and my heart stopped at the sight of land. It was rushing toward me faster than I felt I was falling, and as I was continuously told to wake up, yet I could do nothing but stare at the Wasteland until at last I struck it. As I thought, the briefest, quickest amount of the most amazing pain I'd ever felt suddenly crunched through my legs and back, and with a loud gasp I opened my eyes.

Around me was darkness, but I felt a warm, comforting paw on my stomach. My whole body was tingling as if I was being rapidly poked by thousands of tiny needles, save where the paw was. "What the fuck was that?" I said aloud, to no one in particular. I was cold and sweaty, too. As my eyes slowly focused, I could see more details of the room. It was metal all around, and a big dark figure close to me. It was undoubtedly his paw on me.

"You're finally awake," said Lloyd, moving his fingers but not his paw. "You were out much longer than I was."

"Out..? What are you..?" I was still a bit dazed from the dream, the intense tingling now starting to recede. I looked around some more as my eyes adjusted to the dark. It didn't look like the storage room we were left in. There was no concrete to be seen, and the shelves were gone and neither Lloyd nor I were on soiled old mattresses. We weren't on any mattresses, which explained the aches and pains in my sides. Believe it or not, I wasn't particularly accustomed to sleeping on flat metal surfaces, not realizing I'd actually prefer jagged rocks over it. "Where the hell are we?"

"I don't know."

"How long were we 'out' for? Why were we even out?"

The tiger shook his head and at last reclaimed his paw. He leaned back on both, and though his army green tank top was almost formfitting, for some reason I thought he was topless. When I glanced down, I thought he was pantsless, too, which made me realize I didn't have anything on either. Save my bandages, of course. "I don't know."

"Well fuck," I frowned. There was a round vent on the wall to my right, and another on the opposite wall, meanwhile in front of me was what could have been a door - it was like no door I'd ever seen - and behind just a plain metal wall. The top two-thirds of the wall was flat, while the bottom looked like it was a slightly different colour, though in the dark it was hard to distinguish specifics. It seemed unlikely any of these walls would provide an exit, despite the wall; I'd learned through experience the most obvious exit was rarely the easiest.

"I think the Ghouls laced our RadAway with some kind of relaxant. You were out almost immediately, myself succumbing shortly thereafter."

"Why would they knock us out? Yoren seemed so nice. Maybe they are going to fucking eat us. Shit, what the hell are we gonna fucking do?" I often prided myself on my ability to stay cool in tight situations, but when it came to cannibalism - was it cannibalism when a Ghoul eats a fur? - I couldn't help but freak out a little. Super mutants threatened to eat me once, and I'd actually seen them do it. Not to me, of course, to some other poor Wastelander, but still. It was enough to turn me off the subject completely. They hadn't even killed the bastard before digging in.

"I don't think it was the Ghouls," the tiger claimed. "Not all of them. Something just doesn't seem right."

"Yeah, you're telling me something doesn't seem right. Ghouls are gonna rip the flesh from our bones, for Christ's sake."

"Stay calm," Lloyd had the audacity to tell me.

Suddenly, the thing I thought was a door creaked and a blinding light began to pour in. When I looked back, at least three figures stood before us, and though they were completely silhouetted, I imagined they were grinning at us.

"How did you sleep?" asked the one in the middle. He seemed amused by our long rest, but he didn't sound like a Ghoul. I think he had a gun strapped to his back, a rifle of some kind, but my eyes were still adjusting to the sudden light.

Neither Lloyd nor I chose to answer. But I could see now we were both totally naked, and under other circumstances I would have totally checked the fat tiger out, but now wasn't really a good time. I had a feeling this newcomer wasn't our saviour. Shame none of our equipment was with us, either.

"Well, no matter." The shadowed figure then looked at Lloyd. "I don't know how you were able to do what you did, tiger, but it seems at last the tables have finally turned. Too bad, too, since you were so close to reaching your goals." The fur was just mocking us now. Canine, I think he was, but it was hard to tell. The two next to him were holding guns at us, otherwise I think Lloyd would have totally attacked.

"Who are you?" I asked angrily, which made the two point their guns directly at me. I sunk back into my shoulders, but still frowned at the three.

"Never mind who we are," said the dog. He spoke in a very soft, soothing voice, yet there was a dangerous hint of authority behind it. "You'll find out soon enough. For now, I just wanted to make sure we had who the Ghoul promised, and I am not disappointed."

The canine in the middle just stood up straight and signalled the other two, who both entered quickly and before I had much time to fight back, I felt the hard thunk of a rifle's hilt against my head, and like that I was in darkness again. I heard a bit of yelling and snarling and shuffling around, but soon everything went deathly silent.

I woke again an indeterminable amount of time later with a splitting headache, like Radroaches were burrowing through my skull and digging their claws into my brain, from the frontal lobe to my neck. What hurt more was where I'd been hit, and I was pretty sure I felt dried blood down the side of my face. I just growled noisily into what felt like a linen sack around my head, and when I tried to move I found I was quite immobile. My wrists, evidently, were tied together behind a chair, and my ankles around the chair's legs. Despite that, I struggled some more, hoping the knot-tier wasn't that good, but it felt pretty solid.

I then heard a deeper growling beside me, which made my right ear twitch, and despite the sack I looked anyway. I couldn't see anything, save a bit of light filtering through, but that was it. No doubt it was Lloyd next to me, waking up from his concussion, too. The deep growl didn't turn into words, just more growls and probably a bit of struggling.

"Lloyd," I called out in a whispering tone. Others could have been in the room with us, but I said it quietly, anyway. "Lloyd!"

"James," I heard call back, relieved to hear the tiger's deep, weathered old voice. He said nothing more.

"It's me, Lloyd." There was a bit of laughter to my voice I couldn't control, so glad it wasn't just me tied to a chair. Hopefully he'd be able to help us escape, since for now there seemed to be no way out. "What the fuck's going on..?"

"I don't know," he answered, which I kind of expected. He was probably hooded, too. "From what I can tell...someone drugged our RadAway and sold us to the Automatons."

"How the hell do you know that?" I stared uselessly at where his voice was coming from.

I heard a bit of rattling, like he'd shrugged despite being tied up. "It makes the most sense. You were knocked out too fast when you de-radiated yourself, and I noticed the energy weapons on our captors. I just don't know which of those Ghouls turned us over."

I scoffed at the idea. "It was probably all of them."

Lloyd grunted.

Suddenly I heard the sound of a metal door opening; it was a hard, mechanical sound, like gears turning and machines working, and a loud clunk when it'd finished. Footsteps then sounded from the entrance, possibly dozens of them pouring into the room, but most noticeably were the heavy footsteps of who I assumed was the leader. At least, the leader of this faction.

"And here we are again," said the soft-voiced canine. He was standing near us, and if I had to guess, the others who'd entered were guards, in case we escaped. Didn't seem too likely to happen, but it never hurt to be prepared. "Things are going to get much more interesting now, for both of us." I couldn't tell which of us he was talking to, so I naturally assumed it was me. Deep down I hoped he was talking to Lloyd, but I imagined whatever fate he had in store for the Automaton-killer, he also had for me. "You may be wondering why you're here, or why you're tied to these chairs."

"I've got a pretty good fucking idea," I shouted, which proved to be a bad idea when I was struck across the face. I probably should have waited for him to remove the hood over my head.

"Indeed," the leader responded. It was probably him who'd hit me. Seconds later, I felt a paw on my head and at last the hood was torn off. Above me stood a familiar face, that of a collie, a male Automaton and clearly their leader; he was the most decorated, though dressed differently than the rest. Like the others here, he wore a blue jumpsuit, but kept the top part open and tied around his waist. For now the handsome collie was topless, save the bandages around his right forearm, and was well-groomed. He had colouring similar to his sister: brown face with a bit of white on his nose, and some black outlining the brown, while his neck, chest and arms were all white, save the dark brown crawling up from his back to cover his underarms, running to about his elbows. His fur was long, but clearly taken care of, trimmed in all the proper places to make him undoubtedly the most beautiful dog in the Wasteland. He looked to be somewhere around my age, give or take, with much finer features than most. Oh, and did I mention his left arm looked like a robot's arm? Because it did; possibly from a former Sentry Bot. "Care to enlighten me?" the collie said softly. He was glowering happily at me, like he enjoyed being pissed off.

"Because you're all a bunch of psychotics." I glanced over to Lloyd, who I could see shaking his head from behind his hood.

"Yes," confirmed the collie, backing away. "We hear that a lot. But you nonbelievers will soon meet your end and my Lord Hyperion will pass the final judgement."

I tightened my lips. Of course he will, I thought to say, but instead took cues from the tiger and kept silent. As I looked about the room in front of me, I noticed a guard in either corner by the doors, both similarly dressed and holding plasma rifles, while cowering in the right corner closest to Lloyd was a nervous and frightened Ghoul. I just stared at him contemptuously, knowing somehow it was he who'd drugged our RadAway. I'd have to remember to thank him for that later.

The collie was looking at me, and when my eyes flicked toward him, he followed my gaze and noticed the Ghoul standing there, too, and laughed through his nose. "You've figured it out, have you? Alex has been very helpful to us, I must say." the collie smirked.

"Coward!" I shouted, which made Lloyd look over, too. I was wondering why he'd been so quiet when we first met him, or rather, when he realized who he'd stumbled upon.

"H-He promised to leave us alone...if I delivered the tiger. It's not...personal."

"Ah, yes, that reminds me," said the dog as he elegantly twirled around. He took a laser pistol from one of the guards when he held out his paw, then pointed it straight toward the Ghoul.

"W-Wait..! No! You...p-promised!"

"I also promised Frost I'd bring the tiger directly to him, and look where we are now. I must thank you, though, for delivering him to me. I'm not sure I could have done it without you, at least, not so easily." And with that, the collie pulled the trigger, boring a hole straight through the Ghoul's rotting skull with a rapid blast of red energy. Alex fell like a sack of rotten meat and the air filled with the stench of burnt flesh and crisp ozone.

The collie threw the pistol back toward the nameless guard, who holstered it quickly, then spun back around toward the other guard nearest the dead Ghoul. "You two," he gestured with his head, also pointing toward the one on the opposite end, "get this pathetic excuse for a fur out of here. Throw him in with the rest of the trash if you have to, I really don't care."

The dog then twirled back toward me again, giving a quiet sigh of relief as the Ghoul was dragged out - I noticed, in yellow, the number 95 on the backs of their jumpsuits, undoubtedly the Vault number. "As I'm sure you've guessed, otter, you are not who we're truly after." He continued as if none of this even happened, apparently ignoring the bloody mess left on the wall. "You're just a consolation prize, of sorts. It's really this tiger we want, and for good reason. Can you tell us why we'd want him?" The collie took three long steps toward Lloyd and suddenly whipped off his hood, scowling at him.

I glanced around the room a bit more as I followed the collie's stride. At least eight similarly-dressed guards stood behind us, wearing blue jumpsuits with a simple yellow stripe running up the centre and around the collar. Each of their jumpsuits, though similar in design, had some subtle differences, which I assumed were additions of their owners. A couple had leather shoulder pads, while others protected their chests and their midsections more. Only one wasn't wearing a helmet, while another had a different sort of head protection. Each guard carried an energy weapon, though, two with rifles and others with holstered pistols. They ranged from both laser to plasma weapons.

"Maybe because he's killed every one of you insane fuckers he's ever come across? With ease?" The collie just glared at me, seeming far more distracted by Lloyd.

Between the tiger and I there was a small, rusty table with a bunch of instruments upon it, including a car and fission battery, as well as a hammer, nails, and various surgical tools, like plastic tubing and scalpels. There was also a few jumper cables lying about, which immediately told me why this collie was so familiar.

"Master Frost has been telling all of us to bring you in," the collie said to Lloyd. "And honestly, I never thought you'd make it this far. Goes to show we should never underestimate our enemies. But he said if we do manage to capture you, to make sure you pay dearly for all your sins and bring you to him. Me, I couldn't care less about the sins you've committed against my Lord Hyperion and our Order. For me, this is revenge for what you did to my dear sister."

"And I'd do it again," Lloyd growled. "You and every one of your Order deserve everything my wrath brings to them. There is no way this will end that will not result in your death."

The collie laughed. "You say that so easily and from your position. I should just kill you right now, or at the very least bring you to Frost. But I'm not going to do that. No, I'm not. Forgive my language, but you fucked my sister up quite a bit, just to find out where we are." The collie held his arms out as if to welcome Lloyd and said, "Well, here we are." He let them slap against his sides before continuing. "You know, she can hardly walk now because of you, and that cannot go unpunished. I won't let it. But how to punish you...well I suppose that will be half the fun, won't it."

"You sick piece of shit," I snarled, jumping in my chair. "You're all a bunch of psychopaths, no better than a group of fucking raiders."

Though the collie was staring at Lloyd, his eyes flicked toward me. Finally he turned to face me. "And I think I know just how to do that."

"No," Lloyd growled. "He had no part in this."

"I am going to punish you, Lloyd Thompson, be assured of that." The collie was standing next to me now, one paw brushing lightly over his tools. "I love my sister too much to take that pleasure away from her. So I suppose for now, this little one will serve to show you things to come. Or not, I suppose it doesn't really matter. You will watch, though."

"Don't," said Lloyd sternly. I wasn't sure which part of him thought he could possibly sound threatening right now. "He has no part in this. The attack on the school, it had nothing to do with James. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I did all the killing."

The collie grabbed something from the table, but I couldn't see what it was. Made my heart race, though, remembering how Lloyd had tortured the dog's sister in order to break the Dalmatian she loved. Neither Lloyd nor I had any information worth sharing with the brother collie, so the start of his little show of revenge wasn't the most fitting. But I guess to him it didn't really matter, so long as he made the tiger squirm. And since Lloyd had just spoken up to protect me - a gesture which would have made me blush under less threatening circumstances - it showed the brother he cared about me, which would make my torture all the sweeter. I would have to remind Lloyd of that if we both somehow managed to survive.

"Yes," the collie agreed. "You did, and that's very sad. But unfortunately for you, and for this otter - James, was it? - I don't particularly care about the others you've killed. I don't even care about these eight men standing behind you, do you understand? I love my sister more than you know, more than...well, perhaps more than a brother is supposed to love a sister. But no matter. You will be punished for your crime against her, and it will bring me immense pleasure to deliver that punishment."

Before Lloyd could say much more, the collie - I was yet to learn his name - marched quickly toward me with a scalpel in his right paw and sliced quickly down my chest, cutting through my bandages with ease and though it stung, cutting me only a little. But with my raw, burned flesh exposed, I was hardly glad for the shallow cut.

"Stop this," Lloyd snarled, pulling on his restraints and, dare I say, flexing those big muscles of his. If only I had the time to notice them in greater detail. "He doesn't deserve this."

"Neither did my sister!" the collie roared, snapping his head toward Lloyd. With teeth bared, he growled and turned back to me, slicing off the bandages around my right arm, then dug the tiny blade into my right thigh.

I cried out as a nasty pain shot up my leg, taking away from the burning itch in my bloody sores. I jumped and thrashed in my chair to free myself from my restraints, but whoever had tied these knots evidently had quite a talent. And so all I could do was yell and snarl until the initial shock wore off, replaced with an equally sharp pain in my leg, but more constant. The only consolation I could see so far was I wasn't going to get shot, at least not with a bullet.

The collie then pulled the old, hanging bandages right off my body, scraping like sandpaper across my burned skin. I snarled at that, but it was hardly the worst I was no doubt about to feel. Having said that, as if on cue the collie took his short, trimmed claws and ran them up the whole of my right arm, tearing at my poor flesh like hot iron hooks.

I screamed at the pain, feeling like he was peeling the flesh straight from my bones with every swipe of his fine claws. All over my right arm and my chest I felt small trickles of blood, either from torn blood blisters or his claws were a lot sharper than they looked. Either way, I couldn't help but thrash about, cursing the knot-tier as well as the dog.

Lloyd cursed the dog, too, threatening him to stop for all the good it did. I certainly did appreciate his voice in that situation, though for as powerful as he was, he wasn't doing a whole lot to help. Apparently the collie was tuning him out entirely, focusing much more on me. Either that, or it was Lloyd's desperate cries which made the collie continue, in which case I was a bit less appreciative of the tiger's effort.

After about five minutes or so of the dog bursting every blister he could find and otherwise torturing my hot, damaged skin, he yanked the scalpel from my leg and sliced off the rest of my bandages, my tail hurting the most. I could barely keep my eyes open from the blinding pain, paws shaking beneath the firmly tied rope. Every so often my body would involuntarily convulse, since about half my body had been terribly abused.

But for now, it seemed the collie needed to take a break, or rather, he hovered somewhere behind me, perhaps perusing the stuff on the table. "There are so many ways to inflict pain," said the dog, "though it would seem you've done a wonderful job of doing that yourself. I imagine those burns must be terrible; plasma burns are simply the worst."

"Fuck you," I rasped, my previous screaming having done wonders on my vocal cords. I'd have to remember not to please the dog so much by yelling for him. "You sadistic...fucker..." I managed to say.

The dog growled, the grabbed two things from the table, swirling around to my front. "Tell me what you see here."

I glanced up. Lloyd was watching, too. "A fucking fission battery, so fucking what?"

The collie _tsk_ed me. "And what of this?" He showed me some strange metal device, the base of which looked like it'd fit like a cap over one end of the battery, except with some strange wires and rods sticking out of it. Specifically, there were two rods with rings running up them and a ball on either end, something like a pair of antennae. Wires stuck out of them and connected to the base, and for as interesting as I was sure the device was, I had no idea what it did.

"Fuck if I know..." I was beginning to wish he'd just get on with it, instead of having to make it a whole damned production.

He just scoffed quietly at me, then snapped the base of the metal antennae onto the fission battery, which made it abundantly clear what he was going to do. "I like to build things," he told me, smiling at his little invention. I imagined he was the one who'd somehow attached that robot arm to himself. "Not weapons, necessarily, but this little experiment of mine was just too successful not to try out. Have you figured it out yet?"

"No more," Lloyd begged, arms stretched behind him as if he hoped to stop the dog with his face. "Enough of this. It's me you want."

Lloyd's words made the collie stop and grin, but other than that he didn't come close to acknowledging him. Instead the dog pressed the two antennae against my chest and forced me to sit back in my chair, and just held it there for a long, dramatic moment. A second later, he flicked a switch beneath his thumb.

Instantly my muscles seized up all over my body and my teeth clenched together so hard I thought they would shatter. Then as the sharp burning pain began to rip through my chest, I cried out terribly and thrashed about until he tore the device away. My body twitched and I smelled burnt flesh, the pain lingering particularly around my bullet wound. I was breathing heavily and my heart beat fast and irregular.

Again the dog attacked me with his little device, this time jamming it into my neck and sending a terrible stream of electricity throughout my body. My eyes were pried open against their will as I jumped spastically in my chair, rope digging into my wrists and ankles. When at last he stopped, I drooped forward and breathed hard, finding catching my breath a difficult, painful task. Each breath in was like being hammered in the chest with the butt of a gun, but I had to force myself to take deeper breaths. My eyes were closed, yet they felt as if they were about to burst. Thankfully, I heard the collie place the device down, though I still dreaded what he held in store for me next.

"I have to admit," said the dog quietly, into my ear, "I've never really had a taste for this sort of thing, and truly there are those far more creative with it than I. And yet watching this tiger squirm and hearing him cry out for you... Well you must be very special to him."

That was almost as surprising as hearing him admit he didn't have a taste for this. Could've fooled me.

"I have heard the most effective ways of inflicting physical pain are often the most simple," announced the brother collie. I was curious where his sister was, though glad she wasn't here. He then picked up a couple metal things off the table - they sounded like nails - then something heavy, presumably a hammer.

My heart sank at those sounds, unable to imagine what he planned to do with either of those objects, or rather, where he planned to hammer the nails. My initial thought was he wanted to do something to my precious balls, cursing myself for even thinking it (which seems to always increase the likelihood of it happening), but though since he, too, was male, and probably quite virile, he might have a greater appreciation for those particular organs. For now, as I dangled away from my restraints, I heard him pacing around me, as if to find the perfect spot. He stepped over my tail, which was a relief, though it would be far more relieving to hear him drop everything instead. But of course he didn't, and for now he stood in front of me, staring at my poor, naked, burned body.

Suddenly, I heard him crouch in front of me and felt the cool sting of a nail pressing between my toes. After realizing just what it was he was about to do, and after hearing Lloyd curse him again and beg him not to, I opened my eyes and gasped silently as his hammer hovered above his head, ready to strike the nail through my webbed toes. Then in a flash, a powerful spike of pain crashed through my left footpaw as the nail drove downward into the floor below me, though I wasn't certain it punctured the metallic surface. Regardless, I cried horrifically as the nail hung between my first two toes, hot with blood and frozen with pain. I screamed again for good measure, footpaw clenched as tightly as it could go and my wrists twisted and writhed as I tried to break free, though I only suffered some nasty rope burns.

"God damn you!" I snarled, the pain still tearing through my foot and eyes full of tears. I tried desperately to kick at the dog, but of course my ankles were tightly bound to the chair. From the corner of my eye I could see Lloyd struggling, too, but he was about as close to freeing himself as I was.

The collie just laughed at me and stood up, leaving the nail there as he placed the rest down but one. "I was always quite curious to know just how sensitive you otters are between your fingers and toes." His eyes scanned my body as if to find the next best spot to hammer a nail, since I suppose my paws weren't in the best position for it. Perhaps he'd do my knees, or my thighs like Lloyd had done to his sister, or my chest, or god forbid, my face. He couldn't keep his eyes off me, and as he paced he idly flicked the tip of the nail toward me, apparently deep in thought.

"Fuck you!" I spat, trying my best to hork something good up; it was mostly just saliva that flew forward, and it didn't even hit him.

"Indeed," he said, then responded by striking me across the face with something big, metal, and hard. Likely the hammer.

Whatever it was that'd hit me, it left a nasty gash in my left cheek; I could feel my warm blood trickling down the side of my neck. The pain was enough to knock me senseless, and it felt as if my entire skull had been split in half. I could still see and hear what was going on, but none of it was comprehensible, more like a blur. Instead all I could focus on was the new pain in my face, my nasty burns smouldering like hot coals, and of course the rusty nail torn through my webbed flesh. I heard myself groaning amongst the distant shouting, my head spinning, then suddenly my right cheek lit up with severely blunt pain. Immediately after a second deep growl, my left cheek was once more graced with amazing, flesh-rending agony. And just when I thought my face could bear no more, a final blow was struck to the right side of my head, shooting pain all the way up and down toward the back of my neck, seeming to rip my brain straight from my skull; a concussion, perhaps, but a massive headache nonetheless. Moments later, when I began to actually think there couldn't possibly be any more, my poor foot suddenly throbbed and clenched as I felt the nail slowly being torn out, which snapped me out of my pain-induced daze and forced out a scream. I thrashed about and roared like only an otter can, serving only to dig the rope further into my wrists, and even more into my ankles. Somehow, the ripping pain in my footpaw intensified the hammering pain in my skull.

But as I discovered when the dog backed away, he hadn't torn the nail out, but only pushed it in further. "Perhaps I should just end your agony now, hm?" asked the collie. "Would you like that, otter?"

It was awfully tempting. "Go to hell," I growled, managing to open one eye to glare at him. Sweat and dirt and blood now coated my brown fur like a thick film. No doubt you could scrape it off easily with a fingernail or claw.

The collie frowned wickedly at me then punched me hard in the chest, then my gut right after, knocking the wind out of me and forcing up even more blood, which now dripped off my chin and soaked into my chest. When I was able to look, I saw he'd punched me with his robotic arm, and I imagined the great pain in my stomach was going to linger around for much longer than I wanted it to. For now, I had to try to catch my Sbreath, which was a task unto itself.

With my body slumped forward, arms tethered to the back of my seat, the dog paced around to my back again and took something else from the table. This time it didn't take me long to figure out he'd taken the scalpel once more. The cool sting of the razor sliced through the raw wounds on my back with agonizing ease, making me groan sorely, then the dog scraped the blade town to my tail without cutting. For now he just ran the blade against my burned skin which stung worse than a Radscorpion, yet he hadn't even cut me yet. With each scrape of his scalpel my tail flicked involuntarily, and I could tell the dog was picking up on that, since moments later he began to slowly carve into my raw, bloody skin. I squirmed and growled and groaned as the blade sliced through my flesh and quickly dashed out, blood spilling over the sores.

"He's had enough!" Lloyd boomed, which thankfully got the collie's attention.

"Has he, truly?" he said, responding to my big best friend for the first time since starting. "How long had you tortured poor Janie's Dalmatian for, hm? He was scarcely recognizable when we found his body, and frankly, Lloyd Thompson, I don't think anybody would have any trouble identifying your otter right now." I wasn't sure what made him assume I was Lloyd's otter, but it was still nice to hear.

Before Lloyd could respond, I felt two clawed fingers dig sharply into a deep incision in my tail, sending a sharp, throbbing pain up my entire spine as the claws burrowed further into the wound. I cried out, trying instinctively to get away but was stuck there, forced to endure the agony. The collie growled angrily then forced his claws out, making sure to scratch at the other sores while doing it. I could hear his heavy, angry breaths as he got more into this. The dog took a quick step to the right and tightly gripped my earring, the one Chase had given me all those years ago. My heart pounded as I waited for him to rip it out, already feeling the intense pain of it before he even moved. And when he finally did move, it was even worse than I imagined, the dog pulling the ring to the very brink of it completely tearing out, but for now he just growled and held me there, I think watching me; I had my eyes clenched shut as I snarled back. The dog tugged even harder, which I hesitate to admit made me whimper much louder than I intended, and tears began to run down my face. Right before ripping it out, however, I was blessed to hear the sound of a heavy metal door grinding opening, which got the collie's attention and forced him to let go. I gasped and whimpered again as my head fell away from his paw, ear bloody and sore. Thankfully, the ring was still in.

"Janie," the dog exclaimed fretfully, coursing gracefully across the room toward the door on my right, the opposite to where the brother collie had entered. Janie, without a doubt, was his sister.

I glanced over to the female dog, who was limping and had to walk with a cane. Like the others here, she was wearing a fresh jumpsuit, or at least as fresh as things got in the Wasteland, the top part tied around her waist like her brother except she wore a tight white tank top, with only a few minor tears. Like her brother, she had beautiful features and an exquisite body, though because of her ordeal at the paws of Lloyd, her fur looked much more dishevelled. She also wore a couple medical braces for extra support, though as she walked toward her brother, she seemed to get around just fine. Apparently the holes in her legs weren't as bad as I'd assumed. Either that, or they pumped her so full of Med-X and Stimpaks she couldn't feel a thing.

"Jaime," she rasped, sounding more like a Ghoul. I think her voice was just sore from her business with Lloyd. "I see you started without me."

"Fear not, dear sister, I left the tiger for you."

Janie grunted. "You sure fucked him up," she said, gesturing toward me with a push of her chin. I wasn't looking right at her, but instead glared from the corners of my eyes; I could feel the blood still pouring down my face, some trickling past my eye. I think my wrists were bloody, too, and my left footpads were definitely skimming a small pool of footblood. My face burned with an intense, dull pain, while my poor raw skin shrieked loudly from the gashes and broken blisters. My stomach hurt, too, about as much as my head, with blood now drying to my chin fur. Fucked up didn't begin to describe how I felt, though I was certain it was an accurate physical description. I just wrinkled my nose at the collie, baring my teeth and a second away from snarling at her.

"The tiger could barely stand it," Jaime said triumphantly.

But she didn't pay me much mind. She was far more interested in Lloyd, except for when she snapped her fingers and a guard immediately handed over a laser pistol. Then she was entirely focused on me, fingers twitching as she limped toward me. I knew what was coming, and I have to say, it wasn't the end I had envisioned for myself. But at least it would be a nice, clean, quick death; laser bolt through the skull should just about do it.

"Before I start on him," Janie told her brother, limping along, "I want to pay him back a kindness."

"He had nothing to do with this," Lloyd insisted loudly. If he was feeling particularly inclined to snap his restrains like thread and come to my rescue, now would have been a perfect time. But my head was ringing with pain, and I think I kept phasing in and out of consciousness, since the next time I looked up, she had the gun nearly pressed against my head and Lloyd was growling at her. "If you pull that trigger, I will make you regret ever being born. James deserves none of this."

Janie spat at Lloyd from across the room. "And what about poor Damien? The Dalmatian you killed after he told you everything you wanted to know? What of him? Did he deserve your brutality?"

Lloyd paused before answering, looking the collie dead in the eyes. When I could glance over, the muzzle of the laser pistol hovering less than an inch above my brow, I noticed the tiger leaning forward like I was, except he looked as if he was trying hard to free himself, or his arms at the very least. He growled quietly and bared his teeth as the large muscles in his arms and chest shook from the strain. At last he said, "Yes," in a deep, awful growl. "He believes in a false god like the rest of you, and follows the word of an inhuman psychopathic slaver."

The sister collie growled and pressed the laser pistol into my head with a painful amount of force, pushing me back so my head leaned away from her, though it was still firm against my skull. I heard her paw shaking against the grip and her finger rattling the trigger, but right before she could pull it, Lloyd distracted us all by letting out a terrifying roar.

When I was able to look over, Lloyd's arms were swinging powerfully away from his back as the rope containing him fell to the floor. An instant later, he snarled and let his fist swing monstrously into one of the frightened and alerted guards, flattening him immediately.

"Don't kill him!" cried the female collie, ripping the gun from my head and aiming it toward Lloyd. A red bolt of laser then ripped through the air with a powerful sting, striking a guard Lloyd had grabbed in the back as he swung him toward her.

But before he could do much more, one of the guards with a plasma rifle came up from behind him, a moment after the second guard had been tossed as a shield, and struck the tiger hard in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. Lloyd stammered forward, then swung his massive paw around and struck the poor Automaton in the face. Immediately after, Jaime swiftly grabbed his electrocuting device and gracefully avoided an attack, then jammed the end into Lloyd's fat belly, shocking him at once.

Lloyd stopped what he was doing as the electricity ran through his body, and though he didn't fall, he glared terribly at Jaime and simply shook, arms twitching as he moved to grab him, like he was trying to fight the effects of the fission battery. But eventually it proved no good, as after a few moments he fell to one knee and snarled, still glaring at the smug collie. I felt a bit of confidence, however, when his paw tightly gripped Jaime's arm, but soon enough he'd fallen forward, paws in front of him. He was breathing, I saw, but his muscles still twitched. Thankfully his eyes flickered open and close, which meant he was at least as conscious as I was, probably more.

"That was a very nice trick," Janie said, breathing heavily from the excitement. "But it wasn't enough to save your lover."

Again, I wasn't sure what was making them assume we were anything more than friends, but it didn't seem particularly prudent to correct them now. In a matter of seconds the dog recharged her weapon with a fresh energy cell, as if it would take more than one shot to kill me and marched back toward me, gun pressed against my head once more. But she waited for Lloyd to open his eyes, which Jaime assisted with.

"I want you to watch as you made me watch, so you can see the consequences of your pitiful actions."

This was it, James Grayson. Your twenty-two years of life ended by the paws of a psychopathic pseudo-religious leader. Your electric soul would soon join the others in the Great Mainframe, or whatever garbage they believed in, before ever even getting that kiss from the tiger. But you lived, you loved, if even for a short while, and hopefully my lord and saviour Hyperion would cleanse me of my sins and let me pass through to the other port...or something along those lines.

I had my eyes shut tightly, but looked to Lloyd in hopes he would have something up his sleeve, but instead he just lay there on his fat stomach watching me. Though my eyes were full of blood and probably some tears, I think I noticed his were wet, too, no doubt feeling as if he'd failed me. After all, despite a bumpy start, he'd done his utmost to keep me alive and to heal me when I was broken. No one had cared for me as he did, not for an extremely long time, anyway. So for now we stared into each other's eyes, myself trying to express my thanks for all he'd done for me, and I think he was trying to apologize for letting things come to this. I saw him struggle, and yet beneath Jaime and his fission battery, he could barely move.

When Janie was sure Lloyd and I were watching each other, she pushed the gun forward once more as if to remind me she was about to pull the trigger, until another interruption thundered faintly around us, from somewhere else in the Vault. Everyone stood alert, the gun a few inches away from me again as the Automatons readied for something. I had no idea what it was, but the tension and unease in their faces told me neither did they.

A second thunderous explosion sounded, this time shaking the room a bit. "What the hell was that?" Jaime asked, alert and ready for action. "What's going on down there?"

Suddenly, another Automaton rushed in, the door slamming shut behind him, gasping for breath. He had blood on his face and his weapon was missing. His jumpsuit was torn and bloody as well, plus if he was one of the guards who'd dragged Alex out, he was missing his helmet, too. It was a gangly wolf who'd hurried in, his fur a mess. Clearly he was stricken with fear.

"What is it?" asked Jaime, still keeping Lloyd in sight. His sister had limped closer, gun shaking but no longer pointed toward me - instead she was aiming it at Lloyd's head, for all the good it did her.

"Explosions," gasped the wolf. "A whole box of plasma grenades...took at least five of us out. Screaming everywhere, snarling and growling, and that stench..."

"Ghouls," Janie stated, gripping her weapon tightly. She looked determined and ready to kill something. Jaime seemed about the same, but kept a cool, calm demeanour about him.

"Well, it would seem your freakish friends have finally grown a backbone," Jaime said to either Lloyd or I. "Tell me, are they feral?"

The wolf shook his head rapidly. "I don't know. Hard to tell amongst the debris, the explosions. Couldn't tell whether it was our screaming, or theirs..."

"Well a lot of good that does," the brother collie said sarcastically. "Ghouls are Ghouls," he announced to his frightened men. "They're sacks of rotting flesh, a nasty disease on this world and even more repugnant to our Lord Hyperion. Kill every one of the-"

Jaime was suddenly cut off when several more explosions shook the room, sounding much closer this time. He just growled with annoyance, that is until a deafening alarm began to blare. Some of the Automatons covered their ears, and I only wished I could. Lloyd seemed distressed, but more because of the noise and confusion, and I hoped he was waiting for a good moment to strike.

Seconds later, the door on the left-hand side of the room rushed open with a horrible grinding noise, and two sentry bots came wheeling in.

"Alert. Hostiles detected. Lethal force authorized for all units," the first one said loudly. The hulking beasts of robots both had Gatling lasers for one arm, and rocket launchers for the other, and they stood around eight feet tall...give or take. I wasn't the tallest Wastelander out there, so anything as tall as Lloyd was enormous. Their armour was thick black metal, and from what I'd heard, extremely difficult to disable. The first one spoke in a deep, monotonous, and very serious voice, glaring down at me from four red spots it called eyes in its dome-shaped head. The most accurate description I'd been able to come up with for these sentry bots are they're essentially small tanks atop tripod legs with ball-shaped wheels.

"Do not interfere with security operations," the second bot told me. I wasn't about to argue.

"You," Jaime said to the first sentry bot. "Get the fuck out there and see what's going on. Eliminate any and all hostiles."

"Threat analysis: Yellow. Searching for hostile targets," it responded, then exited the door.

"And shut that damn alarm off!" cried Janie just as the door shut.

"Everybody," commanded Jaime, "watch the doors. You," he pointed to the other sentry bot, "watch this door, understand?"

"Warning. Non-combatants are advised to leave the area. Security sweep in progress."

"What about the others?" Janie asked her brother.

"If they can't defend our Vault against a pack of rotting Ghouls, then they don't deserve the energy weapons they bear, nor do they deserve a place within the Great Mainframe. They're undoubtedly coming for these two, anyway, so better to bottleneck them at this door and take them out as they try to pour in. We cannot afford to lose the tiger."

His sister seemed uncertain of that assessment, and even more so as more explosions and screams rang louder through the metal corridors of Vault 95. "How many of them are out there?" Janie asked the frightened wolf.

"I couldn't tell," he shook his head. He seemed to have finally caught his breath. "But they were on us faster than we could have anticipated. Barely had time to react before they were in the vault and picking us off. It's a nightmare up there."

The lights began to flicker and pieces of dirt crumbled down as another explosion shook the vault. Jaime turned to the wolf. "And when they attacked, did you come straight here? Or did you at least pretend to be an Automaton?"

"S-Sir..?"

Jaime struck the wolf with the back of his metallic paw, knocking him over. "You're a coward, and you've no place here with us." The collie then nabbed the laser pistol from his sister, much to her surprise, and shot the wolf in the chest three times, killing him. The room went silent.

"No hostiles detected. Continuing perimeter sweep."

Some of the other guards shifted uncomfortably as they stared at their leader. Either that or because the noise was steadily growing louder. Either way, all I could do for now was sit tied to my chair, bleeding and sore, hoping either for a swift death, or a swifter rescue.

"You won't win," growled Lloyd, still below Jaime. The canine now held both a laser pistol and his stupid little device. "They're going to tear every last one of you apart."

Jaime just laughed. "Right now my sentry bot is ripping them to shreds, and if by some divine miracle they get past it, they still have to get through me."

"Shouldn't be too hard," muttered Lloyd, which got an irritated growl from Jaime.

The dog looked like he was about to say something, or do something, when all of a sudden something loud and hard crashed into the door, making half the room jump and point their guns toward the right-hand door. All was silent for an excruciatingly long time, until at last Jaime opened the door. Much to his surprise and horror, an audible gasp escaping through his teeth, a trashed sentry bot lay wasted by his feet. The dog stepped back, then immediately looked up when he heard shouting and what I could only assume was a large group of armed Ghouls coming at him from down the hall.

Immediately the dog backed away and opened fire, while the others behind him waited for him to move. Nearly tripping over Lloyd, Jaime backed enough away for the door to close again, but jumped when a crazed mob began banging on the door, the sound echoing through the room. At some point, I noticed, the alarm had been deactivated, and was replaced by the angry cry of at least four dozen Ghouls.

"Threat level: Red," stated the sentry bot. Considering these psychos worshipped robots, it amazed me only two came to Jaime's aid. Perhaps all the others were out there with the rest of the Automatons, now piles of scrap.

For now, the whole room watched the door intently, including myself. If it was the Ghouls we'd met down in the city's sewers, they sure as hell didn't sound like them. The roar of the silence was deafening, as if the Ghouls were waiting for us to open the door, or rather, the Automatons. But nobody made a move, and I could tell Janie was feeling even more nervous now that her brother held her pistol, which originally belonged to one of the other guards. When I was able to glance back without too much pain, though, they all had weapons.

"Be advised. Security sweep in progress. Lethal force may be used without warning."

Then we all held our breath as the door began to work its hard, rusty old gears, piercing the deadly silence as its mechanisms slowly pulled the door apart. Just when the door slid completely open, a whole gang of Ghouls came piling in, screaming like their feral brothers as the Automatons opened fire.

"Hostile detected. Non-combatant safety can no longer be guaranteed. Weapons free."

Just as the sentry bot opened fire against the first poor Ghoul to burst into the room, Lloyd suddenly lifted himself off the floor, completely free of his restraints and swung both massive fists around to strike Jaime in the face while the dog was distracted. With a snarl, he smacked away the unarmed sister and kicked Jaime hard in the gut as he began to recover, then wove under the sentry bot's right arm - it's Gatling laser - and pressed himself against the wall behind it. Within seconds of pressing himself against the wall, he quickly jumped up on the sentry bot's back and smashed his fist against its back, tore off some panel and ripped something out. Wasting no time at all, he beat down the distracted Automatons which allowed more Ghouls to come through, then with one quick swipe of his claws, freed my arms.

"Lloyd!" I cried happily as my bloody wrists came free from that infernal rope. My left footpaw still throbbed from the nail, but Lloyd freed both of them anyway, then lifted me up and brought me back toward the wall and set me down, hardly giving me time to take a second breath. In that instant, he kicked the sentry bot hard in its back leg, forcing it to turn toward us, however after the tiger ducked out of the way, it opened fire on its own men.

"Engaging hostile target," it said in its flat, deep voice as its laser began taking out disoriented Automatons. It then held up its other arm and said, "Locking on... Firing." Half a second later, with a hot fwoosh a missile blew the remaining Automatons to pieces, showering their electronic souls all over the metal walls. For a moment I just stared at the bloody mess in horrid disbelief, until a mighty roar on behalf of Lloyd shook me from my stupor.

The tiger, who was right behind the sentry bot, climbed up on its back leg before it could turn around and used a laser pistol he'd evidently picked up to shoot the shit out of the hole in its back. He snarled wickedly as he clung on, now riding it like a mechanical bull, soon dropping the pistol as the robot crashed forward, obviously no longer in control.

"Threat assessment: Red. Primary functions disabled. Shutdown immanent. Reinforcements recommended." In just a second, the robot rolled to a stop and just lurched forward, until at last it fell over. "Primary systems offlinnn--"

For a moment the room was silent, which had filled with Ghouls while I was distracted with Lloyd's impressive display of robot-killing. At least five Ghouls were holding various old guns toward Jaime, who just stared contemptuously at the rotting furs, while his sister, unarmed, stood nearby. She looked equally as impressed.

But before any of our rescuers could say anything, Janie growled terribly and pushed herself forward, knocking over a couple Ghouls and cursing Lloyd's name even worse than I'd been doing since we first met. Jaime cried for her to stop, but she wouldn't listen, eyes completely fixed on Lloyd, who had just climbed off the ruined mess of a sentry bot. At some point she'd acquired a hunting rifle, probably from one of the Ghouls she knocked over, and now held it right at his head.

Watching this in a bit of a daze, my right paw immediately slammed down to my side, eyes focused on Janie yet somehow I'd found a weapon. Letting my instincts take control, I held the grip tightly and pulled the gun up as quick as I could, seeing it was a laser pistol as I aimed it precisely.

She cried, "For Lord Hyperi--!" but I was quick to silence her; before finishing her stupid warcry, a white-hot beam of concentrated light cracked through the air and drilled a fresh hole in her brain. The sister collie fell immediately, and her brother cried out in revulsion and pain.

Lloyd just looked at me in disbelief, but expressed his gratitude with his wide, surprised eyes.

"God damn you!" snarled the male collie, now pinned to the floor by the five Ghouls; three were needed to hold down his robotic arm. Tears were streaming down his face at the loss of his dear sister, but stopped his growling when a familiar green glow entered the room.

"Your reign of terror in my city is now at an end," said Yoren, the Glowing One from back in the sewer. It appeared he cleaned himself up a bit, seeing no signs of glowing green mushrooms sprouting from his paws or his legs.

"Who the fuck are you?" growled Jaime. The Ghouls holding him down shifted a bit as Yoren approached.

"Just a citizen now, young collie."

Jaime tightened his lips and scowled terribly at the Glowing One standing just five feet away from him. He was breathing heavily, paws shaking from unimaginable rage. With a deep growl, the Ghouls shifted again to hold him down, but Jaime's robotic arm proved to be much stronger than they thought. In just a moment, the dog caused a great uproar as he lifted himself up and pushed the Ghouls away against their will, slamming them shockingly hard against the wall, then cracked the skulls of the other two and snarled as he attacked Yoren.

But before anyone could really react, the ancient Ghoul simply held out his right paw to catch the robotic punch and swung himself forward to get his left paw on Jaime's chest. The two shared a quick glance, and immediately a loud steaming noise began to sound from the Ghoul's body.

"Wh-Wha..?" said the dog in disbelief, as if he was feeling some change in his body. "What the fuck are you...doing..?"

Yoren's face went from serene to pissed in a matter of seconds, and after just a moment of concentration the two were suddenly covered in a dense haze of greenish radiation, seeming to concentrate just around them.

"Ah... AH!" cried the Automaton, trying to break free but apparently finding it impossible. Yoren held his paws on the dog, concentrating and oozing more of the deadly gas. In just moments, Jaime began to cry out even louder, his fur falling out shockingly fast and skin starting to redden all over. Soon large blisters formed and sores, which quickly began to burst and bleed, all while he held his stomach and groaned wretchedly. The collie coughed up copious amounts of blood, then vomited all down his chin and well-trimmed chest, screaming shortly thereafter as even his face began to bleed. In almost no time at all, nearly his entire body was covered in nasty blisters and bloody ulcers, and he looked as thin as any Ghoul. Jaime fell to his knees in excruciating pain, his terrified cries weakening with the rest of his body, until he could sustain life no longer. When at last Jaime went silent, he fell totally limp before the Glowing One, bloody and lifeless.

When the visible radiation began to wisp away through the ventilation shafts in the ceiling, Yoren looked over at me with a tranquil smile. I was still sitting back against the wall with a throbbing footpaw by the time Jaime died, but a naked Lloyd approached me and lifted me to my feet, giving me precious little time to check him out; I'd only managed a quick glance before I was pulled up.

"Thank you," I said to Yoren, holding onto Lloyd so I wouldn't fall over. My left leg I had to keep bent so I wouldn't step down, the pounding, blazing pain almost too much. My burns, too, now stung even more than usual, but on the plus side, I think at least the cuts had finally stopped bleeding. My face was battered and bruised, and my head was throbbing like my brain was trying to rip free. And to top everything off, my stomach still hurt from the hard punch. But...I was glad I could still walk, at least with Lloyd's dutiful assistance. Hopefully he would let us rest before moving out, and remove that fucking nail. "We, um...we'd have been dead if you hadn't come along."

Yoren smiled. "I thought about your visit after you two left me, pondering your words. We Ghouls are too used to running and hiding, and though we suffered losses today, we have gained a great victory. This day will serve as a reminder that we need not be ruled by fear. I have shown my brothers we can fight back, and you have also shown not all you smoothskins are alike. They have forgotten that some do and will accept us in their world, and see us for who we really are, not just the rotting demons after which we have been named. You two, James Grayson and Lloyd Thompson, you are the good in this black and wicked wasteland, and it would serve us Ghouls to remember that."

We aren't that good, I wanted to say, but I smiled and nodded politely instead, accepting his very high praise. Lloyd did about the same.

"No doubt more Automatons will be back to inspect their losses," said the Glowing One a bit more gravely. "But none will be able to enter for another month, should we let the vault door close. None other than Frost, of course, and his higher disciples." Yoren then looked around, which was when I realized most of his Ghouls had left. "No doubt my brothers are looting the place. You may join us back in the city if you wish, or stay here; we will leave the door open if you stay, but I suggest leaving as soon as you have your strength back. It will not take long for them to realize something is amiss, and it's almost a day's walk to the Outer Ring of Ronto."

Lloyd nodded again. "I appreciate the offer, Yoren, but the Automatons are nothing if not well-equipped. I will make use of their medical supplies and food and drink, then we'll be off by daybreak. I am sorry for your losses, but your gains far outweigh the lives taken here."

"It is a sad truth," said the glowing Ghoul sullenly. "But we will remember this day, this victory, and with time I hope to turn this city into the thriving populace it once was, for Ghouls everywhere. It will be a haven for those shunned by the rest of the world, abused and thrown from their homes because of the fear and intolerance and ignorance of others. Though some do tolerate, and even accept our kind, Lord knows the vast majority are not ready to admit we are no different than they are."

"Take care of yourself," Lloyd responded, still holding me up. A couple times my footpaw came close to stepping down, but the pain was never too far behind. "When all is said and done, I hope we will someday meet again."

At the risk of sounding callous and insensitive, I never really had a stomach for these kinds of situations. It was great everyone learned something and they gained a victory, but we didn't have to stand around for a lifetime talking about it. My whole body was in pain and with no way to console me, I just wanted a bit of peace and quiet, if only for a short while. And some Med-X would be great, too. Lots of it. But of course my only mode of transportation seemed intent on drawing this out as long as he could, probably just to torture me, as if Jaime hadn't done a good enough job. After another friendly nod and a smile from Yoren, though, he at last left with the few others who'd stuck around to carry out their dead.

After they left, Lloyd followed and I limped along with him, myself hopping on one foot for fear of tearing out the nail. The tiger had the audacity to ask me how I was feeling, and if it hadn't been for the pain throbbing in my skull and ripping through the rest of my body, I would have probably told him to go fuck himself. Instead I just frowned and groaned, holding onto him tighter. We were both still naked and had no idea where they put our stuff. With any luck, it'd be in the infirmary, or the armoury, or wherever they stored their medical supplies. Some food would be nice, too.

At an intersection in the metallic corridors, we said our farewells to Yoren and the others, and after telling us where the armoury was - where they kept most of their supplies - and inviting us back to the city when all was said and done, we finally parted ways.

The vault was poorly lit, yet it clearly had power. I had no idea where it was coming from, but Lloyd seemed to think it was from an old nuclear reactor, since back in the pre-War days, most everything ran that way. Like their cars, for instance, were nuclear-powered, and some homes even had their own little generators instead of linking to an enormous plant. Small wonder why almost the entire world was bathed in atomic fire, and why half of it was still heavily irradiated and inhospitable. Unless you were a ghoul or super mutant.

After what felt like an incredible journey, having nearly thrown myself down two separate sets of stairs, we came to a door labelled Armoury and were quick to enter. The door, like every other one in this rusty old vault, opened with a grinding screech and revealed four lengths of four-foot shelves, which were two units long, creating five separate aisles. Upon closer inspection, I realized, each length of shelves were actually two separate units back-to-back, essentially using more shelving space in a smaller area. There was also a door on the opposite side, but it looked well-fortified.

The shelves were full of various items, most of which I'd encountered dozens of times in my life so far. The middle aisle had mostly clothing items, such as leather armour, bits of metal armour, and dozens upon dozens of those blue 95 jumpsuits. Admittedly, with the exception of my weapons, I would gladly abandon my old gear in favour of some of this new stuff, though most of it looked quite worn. I was never one to turn down useful gear, though, and would hopefully get time from the impatient tiger to scour the room for even more goodies.

The next aisle over, to the left of the entrance, was full of weapons and ammo, most of which were energy weapons, but there was plenty of 10mm pistols and 5.56mm assault rifles to choose from, too, and even a few hunting rifles. The guns all inhabited one four-foot unit, on all three tiers, while their respective ammo lay on the proceeding (or preceding, depending on which direction you were walking) four-foot unit. Everything was stored very neatly, and more organized than I had ever been. It was almost impressive, though not surprising since all these psychopaths considered themselves robots.

Though we hadn't yet gotten a chance to explore the shelves on the other side of the Armoury, it didn't matter so much since Lloyd and I found all their medical supplies in the last aisle, everything stacked and stored in a painfully orderly fashion. They had piles of medical kits in such perfect columns, they almost looked glued together - my curious, restless right paw discovered with a loud crash they were, in truth, not glued together. Despite my disorderly conduct, there were neat pyramid-shaped stacks of perfectly rolled bandages, and beside them a dozen bottles of Rad-X, which was stored in four rows of three. And beside them was what I really wanted: the Med-X. The Med-X, as with every other damned item in the Automaton Armoury, was placed perfectly along the front of the shelf, plunger side forward, ten in a row with a second row above it. Sadly, Lloyd grabbed only one syringe (and without even shifting one of the others!) and four rolls of bandages, amazing me again with his monstrous dexterity. Perhaps he was a robot, too. The tiger quickly grabbed some bottle from a shelf I hadn't looked at and when he tried to lead me away, I swiftly nabbed at a few Stimpaks and received a frown for knocking some more things over, including a whole stack of Mentats. But at least he didn't try to take the chems away from me.

Across the from the Armoury was what appeared to be the Infirmary, though the lit sign had been cracked and was no longer lit. From the corridor side of the window, the room was very dark and appeared empty, though with the poor lighting outside and the obvious age of the tempered glass, it was difficult to tell. The glass itself looked like it had been smeared with some thick white substance and attempted to be cleaned, and the person cleaning the glass had missed dozens of splotchy spots. The dim lights reflected horribly in the glass, too, which made viewing through it more difficult, but Lloyd was intent on entering anyway.

As I suspected, the room was dark save the bit of light filtering through from the dirty window behind us, as well as the window on the adjacent wall furthest from us. The tiger searched for but a moment and found the light switch, which bothered my eyes for a moment before they quickly adjusted. The Infirmary, as it happens, was an enormous chamber split into two rooms by a perfectly straight line of several cloth curtains, with only an eight-foot gap serving as an exit/entrance. Shockingly, one of the curtain racks was knocked over, the one closest to the door we'd entered through, which allowed us to see the other room was full of mattresses. This side of the room, however, had several mobile medical tables and all sorts of dead gadgets and monitors, as well as a bunch of shelves and tables with dozens of used medical supplies and tools. Most alarming was the table with at least three bloody bone saws, which had clearly been thrown aside carelessly, and the few others which had not yet been bloodied. Dozens of empty Med-X syringes were strewn about the about the Infirmary and lay scattered across the floor and tables. When Lloyd led me into the next room, upon the floor next to the curtains was an untidy pile of destroyed robots, most of which were missing their arms and other components connected to their arms. A quiet shiver ran up my spine.

At long last, Lloyd finally set me down on one of the mattresses, the one least soiled, which wasn't saying much. But at least I was able to sit with my naked back against the cool metal wall, the window just above my head. I was exhausted and in pain, and wanted nothing more than to simply fall asleep where I sat and wake up with no more cuts and no more bruises, and especially no more burns. I wanted to wake up and be back in the Wasteland, travelling alone and finding my own way through this shitty world, with no one to distract me and get me hurt. I loved Lloyd, and more than appreciated his helping me, but I hadn't suffered so many wounds since before meeting him. Life sucked before, but it sucked even more now. I just wanted to close my eyes and have him disappear along with this wretched vault and this smelly city and ugly Ghouls, and these damned Automatons could go back to not knowing me.

When I opened my eyes again, though, I was still in the bright Infirmary with a fat, old tiger next to me preparing his medical supplies. I sighed heavily and glanced away, again at the pile of armless robots. I imagined a crazed male collie with a bloody arm dangling off his shoulder like a useless chunk of meat, blood everywhere and others trying desperately to tame and subdue the wild beast. Those bone saws had undoubtedly been used to brutally slice off the remaining portion of his flesh, meanwhile confused robots were being ordered to power down. All I envisioned then was a dark, insane experiment - accentuated by the collie's high-pitched screams which were matched only by the bone-chilling sounds of power tools - where flesh and steel fused and intertwined. I shuddered again to think of it, opting instead to glance back at Lloyd. He was staring at me, kneeling on an old filthy mattress to my right.

In his left paw he held a folded length of bandages like a cloth and a bottle of clear liquid in the other. "I'm ready to dress your wounds," he told me. He presumed I wanted it done, which irritated me somewhat, though that was exactly what I wanted. Well, what I wanted more was for him to either leave me alone, or touch me in such a way that I didn't want him to leave me alone, but it seemed neither was ever going to happen. I sighed quietly and nodded, feigning a gentle smile. It was hard to smile when my entire face felt bruised and hurt.

When Lloyd glanced down at the nail still piercing my webbed toes, my gut wrenched painfully and my face moulded into that of pure agony. I knew what he wanted to do, and though I knew he had to do it - my entire footpaw was still throbbing - I really didn't want him to. I'd been tortured enough as it was. But when I suddenly saw images of festering wounds and amputated feet in my mind, with a heavy, anxious sigh I stuck my left footpaw out. I was trembling a bit, paws gripping and releasing the sides of the mattress below me, then held on tightly when Lloyd moved in front of me. I just looked away and shut my eyes tightly, footpaw shaking even more than the rest of me. The tiger held onto my footpaw tightly, pressing it into the mattress with amazing strength, then I felt his other paw hold onto the nail like it was a needle.

"Take a deep breath," said Lloyd. I could feel the pressure of the nail as he held onto it, anxiously waiting for him to rip it out, but I did as I was told. "After I count to three, slowly exhale; I'm going to remove it."

I exhaled once and took a few shallow breaths first, eyes still closed, then took my deep breath. One... Two... Three. And sure enough, as soon as Lloyd said three, he began to yank on the rusty old nail, sending an immediate pain shooting up my leg. Though I started with a pretty good exhale, it quickly dissolved into an ear-splitting roar and dozens of curse words I wasn't sure I'd ever used before. My paws nearly tore the edge off the mattress as the nail slid free of my poor webbing, blood pouring out as it came completely free, but Lloyd was quick to put the bandages around it, which stung almost as much as the procedure had. Nevertheless, after pushing more bandages between my toes, which felt wet and stung, he promptly began to wrap my footpaw with one of the bandage rolls, which incidentally held the cloth tight around my new hole.

I groaned loudly as he wrapped my foot, the pain much less severe now, but still extremely prevalent. It was a more of a sore throbbing, which maintained even after he tied the bandages off below my calf muscle.

"There," was all the tiger said, rubbing my footpaw gently.

"Fuck," I spat, feeling my lips tremble. I hated pain - like any sane person would - and today I'd received enough to last me a lifetime. My whole body throbbed and ached. I felt like it was never going to go away, which was a depressing thought, nearly enough to make me cry. But I was stronger than that. For now I just painfully turned to my side, leaning forward to get onto my knees, then turned away from the tiger and away from the pile of dismembered robots, waiting for him to continue on.

"I suppose I owe you a few explanations," said Lloyd. "After what he did to you...it's the least I can do."

No fucking kidding, I felt like saying, but I grunted a sound instead.

"I'm not sure where to start."

I was kneeling with my back to the tiger, still waiting for him to start bandaging me. "How about why you have such a huge fucking hard-on for killing Automatons? They killed your family? So fucking what? Mine was killed, too, but I'm not god-damn rampaging over it."

I heard Lloyd dump some of that clear liquid into the folded bandages, then he sighed quietly. "This is going to sting," was all he said before pressing the cloth onto my burned, cracked, horribly red skin, and immediately an icy-cold, razor-sharp searing pain drilled into my right shoulder where the cloth was, and continued along as he wiped it across my back. I cried out and pushed the tiger away.

"What the fuck is that shit?" I snarled, my skin still burning like he'd poured acid all over me.

"It's alcohol. Made to clean your wounds to prevent infection. I'd have used it the first time I bandaged you, but it's an extremely rare find."

"I'm pretty sure that's not alcohol," I said doubtfully. "Doesn't smell like any alcohol I've ever seen."

"This alcohol you can't drink. It's an antiseptic, and I know it stings, but that just means it's working. Also means your nerves aren't permanently damaged, which means you might actually grow some fur back. This shit will help."

I grumbled something quietly to myself, something I wasn't sure was ever intended to be actual words. I then turned back around and braced myself for another dose of his damnable alcohol. Seconds later, my horrid wounds lit up and I suppressed some harsh growls and nasty words. Admittedly, when he finished rubbing the alcohol all over my back and chest, my wounds hurt a lot less. Soon he began wrapping my torso up, slowly rolling the clean bandages across my red skin, his vicious paws as gentle as ever.

"It wasn't the Automatons who killed my family," the tiger stated solemnly as he leaned forward to roll the bandages over my chest. "They weren't around then. And my family... He didn't kill my parents, or my brothers or sisters. He killed my wife and child when I wasn't much older than you. Seems like a lifetime ago, but the wounds burn as terribly now as they had then."

"Who's 'he?'" I asked quietly. It was obviously a touchy subject, understandably.

Lloyd suppressed a low growl. "He was the leader of a large Slaver group north of here called the Red Wasters. They all used to wear red bandanas around their arms so you'd know who it was. My wife, child and I were taken by them over twenty years ago."

I had a hard time imagining Lloyd being captured by slavers, or anyone for that matter, but I wasn't about to call him a liar.

"My wife and I... Well, not wife in the traditional sense. We never officially married, but we both knew we'd spend the rest of our lives together. She was a tigress - Georgia - and we'd known each other since we were cubs. Our parents always said we'd grow up and get married and have dozens of cubs of our own, but we never believed them. We just laughed and told them they were gross, then went out to play." Lloyd then laughed quietly through his nose, just as his paws crossed the bandages over my chest again. Those were probably the good days, or perhaps for Lloyd, the best days. "Of course, when we both became teenagers, myself a couple years older than her, our bodies naturally changed and suddenly what our parents had told us quickly became less silly. I was nineteen when Georgia and I had a child, and though he was not intended, we were the happiest couple you could ever hope to find in the Wasteland. Healthy children are a rarity.

"It wasn't until six years later when the Red Wasters would attack our town. They were brutal and without mercy. They wiped out all the old people, my and Georgia's parents included, and rounded up the women and children into one group, the healthy men into another. Those who fought back were killed outright, though they must have seen something special in me. I killed three of them before they were able to subdue me, and for whatever reason their commander saw fit to spare me. Didn't help that he threatened my wife and my child. He was only six years old. Little Luca had no idea what was going on, clinging to his mother fiercely. He watched as they beat me, his indestructible father defeated by five men with metal batons. Shortly thereafter, they threw chains on all of us and marched us to their rusty old shanty town they called Northern Pride."

Lloyd finally finished bandaging my chest and back, then began on my right arm, which had almost entirely been burned. The alcohol stung ferociously, but it wasn't as much a shock by that point. Lloyd began to wrap it up, then continued. "For two years we lived there, two years forced into a life of slavery for those dirty old fools. Most of from our town had been sold off, but for whatever reason their leader... He wanted to keep me for himself. Which meant my wife and child would stay alive, otherwise he would have no leverage over me. He knew I hated him, knew I wanted to rip his pretty little face off, but he always kept my wife close to him, and young Luca even closer. Every day was a new threat: either he would kill them, or sell them, or give them to his men. Even now, I have no doubt in my mind he raped poor Georgia every night, using Luca's life as leverage over her. We would do anything for our child, and...and Frost knew it."

Suddenly my ears perked and a frozen finger ran up my spine. I had to pause before asking, "Frost..?"

Lloyd growled, nearly finished wrapping my arm. He said nothing before finally tying a small knot behind my triceps. He continued onto my left arm, burns only above and below my elbow. "After two years," the tiger said, apparently ignoring my question, "I don't know what changed. Maybe he'd found someone else, or maybe he just got sick of my face. Perhaps he began to realize I would do anything for Georgia and Luca, and the fun of torturing me with that started to wear thin. Whatever his reason, one day he brought my wife and son out of his ramshackle home into the common area outside, more drunk than usual. He called everyone forward, all of his slaves and his comrades, claiming Georgia was now 'open for business.' He laughed and threw her toward his men, laughing harder as she stumbled down. Georgia and I knew what he meant, and understood mutually what had to be done in order to keep Luca safe.

"And while some of the others got excited over the prospect, eyeing her hungrily, some seemed disinterested. But Frost knew. He knew what they craved, and at once he announced, with a bottle of vodka in his paw, that not only was my whore available to any of the men who wanted her, so, too, was my son. He threw my confused boy forward with my wife, glancing at me to see my reaction. In any situation, I'd always just held my head low and let him do what he had to, but that day... That day was my breaking point."

I was frozen in my place as Lloyd told his story, finishing up with my other arm. Very slowly he urged me onto my feet, and dutifully he began wrapping my right leg, up around most of my thigh. His paws were gentle, despite the alcohol burning my wounds clean, though I could tell he was restraining a lot. "I'd cursed Frost's name, which granted me a bruise on the back of my head from the butt of a hunting rifle, and was held back as I tried to attack him. He threw his bottle at me and laughed, waving at his men to tell them to continue. It took four men to hold me back as he forced me to watch three others have their way with Georgia. Everything was an enormous blur, the roar of the crowd deafening, but I was powerless to do anything. I can still hear her dreadful cries as if it'd all happened yesterday, but no cries are more vivid in my mind than that horrid sound my son made when that large old Grizzly put his paws on him.

"I was always quite big, even for a tiger, but I was nothing then like I am now. And yet when my poor boy screamed for me, some amazing power came over me. I threw the men away holding onto me as if they were grass dolls, my powerful roar piercing the thunderous cries of the slavers, and I tore the throats out of any who dared oppose me. I managed to take down five slavers before the Grizzly backed away from my son, despite being at least a foot taller than me and about twice as heavy. It took killing two more to get the men off my wife, and still that damned panther laughed at me. When I turned, he held a gun toward my poor family; a laser pistol."

Lloyd had already begun on my other leg by the time he paused, and I could certainly feel the tension in his paws as my cuts and scars and blisters lit up with biting pain, subdued when the bandages rolled over them. I quickly realized why Lloyd was so reluctant to tell his story, and admittedly felt a little bad for getting so angry about it before. "Frost stood about an equal distance away from Georgia and Luca as I did, but was too far for me to reach him. With all eyes upon us, he told me how much he hated me, and hated my little town and hated my wife and my son especially. I don't know what I'd done to make him hate me as much as he did, nor my family, but when it became clear I posed a real threat to him, he had to put an end to that immediately. Giving me hardly any time to react or to stop him, he bored a hole straight into my beautiful wife's head. By the time I reached my son...he was already dead."

At last Lloyd finished wrapping my limbs, save my tail, and for now I knelt back down in front of him, knees landing softly on the dirty mattress below. My heart thumped loudly against my chest, almost feeling Lloyd's pain. I felt horrible for acting the way I had, figuring a giant like him would have easily gotten over the death of his tired old parents, assuming that'd been the case. Had I realized it wasn't, and that the pain still burned him as much as my skin burned me now, I would never have pestered him like I had. My stomach churned with the guilt, and I really had nothing to add. I wanted desperately for the tiger to change the subject, or at least continue on with the story, if for no other reason than to divert away from the thundering silence crashing around us.

"After that, the fool thought he had me wrapped around his fingers. I had nothing else to live for, nothing left to lose, and when Frost finally bored of my misery, he sold me. Some arms dealer bought me for five plasma pistols, five laser pistols, and a rusty old Flamer; apparently all I was worth to them. But en route to his home - I never learned where it was - I escaped, killing both him and his guards with relative ease. I suppose the arms dealer hadn't considered I might use his own wares against him. Suppose he thought I was more subdued than that, more beaten down and more compliant, but he hadn't the faintest idea just how determined I was. I broke his neck and shot his guards dead, then after rearming myself, I removed my slave collar and set off to hunt Frost down. But when I reached Northern Pride only days after being sold, Frost and his Red Wasters had up and left. Nothing remained but a few dead slaves and some rusty old homes. I buried my wife and son, then began my hunt."

Lloyd at last began to clean my tail, gently washing away dirt and bacteria with the alcohol, nipping terribly at my skin and yet his paws somehow made it soothing. I sighed quietly as his shockingly soft pads massaged the red, broken skin, making sure every inch was clean before applying the bandages. I think he was down to his last role, or part of a role. "It would take another eight months," he said as he slowly rolled the white material around and around the base of my tail, "before ever catching up with the Red Wasters, but when I did, I could almost taste my revenge. They were about a day ahead of me, I'd been told, camped just half a day's walk outside some small village. I knew from following him that would be his next target, and in my mind I would stop him before ever giving him the chance. It took every ounce of strength not to run forward, headstrong and stupid. I had to pace myself, which became a greater task with every footstep. But when I at last caught up with him, I let myself loose.

"The village had already been attacked, the Wasters striking just before dawn. It was halfway to noon by the time I smelled smoke in the air, and another hour before I'd arrived. My eyes burned and my nostrils stung, but I knew Frost was there, sacking yet another pitiful town for its supplies and its people. Amongst the confusion and clamour and the roaring flames of the burning village, I ripped through Waster after Waster, hoping one of them was Frost but was always disappointed. When at last I found him, an old body fell and the crisp scent of ozone somehow wafted through the smoke. When he lowered his weapon, our eyes met, and still he mocked me with his smile.

"At last you've found me, he said with just that wicked smile alone, as if he'd somehow known I'd escaped and had been chasing him, like he'd been expecting me. I was covered in the blood of his comrades, and without a word spoken between us, somehow it was understood he'd been defeated, and yet that damnable smile mocked me from twenty feet away. He knew something I didn't, like he had some trick up his sleeve that would claim him a victory. And when he held up that same laser pistol he'd slaughtered my own wife and child with, he pointed it toward a crying two-year-old otter."

Again I found myself paralysed, listening to the words but barely comprehending. Images and thoughts ran through my mind too fast to make any sense of them, yet I continuously clung to one that I would never be able to confirm on my own. When Lloyd finished bandaging my tail, he tied a little knot and gave it a gentle stroke all the way down to the tip, as if to tell me he was finished. When his paws drifted away, it forced me to slowly turn and look the tiger in the eyes, and that was when I knew, when he'd confirmed the dozens of thoughts rushing through my head lightning-fast.

"Frost then raised his gun toward me and fired, slicing open my shoulder and taking off away from me. The son-of-a-bitch left me with only two options. " Lloyd paused for just a second before continuing, though it was a wonder how I managed to hear anything at all with the blood pounding through my ears. He placed a comforting paw on my tail once more, gripping gently. "Either chase after him, or rescue the small otter from what would certainly be death."

"Was..?" I couldn't get the question out, yet thankfully perceptive old Lloyd knew what I was trying to ask.

He nodded. "I took you from the ashes of that burning town and delivered you to a small farm a few days away, to the couple who'd directed me to Frost's location. They promised to take care of you, and it would seem they've taught you well."

"Shit," I exhaled, staring forward. I couldn't recall exactly what my parents had taught me, or rather my adoptive parents, besides how to swim, but I suppose my still being alive said volumes about my upbringing. After a few deep breaths, my eyes turned toward the tiger. "So, what, have you been, like...watching over me? This whole time?"

Lloyd smiled quietly and looked down toward his paw, which was now trickling back up my tail. "No," he said. "But if there is such a thing as Fate, it has brought us together once more."

I shifted and turned, letting Lloyd hold onto my tail as I put a paw on his naked leg. My poor paws were shaking, and when I paused to stop myself, I realized the rest of me was, too. I didn't feel particularly cold, besides the constant chill from my bullet wound, and yet I was shivering quite terribly. My eyes met Lloyd's, and his gaze seemed to hold me there, my heart pounding even harder than it had when we found that food vault. I felt a strange warmth inside, and as my paw crawled slowly up the tiger's leg, I was at last able to find my words. "You're...my Golden Behemoth."

The tiger looked at me as if I was crazy, but he gave a partial smile, anyway. Thankfully, he hadn't yet removed my paw, letting me keep it up there on his thigh. My fingers shifted slowly, and for just a moment I glanced at my paw before looking back at him again.

"These dreams," I said at last, answering a question that'd never been asked. I stared at my paw again, face burning with blush and stinging with injuries. "Had them since I was little. Evil visions of fire and ash, and frightening shadows all around, but my Golden Behemoth always appeared, a shining giant come to deliver me from the darkness... I'm always a child in the dreams. I've always guessed they were vague memories of my past..." I trailed off from there, not really needing to finish the rest. Lloyd's rubbing my tail told me he understood.

"Thank you," I said, face ablaze with a crimson hue. I wasn't sure what I was thanking him for exactly, whether it was for saving me from the shadows when I was just a pup, or for everything else after that. Certainly I appreciated him bandaging my wounds (several times), but more so the fact I'd probably be long dead by now, had he not come along when he had.

After a moment, I worked up enough courage to look up at the big fat tiger once more, this time forcing myself to gaze at him. I felt my body wanting to push forward, to lean in and give him a kiss, but I'd learned a harsh lesson the last time I'd tried that. My eyes darted away for a second, paw still on his leg and his still on my tail, considering the circumstances. I yearned to press my lips against his, but his story about his wife and child was still fresh in my mind. Dare I? He hadn't removed my paw, and wasn't backing away, and he had to know from the last time he'd bandaged my tail, it was a very sensitive appendage.

With a heavy sigh, my paw stopped moving and I glanced away. "Lloyd...what're we doing?" I looked back up hopefully.

Again he looked confused by my question, but after a moment I think he got it. He removed his paw, at any rate, which was thoroughly disappointing. I promptly removed mine, too. Annoyingly, I don't think the tiger had an answer for me. Suppose it was a fairly vague question.

"I mean...what the hell's going on here?"

The tiger was clearly unaccustomed to answering questions.

I sighed, blushing now for feeling so stupid. Again. "I really hate you, you know that?"

The tiger lowered his head, but his gaze was constantly upon me.

"God damn..." I said quietly in the harsh, flickering light of the Infirmary."I don't know how to read you, Lloyd. You had a wife, and a kid, and believe me when I say I want Frost dead for what he did to you - and to me, for that matter - but this is the second time we've found ourselves in this...situation. And I don't know what to make of it."

My heart skipped a beat when Lloyd's paw ran over my knuckles and held the back of my webbed fingers. He was looking at me, not quite a smile on his face, but not a frown, either. It was something nondescript, and as his fingers gently brushed over my knuckles and toward my wrist, I blushed heavily and gazed back at him. His old, world-weary eyes appeared half closed, and still he stared at me with that next-to-expressionless look on his face, rubbing the back of my paw and making my heart race heavily behind my ribs. I didn't know what this meant, and considered a thousand times leaning forward, and yet he hadn't given me any sign. Perhaps this paw-holding was the sign, the go-ahead I was practically begging for.

As his fingers travelled over my knuckles once again, I tightened my lips in determination; I was going to do it. This had to be my sign, and if I didn't act quick, the moment would pass quicker than it'd come. My eyes met his and for just a moment I hung there, until my fingers tightened around his massive thigh and I pushed myself forward and up, eyes but slivers as my lips approached his.

Finally my lips parted, and having neither seen nor felt any sign of aborting, I pressed on. I could practically smell Lloyd's maw now, and in less than a heart-pounding second, I felt his soft, old lips brush gently against mine. But more than that, I felt his lips press forward, into mine, where I became instantly elated.

His lips tickled mine relentlessly, sending awful shivers up my spine which seemed to propel me forward. I tilted my head to accommodate my new position and soon, I felt his tongue pressing toward mine. Another shiver up my spine sent out a terribly loud moan from somewhere deep within my throat as my wet, otter tongue pushed out to greet his, where they promptly squashed together and within moments, began their dreadfully exciting shoving match. Though the tiger reeked of sweat and blood, his maw somehow tasted sweet.

The next few moments went by in a haze of warm tongues, tingling lips, and copious amounts of crimson blush. I had no idea what Lloyd was feeling now, but with his paw on my back and holding me there - not that I needed holding - it stood to reason that he was enjoying this about as much as I was. More and more of those little noises and moans came crashing from my throat without control, and though I felt silly for making them, I felt too amazingly happy to care.

I could taste Lloyd's sweet old maw even better now, a full flavour of a lifetime of eating irradiated food and alcohol. It was a good taste, one I could stand to taste again and again for the rest of my life. But for now, I would savour it and take all of this in, which included Lloyd's natural, intoxicating body odour drifting through my nostrils. It was a thick smell, warm and comforting, but with a subtle sharpness to it I could scarcely describe. All I could say was I wanted to bury my nose in his scent and keep it there for a good long while, or at least until I was confident I would never forget it.

By the time our kiss ended, I could hardly recall how it'd even started, nor how much time had passed. But for the first time in a very long time, I felt warm. And happy. Lloyd's paw was still on my back, and though I was looking at him through a delirious haze, I think he was smiling. My paw rubbed gently at his thigh, thoughts beginning to quickly move further away from kissing and more into private territory, made all the more clear by the swelling in my sheath. My lips were still tingling from where his had been, and I managed to preserve it by pressing them tightly together, intensifying the feeling for just a second. My heart was pounding and my face aflame as my paw trickled further up Lloyd's leg, but I wasn't yet brave enough to move any further.

"So," I said, barely able to hear my own words as I spat them out, "what does this mean..?" I realized I couldn't make eye contact with Lloyd either, my eyes apparently transfixed by his enormous, bulging sheath, covered in white fur. I didn't mean to stare at it, and didn't even realize it until a long moment after. I blushed harder, if that was even possible, and forced myself to stare elsewhere. My eyes ended up gazing at our paws, which seemed to prompt me to turn mine around so our pads connected, and he just held on tighter.

"Why don't you tell me?" spoke Lloyd at last, smiling at me.

"Uh," I managed in all my wisdom. We're going to have sex?

Lloyd smiled at my feeble, one-syllable response. "I haven't felt anything but anger, pain, and a lust for revenge since Frost took my family from me. And I resigned myself to these feelings years ago, thinking I would never feel anything else again. I suppose I just never let myself. And for half my life, that was true. But then you came along, James, twenty years later you and I were by some miracle reunited. I figured I was just imagining things, that you were just some other Wastelander trying to survive out here, but that little scar on your left cheek told me it was you."

My left paw unwittingly went up to my cheek the moment he said that. It wasn't a huge scar, and when all was said and done it sure as hell wouldn't be my biggest, but it was definitely my oldest. Even my adoptive parents didn't know how I'd gotten it, so I'd always assumed it happened when those Slavers - lead by Frost, apparently - attacked our village. I guess that was true, after all.

"That's probably the only reason you didn't end up dead that day you tried to rob me."

My back still ached from that day, though luckily I had dozens of other wounds to distract from it. Lloyd gave my back a gentle rub anyway, which made a small smile creep onto my face. "So, I guess... Well you can't be gay, I guess."

Lloyd shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. "Half, I suppose. It hasn't ever meant much, though throughout my life I had met some males I was attracted to, but since I'd always had my wife I hadn't given those other temptations much thought. The other twenty years of my life I hadn't felt much of anything. That is, until you and I met again."

I blushed heavily, though I wasn't sure it'd ever faded enough for me to blush more so, but certainly my face felt warmer. "So then what was with all the mixed messages you were sending me, huh? Fuck, Lloyd, you have no idea how damn frustrating that was."

The tiger looked a little ashamed, which wasn't my intention. Now I felt bad, too. "I was...confused. It had been so long since I'd been intimate with another, and you... Well, I remembered saving you as a pup, James. All of those feelings, they came to me amongst the hatred and the rage, and the fact I still saw you as a pup. It took a while to start seeing you as the adult you've become, and even then I didn't know what I was supposed to make of these new feelings. I had to be sure what I felt was real. I never meant to cause you any pain."

"Except for when you beat me with that metal club."

Lloyd's face now reddened a bit. "If you tried to rob me now, I'd probably still do the same."

I laughed quietly, though it hurt to do so. "You have nothing left to rob."

"Aye," he responded, smiling in return and rubbing my paw again. He made my heart thump quickly, except now instead of just rubbing my paw, I felt his other hold me a little more firmly around my back and begin to pull, and without hesitation I followed his gestures.

In just a moment I was up on my knees in front of the kneeling tiger and shuffling forward, paws now on both his shoulders as he pulled me in. Now both of his big strong paws were on my back, and for the time being he held me on his lap in front of him, fingers twitching slightly as if to scratch me. I groaned slightly and arched my back as his claws bit into my skin, scraping soothingly through my unburned fur. My own paws simply held onto his powerful shoulders, my small body stretching and writhing, made all the worse when his paws both trailed down to my tail.

The instant his claws ran through the fur at the base of my tail, and down a little more, I held onto him tighter than I meant to and moaned terribly. Already my shaft was poking out of my sheath, but his damned paws just made it surge outward even further, and I think even a bit of cum came squirting out, or precum I suppose - it had been over ten years since I last had sex, so many of these sensations felt outrageously good. As his claws raked back up my back, then down to my tail again, my hips seemed to grind forward and I cried out sharply. I think he began to realize just how much I liked my tail being rubbed, since after the third time up my back, his paws stayed down at my tail, caressing as much he could without touching the bandages. But it was enough to drive me wild, and unlike before, I wasn't afraid to let him see my erection. Or feel it.

As his claws carefully massaged my over-sensitive tail, I pushed my hips forward enough so my reddish shaft, now over half exposed to the recycled air of the vault, pressed into his big fat stomach, which was surprisingly firm. My eyes were closed as his paws felt up my poor tail, and my throat and maw were filled with an endless supply of moans, groans, and cries, each one punctuated by either a strong shudder or my otter-meat grinding into Lloyd's furry body.

"Aah, Lloyd," I somehow managed to say, which sounded more like a sharp moan than actual words. His claws were torturous against my tail, sending brutal shivers up my spine and a painful throbbing in my shaft, and it seemed I wasn't able to sit still. Instead my thin body twisted and squirmed much more sexually than I meant to, but damn did it feel great. It'd been way too long since I was last able to express myself like this. It was liberating in some way, being able to express myself so loudly without fear of attracting enemies. But for as good as all of this felt - I was savouring every second of it, believe me - my body trembled and ached and begged for more.

My arms then clung around Lloyd's thick, muscular neck and my body pressed completely into Lloyd's as his paws - no more claws, for now - just massaged my tail, more so around the base. I continued to cry out, face dug into his sweaty, smelly neck, my sounds muffled by his fur. My shaft delighted at the touch of his stomach, grinding constantly through his fur and bringing it to the edge of climax, though I knew I would never achieve a full orgasm this way. At least, I hoped not. Either way, I was in total ecstasy, so much so my fingers and toes began to go numb, and all I could feel was the intense pleasure gripping my hard cock and the powerful tingling running up my spine from my tail. I felt a little bad for smearing so much precum into Lloyd's fur, but he certainly didn't seem to mind. Plus it was his own damn fault.

At some point, though, after a time, my head managed to prick up and I moaned throatily into Lloyd's ear, then bit it lustfully. He growled slightly, but I just chuckled with the flesh still between my teeth. My heart was pounding madly and my shaft throbbing without control. It wanted either sweet, painful release, or to become so much more aroused. Finally I let go of Lloyd's ear and with a smirk I rasped lustily, "Take me now."

That seemed to surprise Lloyd, and to be honest, in retrospect, it surprised me a little, too. I was never known as particularly sexual, nor one to beg for it. In fact, most times I'd proposed it to someone, I ended up with a black eye. But in that moment, I was somebody else. Someone I was too little and too young and too scared to be back when it'd first happened, but I was damn ready now to explore every inch of my sexuality.

Lloyd stopped rubbing my tail a second after I spoke, and for now just froze. For a moment I thought I'd turned him off somehow, but soon his paws moved back up toward my back and he pushed himself forward, myself with him. Very gently he placed me down on my back, and while on his knees his massive body just towered over me. When I glanced up past my chest, his sheath was right there in my line of sight, white-furred balls dangling heavily above my hips. He was poking out, too, just a couple inches, but those couple inches had me sweating and nervous.

I'd heard feline cocks had these nasty little barbs on the end, but I'd never really put much stock into it, especially since at that time, I wasn't getting any. Wasn't even close. I often wondered if it was true, though, every time I saw a cat I was at least somewhat attracted to, though strangely I hadn't found myself wondering that over Lloyd. But either way, I saw just a couple feet from my face, in a bright, blazing red, those rumours were completely true.

I had no idea what that monstrosity was going to feel like, nor how big it truly was, but instantly I began to have horrid images of blood spewing from my poor tailhole as those nasty little things shred my insides. But I'd never heard of that happening before, though I had heard it can oft times be quite painful. I'd suffered through more than enough pain in the past few days, enough to last a lifetime, so I really didn't enjoy the thought of suffering through even more when I was supposed to be feeling good.

And yet none of these thoughts seemed to stop me from eyeing that spiny piece of meat lustfully. My right paw was the first to grab hold, and I could feel immediately there was much more to be had behind his fat, furry sheath. That made my own shaft throb painfully once, then again as my paw moved downward, pushing back his fleshy sheath and exposing more of his cock than I realized he even had. Suddenly that couple inches of fleshy barbs didn't seem so bad when I uncovered at least six or seven or eight more inches of thick tiger-meat (or so it felt), slimy and smelly and heavy with precum.

On my back still, I stroked that monster between his legs, which seemed pleasurable enough for the tiger, but my own cock urged me on further. With a bit of pain, I leaned up on my elbows and shakily sat up, only to get onto my knees a moment later and bend forward, paw never leaving the warmth of his shaft. On my paws and knees - or just one paw, rather - I sniffed his tiger-meat and glanced up nervously. Lloyd was staring at me, telling me with his eyes he approved of what I was doing, and his powerful, gentle paw on the back of my head told me to continue. I took a deep breath through my nose and stuck out my tongue, slowly moving my maw forward until at last it was filled with that spiny head.

A salty, musky taste immediately danced upon my tongue, and for now I kept his head just where it was. I scraped my tongue along the barbs , exploring the intimidating shaft-head carefully. With my lips tight around the hot flesh, I pulled out, and though the spines pricked and scraped at my lips, which made them tingle, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I licked at them again, this time with the shaft outside my maw, getting the same sensation as before. It was a relief, to say the least, and after a while longer, became much more enjoyable. I took more of that great shaft into my maw, and more as I bobbed my head. It hadn't occurred to me until I was swallowing about half of it, but what turned into simple exploration had quickly become a full-on blow job, which apparently I was quite good at, if Lloyd's deep moans were any indication, anyway.

Accepting that fact easily, my paw gripped his big, thick shaft happily and I closed my eyes and relaxed, trying to swallow more of that eight-to-ten-inch monstrosity - I was only guessing at the size by this point. Wary not to scrape him with my teeth, my throat loosened and more and more of his shaft pushed into my throat. After a while those barbs began to get to me, and I feared I'd have a sore throat after this. But regardless, I continued happily, and Lloyd let me know from time to time how well I was doing with either a pleasured moan or by urging me on with his paw on my head.

I had no idea how much of his shaft I was taking now, but it felt like a lot. I was undeterred, though, and even a little eager to try to get the whole thing, though that seemed impossible. I gagged and choked a bit as the pleasured tiger pushed me a bit too far, but I managed to relax myself and get back into a steady rhythm with my paw and my mouth. The tiger moaned sharply and as he pushed my head in further, I was prepared and let him do it, choking only slightly on the thick piece of meat as it slid more easily into my throat. On the side of my paw I could feel a bit of fur or flesh or something pushing into it, which made me think I had only an inch or two to go before I had the whole thing in my maw, which excited me greatly. It was an achievement, I'd say, considering its size.

Within moments my head was back out again, and as the tiger growled throatily he pushed me back in, and again I was ready for it. He seemed to want to control the speed with which I sucked his cock, which under other circumstances would annoy me, but right now I was at his command. Without much choice, I took nearly the whole shaft again, feeling more of his flesh against my paw and gagging a little less. I pulled out again and Lloyd pushed me back, his paw gripping more tightly now, and soon there wasn't enough room for my paw on his shaft when swallowing. Much more quickly the tiger made me bob my head, and I had to struggle with taking it all without coughing or choking, but after another moment I got used to it and was blowing him quite proficiently. Both my paws were on the mattresses now as I let Lloyd direct me, pleasured by both his shaft in my mouth as his deep cries.

Faster and faster I bobbed my head, now feeling his sheath against my lips as I pushed inward, and yet I felt like there was still a bit more shaft hidden. Fearful, I realized quickly I had no choice in the matter and so let the tiger do what he would with me, trying my best to accommodate such a seemingly unearthly cock.

"Ooooh," cried Lloyd, a noise I never thought I'd hear from him as he forced my head back and forth taking more and more of his shaft. This went on for quite a while, each push a bigger struggle and yet somehow I managed. Tears had formed in my eyes as the barbs scraped at my throat, but I endured, and more happily than I care to admit. I had never really given a blowjob before, at least not a successful one, but apparently ten years of no sexual activity did wonders for my abilities.

The tiger cursed as he forced my head into his hips, myself only giving out muffled cries and gurgled gags, until at last Lloyd forced me forward with more strength than before and moaned loudly. But instead of letting me breathe a bit, he kept my head down so I could smell his sweat wafting up from his hot, moist balls. Lloyd cursed again as he held me there, rubbing the back of my head soothingly as his breathing subsided. I choked and gagged for a moment, but the tiger wouldn't let me back, so I did my best to relax for him. It took a moment, but I was able to, tasting his salty tiger-meat relentlessly. For a second I thought he'd climaxed, but I'd felt nothing splashing down my throat or anything coating my abused tongue. Instead he just held me there while I tried my best not to choke some more. At last, though, he loosened his grip on me, and slowly I pulled out.

A long, thick string of spit dangled between the end of his cock and my tongue, and only then did I realize my tongue was coated in a thick layer of precum. I glanced at his red, thick shaft, and it was throbbing as terribly as ever. I finally closed my maw, getting a good taste of his pre, and glanced up, curious.

"You almost," he said, breathing heavily, "made me climax." The tiger laughed.

"Wasn't that the point?" I asked, feeling just how sore my throat was now. It stung, but it was nothing compared to my burns. It would probably be fine in a few hours. For now, my paw held onto the thick monster between his legs , stroking it idly. My eyes were constantly upon his.

Lloyd shook his head. "In most cases, I suppose." he told me. "But for you I have something else in mind."

That made me nervous, though I couldn't imagine it'd be anything worse.

"You wanted me to take you," he said throatily, and instantly I knew what he meant. The tiger, cock throbbing between those powerful legs of his, urged me onto my back. Though it hurt to do so, I did it quickly and with little complaint, until I was staring up at his fat, powerful body with his deadly shaft constantly in my peripheries. My heart was racing and my stomach in knots, knowing this was going to hurt but wanting it bad. My own shaft twitched and squeezed some precum at the thought of spreading my legs for the old tiger, despite my apprehension.

A moment later, after a bit of a stare-down with Lloyd, my poor legs soon spread apart and my forepaws curled inward toward my chest. My body ached for his cock, though it looked especially dangerous with those fleshy barbs. He moved closer to me, paws slamming into the mattresses below on either side of my ribs, ready to get things started. I could practically feel my tailhole ripping apart before he'd even started, but we'd gone way too far for me to back out now. Not that I wanted to. For now my eyes just bounced from his to his throbbing tiger-meat, which dangled above my own modest shaft and dripping precum all over my belly and hips. His breathing was hard, almost a growl, like he was sizing me up to eat, which didn't settle my stomach much. What was most painful of all, though, was the intense throbbing of my own shaft, aching terribly for some sort of release.

Soon, Lloyd hooked his left arm around my right leg, the one with burns furthest from my knee - up on my thigh - lifted it and slowly moved that brutal weapon he called a penis toward my poor, inexperienced little tailhole. It was hot, and about as desperate for more as mine was, but the tiger was apparently in no hurry to get things started, as if he enjoyed seeing me in such wretched, sexual agony.

"Just don't fucking break me," I gasped as he pushed forward a bit.

Lloyd smiled and nodded. "I'll go easy on you," he said. I was trying to imagine what sort of lover he was to his wife all those years ago. All those years ago, when he was twenty years younger and no doubt much more virile. I suppose this wasn't the most appropriate time to be thinking such things, but in our current situation, it was hard to picture. He had done it, though, and I was willing to bet it was one of his many attractive qualities.

With my leg lifted, and hips turned a bit as a result, my tailhole was up high enough for him to more easily plunge forward, and as promised, it was very easy-going at first. "Just tell me if it becomes too much, or if you want me to stop," the tiger said chivalrously. His fucking shaft was somewhere between eight and ten inches long, or so I thought, and at its thickest the size of my wrist - he'd just poked his head in and I already knew it would be too much. But I was a brave otter, if nothing else, and save that, hornier than I'd ever admit.

He was already inside my body and slowly pushing forward, which drove me crazy both the physical sensation and the emotional high. My tailhole, of course, stretched quickly, feeling like it was about to tear before he'd even gotten half inside. I cried out mostly in pain, but my head was swimming just from the fact he was inside me. I'd wanted him so bad, and at long last I had him, and far more than I'd ever expected to. A kiss would have been enough, but I got that and far more, with horribly painful results.

"Ah, fuck!" I moaned, my left paw gripping around Lloyd's enormous upper arm, squeezing his flexing triceps. The pain ripped through my body as he pushed forward, tears forming in my eyes again as it intensified and remained constant - before it was coming in waves as he pushed inward, but now I feared my poor little hole was trying to accommodate more than it was ever meant to. But still he persisted, and despite my claws digging into his muscular arm, I didn't yet yield. I was as determined as he was to take it all, and figured if I could get that much into my mouth and throat, I should have no problems getting it into my rear-end, though I wasn't sure how logical that really was.

"You all right?" asked the concerned tiger, though I was certain he didn't want to pull out any more than I did. But it was sweet of him to ask.

I nodded shakily, still holding his arm. Sweat was beading along my back and on my forehead, and my breathing was faint and erratic. I had to get through the pain, I knew, but with every damnable inch it only seemed to get worse. How fucking thick is he? Although I think he'd finally pushed through halfway, it felt like he'd already shoved in a couple feet, with at least another yard left to go. I growled and groaned, but found some solace in the powerful muscles flexing beneath my paws - my cock twitched every time his muscles did, which helped take my mind off the pain. But it was always there, muscles flexing or not, unrelenting and unbelievably strong. I was bleeding for sure, either inside or out, it was difficult to tell.

Tears finally broke through their little barriers in my eyes and began streaming down my face, which prompted a long ululation of hard moans and rough growls, sounds I wasn't sure I'd ever made before. Everything about this moment was immensely pleasurable, and yet physically it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. With no apparent end in sight, I was starting to crumble yet I tried to remain strong. Just a little further, I had to tell myself, and yet a little further just made things worse. I'd seen his shaft, and knew it wasn't much thicker than my wrist, and yet every passing second made it feel as if it was as thick as it was long. At least Lloyd was enjoying himself, though, accenting every inch with a satisfied sigh.

"Uugh!" I cried, finally forcing my eyes open. "Enough, Lloyd, for fuck's sake. I can't fucking take anymore..." I pained me more than his cock did to say it, but any more and I felt I wouldn't be able to walk again. The pain ripped through my hole and spread all up my spine and down my tail, like someone had shoved their hands in and forced themselves inside. I had no idea Lloyd's shaft would be so painful, and the thought of him continuing on would have had me in tears had I not been so already.

"Hey," said the tiger softly. He leaned his head down close to mine and gave my scarred cheek a gentle lick. My heart skipped a beat and my eyes shot open, and he just smiled at me. "I'm in," he said. "Every bit of me."

My relief was palpable, to say the least, but more than that my face burned a million shades of red. Every bit of me. Though it hurt like mad, that didn't seem to matter anymore. He'd done it. His tigerhood was inside my poor little body, all the way, something I'd foolishly begun to doubt. A warm smile crept onto my face as my paw swam to the back of his neck. Without saying a word, I pulled the tiger in and planted my lips firmly against mine, opening my maw the instant they touched, and felt him do the same.

Mixed with the terrible pain in my rear, his sweet tongue slid against mine and I just pushed back, moaning quietly as we made out softly. Our lips and tongues glided and slithered together harmoniously, and though I wasn't in a particularly good position to squirm, I did anyway. That mostly took form of my rear-end moving about on Lloyd's ample shaft, digging the thing in the tiniest bit further, or perhaps just corkscrewing it around. Either way, it let me feel every fucking inch of that hot, thick meat pulsating inside my body, grinding and poking against everything it touched. I moaned again while we kissed, however awkward that was, pushing my tongue extra hard against his, which met equal resistance. It wasn't until our lips parted and we began to nuzzle that I realized my belly was completely covered in something wet and gooey, with a strong musk only an otter can produce - his inches-thick cock (or perhaps the kiss) had caused amazing amounts of precum to shoot up onto my belly, not quite coating it but giving it a generous serving.

"You ready to continue..?" Lloyd asked somewhat pensively. With my emotions so high and my tailhole in such pain, I could understand his apprehension.

I bit my lip. "Yeah," I said with less certainty than I meant to, but it was way too late to go back now.

A moment later Lloyd repositioned himself and began to pull out, which I felt immediately. Of course it hurt, though not so much as when he was going in, but those little barbs scraped viciously at my insides as he moved, as if to remind me of his position in my body. I let out a hard moan as my burning tailhole got some relief, but within his shaft was most definitely moving, emphasized by the barbs but not as terribly painful as I'd imagined they would be. They weren't particularly pleasurable, either, but made for a very fun, very exciting sensation difficult to describe. I felt them, without a doubt, tracing an obvious path through my body, scraping along and adding to what was already an intense and overwhelming set of sensations.

"Fuck me," I growled, more as a complaint than to urge the tiger on, which thankfully he got. He continued slowly until I felt those fleshy little barbs poke at my red, flaming-hot tailhole, threatening to rip out but he remained there.

"A bit faster now," rasped Lloyd. I think he was finding it hard not to just plough right through me, so I had to admire his gentleness and self-control.

I nodded and gave his muscular arm a squeeze. What I really wanted to do was run my paws all over his massive body, even his big fat stomach, but I was hardly in the best position to do so. So instead my left arm coiled around his right as best it could, my right arm more or less useless at my side because of my corresponding leg being pushed up so far. It was fine, though, because I very much enjoyed being able to look at Lloyd while he fucked me, despite having my eyes closed half the time.

His maw was constantly agape, though, from what I did see, and his dark jowls hung from his mouth on either side to show his age. A few times his tongue was even dangling out, and a thick slaver was building up and often dripped onto my chest and neck, but I didn't mind. He was a tired old tiger, doing his best to pleasure me (and be pleasured), despite the obvious strain on his body. But as he hilted me for the second time, much faster than the first time and thankfully less painful, I happily cheered him on with a squeeze of his arm, by grinding my rear into him, and of course with the rich sound of my moaning and crying. His painfully thick cock was back inside me, filling my bowels completely (not actually completely, but I felt like I'd just eaten twelve tins of Cram), and making me growl more than groan. I was breathing heavily by the time he was in again, trembling a bit, and so was he, but when I rubbed his strong arm I let him know I was ready.

Lloyd opened his eyes and glanced at me, closed his mouth for a second to nod, then began to pull out again. This time he moved even faster than before, and didn't pause much before plunging back in. I cried out in pain as he shoved back in, leg twitching a bit as he held it up, and my tail, but he didn't stop or slow down. The instant I felt his cock prod my insides, his little barbs scraped outward once more, just barely popping out before going back, making me cry out again. This wasn't feeling much better, though when I thought upon his initial entry, the pain had subdued. It was more a constant throbbing now in my tailhole, duller but still very much alive.

With another shout, I realized he'd already pumped his shaft a few more times inside me, and after another sharp moan and a twist of my body, I realized I'd lost count. Lloyd was growling heavily now, grunting as he pushed in as if to emphasize every thrust. And I just moaned back in louder, higher-pitched cries that sounded more pathetic than anything. But like his slaver soaking into my bandages and dampening my neck and shoulder, I didn't care for the noises I made. It felt kind of good, in fact, since no one was around and there was no danger. Usually you had to be quiet in the Wasteland at all hours, especially at night, but down here in the safety of the Vault, I could be as noisy as I wanted.

That thought, along with Lloyd's extra-hard thrust, made me cry out even louder, little claws pressing into Lloyd's arm but he showed no signs of pain (unlike myself). In fact, his old face showed more signs of pleasure, though I got the feeling he'd look the exact same had he just run a couple miles, too.

"Aah!" I cried sharply, back suddenly arching as more precum oozed from my shaft, joining the rest pooling inside my navel and dripping down my sides. Lloyd was now pushing into me very fast and very hard, no longer pausing at all for anything, which made my tailhole feel alight with a bit of pain but I was starting to recognize the pleasure now. His cock and its barbs massaged my insides, constantly pounding and pushing against my prostate, which filled my own shaft with a consistent hum of pleasure and every so often making me cum just a little. I moaned some more, adding to Lloyd's huffing, puffing, grunting and growling. My small body twisted and squirmed and grinded into his hips every time he pushed forward, head thrown back in ecstasy. The pain was still very much alive, but it was subdued greatly by intense stroking of his monstrous cock.

It made me so happy to hear Lloyd making about as much noise as I was; clearly he was enjoying himself as well, perhaps even more than I was. His growls were deep and throaty, and would be frightening under other circumstances, his big teeth sharp, brown, and constantly near my face. Like myself, every so often he'd let out something different, usually a sharp snarl, but sometimes a couple moans would slip out, too, which made my heart leap.

My heart was beating rapidly already, though, and became elated each time the tiger showed how he was feeling with his loud noises. I would have laughed had I not been so rapt by pleasure and pain, the former much more prevalent now. But just when things seemed to be going so well, Lloyd very suddenly pulled his cock out, which I knew because those barbs were especially painful ripping through my tailhole.

"Wha..?" I suddenly said, eyes wide open. Is he done already? But as quickly as he'd pulled out, I was turned quickly, yet carefully, onto my stomach. Before I could object or even move, I felt his enormous paws on my hips and he raised me onto my knees, my paws splayed in front of me, and he lifted my tail and plunged back in. I cried out again as he penetrated my poor abused hole a second time, finding it much more pleasant this time around. Again the pointed end of his spiny shaft poked my tummy from the inside, or so it felt, and within moments he was fucking me with incredible power and speed.

This new position he apparently wanted me in did make it easier for me to push my hips back into his, which I did with a crane of my head and a fervent moan, and was less strenuous on my back. Grateful for this new position, I writhed and squirmed in the most sexual way I knew how, grinding back into him with a hearty groan and obvious lust. Unfortunately I had nothing to hold onto and nothing to look at now, but as the tiger pounded my poor body with even more force than before, my tailhole aflame, I didn't seem to mind so much.

Continuously I heard - and felt - my precum hitting the mattress with a quiet splat, which again made me cry out lustily. Nothing I had ever done in my life had ever felt quite like this, and I wasn't sure anything would ever top it. My cock hadn't even climaxed yet, though it felt as if it was on the brink of doing so since Lloyd had built up speed.

He was pounding me now in a very steady rhythm, a rhythm I was so in tune with as I pushed back and moaned along with him, filling the Infirmary with amazing sexual harmonies. The metallic chamber smelled far less dusty now, and instead filled with the intoxicating scent of two sweaty males and their musky sex. My thick precum wafted from the floor and my belly, filling my nostrils almost as much as Lloyd's sweaty fur and his well-lubed shaft. His hot breath joined in the mix from his heavy panting, and no doubt mine did, too, as well as the smell of his thick warm slaver apparently pouring onto my lower back now. The air was thick with lust and sex and males, a smell that was amazingly rich and hot and smooth.

Lloyd's paw clung around my tail as he slung it over his shoulder, while his other paw held me in position at my tail's base. As he thrust forward with incredible power, pulling me back, I realized his paws were gripping and un-gripping my tail, as well as digging into the fur and massaging ardently. This made me cry out all the louder, twisting my head next to my paws and only then did I realize with my heavy breathing, I, too, was drooling all over the place, though luckily not on anyone. More streams of precum poured from my shaft as I cried, twisting and moaning and writhing beneath the tiger's power. With all of this, I wouldn't be surprised if I climaxed before he did.

But it seemed I'd spoken to soon, as Lloyd's thrusts became a harder rhythm, every thrust more powerful but not as smooth in their movements. I bucked back just as hard as he pushed forward, and heard his breathing become sharper and faster. He gripped my tail amazingly tight and began with a very long set of deep, throaty growls, until one, two, three extremely hard thrusts nearly ripped me in two, causing me to moan excruciatingly. But after the third thrust, he gave one final one, even harder than before, and roared as he is claws dug into my tail. With his loud, ear-piercing roar I cried out as well, and a second after I felt an intense heat pour into my bowels and my nostrils filled with the distinct, sour stench of Lloyd's seed.

He was breathing very heavily as he held me there, still giving little thrusts as his hot, heavy balls emptied into my body and made me feel warm and full. I imagined this was what eating a hot meal was like. At last he stopped, breathing heavily and drooling even more onto my back, and I guessed his tongue was dangling in front of his chin. I moaned again and shuddered, feeling the tiger's thick, warm seed mulling around inside me, planted deep within my body. Am I yours now? My face was burning with blush, about as much as my tailhole burned from abuse.

Moments later Lloyd let go of my tail and flopped his paws on my hips, running them slowly down my legs. Neither of us spoke, but a second later I had to gasp when I felt his fingertips graze my rock-hard shaft, thick with precum. In a second he gripped my shaft, much to my delight, and stroked it several times, just to hear me moan. His cock was still buried inside me, and I had to tighten my tailhole just to remind myself how thick he was. When I squirmed, I moaned again, feeling that rock-hard tiger-meat still grinding against my prostate, and I think Lloyd knew it.

I moaned softly and muttered Lloyd's name as he stroked me, paw on my tail again. He stroked both now, one paw brushing through the fur of my tail's base, the other dutifully flogging my pride. I squirmed beneath the behemoth of a tiger, pleasure coursing through my cock, my balls, and even up into my stomach. My little body wiggled under his, and soon he was stroking me in a gentle rhythm, producing a bit more precum but more just making me groan.

Not surprisingly, since my shaft had become so sensitive, within a minute or so I was making almost as much noise as before, filled with amazing pleasure. I cried out and squirmed, but before long I gasped, bucked backward, and screamed as my cock and balls punched my body with the most intense, most painful orgasm I'd ever had. The powerful, violent rapture ripped through my body for at least thirty seconds, myself moaning uncontrollably as I shuddered and bucked. My shaft throbbed terribly as it spewed hot, smelly otter-seed all over Lloyd's paw and the mattresses, but I was more than satisfied. I moaned and moaned again, even well after my orgasm had subsided, but like Lloyd I remained hard.

Behind me I heard a bit of licking, perhaps Lloyd tasting my cum, then two paws upon my hips again. They were rubbing through my fur gently, and up along my back and even my tail again. I was still breathing heavily, face burning with an amazing hue. My nostrils were still alive with the smell of our sex, and I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep next to this beast of a tiger. But for now we stayed in our positions, myself happy to have the tiger inside me. When at last he did pull out, his shaft was soft enough where the barbs didn't scrape and hurt me, a perfect end to a perfect night.

I rolled a bit painfully onto my back as my slimy, wet cock slid slowly back into my sheath, and Lloyd dropped to his paws and knees above me, gazing into my eyes but for now dangling above me. I lifted my paws up to his strong, sexy chest, then rolled them over his shoulders and around his arms. Smiling, I slid them back up his biceps and over his chest again, then down toward his big, fat belly and raking my claws through his fur. There was a lot of tiger in front of me, but it made me beyond happy knowing every bit of his aged, fat self was now mine. I ran my paws over his soft belly again and for now left them at his sides, gently squeezing him as he lowered himself to give me a kiss.

The kiss was warm, wet, and somewhat messy, but it made me smile and blush all the same, and I was sure a lot of the mess belonged to me, too. We kissed for a long time before we stopped, then the tiger slowly plopped down beside me and draped an arm over me.

I held onto his arm and pushed myself back into his big fat body, comforted by his warmth and his softness. Without a word spoken, I closed my eyes and together Lloyd Thompson and I drifted asleep, happy as any Wastelander could ever hope to be, at least in that single moment.

When I opened my eyes again, drowsy and full of sand, I had to strain for a second to remember where I was, and why there was a brutish tiger holding me captive. I blushed at the memory, then dug my back into his soft belly with minimal pain. I reached up with my right paw - we were both lying on our right sides now - and pulled his giant left arm back over me like they were bed sheets gone astray. This produced a deep grumbling from the tiger, which soothed me somehow and made me smile. But soon that grumbling deepened, and the massive form behind me began to stir, until soon his paw gripped at my own soft belly, however mine was at least four times smaller. At least.

"You're awake," growled Lloyd, who had not yet moved beyond a bit of stirring and his limbs shifting. Apparently he was feeling as lazy as I was. I imagined when his memory kicked in, he'd throw me off and get on with his mission, and like a fool I'd follow along. But for now, we lazed.

I was blushing harder as my memory recalled what exactly we'd done, my sore tailhole an easy reminder. I clenched the muscles several times, but the feeling wouldn't be quenched. It was in a constant state of dull, pained tingling, the muscles strained and yet compared to every other wound, this pain was nothing. It was almost enjoyable, a welcome feeling amongst the host of others. Of course, the dull aching served to remind me how it'd gotten that way, and reminded me that somewhere inside, Lloyd's seed had been planted.

His hot, milky tiger-juice was deep within my body now, and unless it'd dried, I hadn't felt a single drop squeeze out. I wanted every bit of his incredible load inside me, to keep me warm and keep me safe, just as he'd done when I was pup. In my belly I felt a particular warmth, a certain tingling that told me a part of him still remained within, lingering inside my bowels to remind me who'd planted that seed, and who I belonged to now.

Of course I don't mean that in the slaver's sense of "ownership," but without a doubt Lloyd and I were together now. His seed was sown, he'd marked me, and he could have no other. Well, he could, technically, but if he wasn't intent on having me, there was no way he would allow himself to cum so far up my rear, if in it at all.

Naturally, there were people out there who would beg to differ, and I couldn't say I totally disagreed with them. A couple having sex, especially in the Wasteland, rarely meant they were a couple, not necessarily. I mean, rapes happened every day, and even consensual sex was no doubt done to satisfy baser needs. And yet...with Lloyd and I, it was something else. Despite neither of us having had sex for over a decade (Lloyd having gone much longer without than me), there was nothing particularly...carnal about last night. It was rough, yes, it was perhaps even bestial, but neither of us were satisfying the other simply to quench a primal thirst. We both wanted it, and we wanted it bad, myself most of all. We wanted it because there was a connection deeper than base needs.

We were in fucking love.

How did I know? I didn't, I suppose, not really. But as we laid there, holding each other with barely the strength to move our limbs, somewhere deep within Vault 95 and naked as the days we were born, somehow I just, well...knew. There was an unspoken conversation happening between us, though we were both motionless, words being said through the body heat we shared and our fur gently scraping together, though Lloyd's fur mostly scraped through cloth bandages. The conversation spoke of a deep fondness for one another, of staying warm together and protecting each other. As our breath mingled above our heads, and our odours mixed together, we silently spoke of union and permanent bonds. Neither of us spoke still, and barely even moved, and yet this conversation screamed between us, likely without either of us realizing it, not at the time. But somehow, someway...we knew. We felt it, felt the connection and felt the bonds.

The tiger gave me a big, yet gentle squeeze before finally sitting up, rubbing my back and my tail slightly before he stood. I just watched him from my place upon the mattress, perfectly content to lie there with my aching tailhole and belly full of the tiger's seed. What I wanted more than anything was to raise both paws above my head while my footpaws connected, and just give myself the biggest stretch I could. But the bullet hole in my chest saw a swift end to that. Instead I just stretched my legs a bit, as much as my burns would allow, letting my knees crack softly then let the muscles relax. I tried my right arm above my head, but it just wasn't the same without the other. I sighed quietly then painfully sat up as Lloyd paced slowly from our floor of mattresses, back toward the operating room behind the bloody curtains.

"Where're you going?" I asked in a soft voice, still not venturing to stand.

"We need to find our gear," said the tiger determinedly. He was obviously not still stuck in the soft afterglow of amazing sex as I was.

A cold claw suddenly twisted my gut as I began to think perhaps I'd imagined this connection between us; the tiger seemed quite intent on leaving this place and continuing on, apparently showing no more interest in me than he did in the pile of junked robots. Granted, Vault 95 wasn't the cleanest of Vaults, more especially in this Infirmary, but still... Had I imagined it? My heart sank at the thought, and yet his seed was so warm inside me. I dared not press him, and feared asking. I didn't much like this vulnerability I'd suddenly found myself in, and so determined to get myself up on my own feet.

Through much pain, I did manage to get up, fearing I'd opened some wounds, but upon as close an inspection as I could get, I saw no blood seeping through the white bandages. Slowly I paced toward Lloyd, filled with this new sense of doubt and fear amongst the happiness and pain. I touched him lightly upon his back while he stood by the door, both my paws sweeping outward from the small of his back, and he turned quietly, paws down around my shoulders.

I gave a gentle sigh to the behemoth and rested my head upon his chest, though most of my head rested upon the top of his belly; if we were to stand toward one another flat on our feet, I stood only at eye-level with his nipples. Not a horrible view, in my opinion, but he sure was a big fucking tiger.

Lloyd stared down at me wordlessly. I think he wanted to know what this sudden hug was all about.

I answered him first by nuzzling my face against his soft, white-furred muscular chest. "It was a rough start," I said, somewhat irritated by my foolish vulnerability, "but I really like where we are now."

"In Vault 95..?"

I frowned. Sometimes I wondered if he was intentionally so obtuse. Then I squeezed the tiger's belly, amazed at how he could be so warm and so soft, yet so immensely strong, too. "No, I don't mean here. I mean, like...where we are...emotionally." I looked up hopefully at the tiger, and thanked god he was smiling. He gave me a gentle squeeze in return.

"Since escaping the Red Wasters, I fell into a pit so deep, it seemed I'd never climb out again. I know that sounds a bit dramatic, but it was true. I was consumed by grief and hatred and inconsolable rage, I'd just accepted that that was the way it would have to be. Saving you in Boulder...I suppose that saved me, too, in some respects. Looking into your teary little eyes, I think I saw a bit of my own son. It reminded me of the humanity people have, or can have, and how innocent we all once were. I took a new direction in life, but still remembered what Frost did to me, and held onto that. Anyway...for half my life, though I'd found a new path, I was still all but dead inside. Then when I chanced upon you by Fuselage...I can't explain it. Something stirred inside me. Something dripping from between the cracks of the rage I'd built up. I saw you, knew you, and though you were intent on robbing me...somehow I still saw that sweet little child I'd saved."

I think what he was trying to say was, he agreed with me.

"I never thought, even after twenty years, you and I would meet again. I hadn't given you much thought in all those years, yet I recognized you almost instantly. Made me feel Human again, I think. Though you were pointing a gun at me, you still had a sweet innocence about you I had scarcely seen since that day in Boulder. You awoke some long-dead feelings in me, James Grayson, and though they were confusing... Well, I'm confident now in what I feel." The tiger gave me another squeeze, then kissed me upon my head.

"You don't find it strange, though, after so long..?" It was hard to imagine Lloyd holding me when I was so little, much less him having sex with me years later. But it'd happened, and I had the sore bum to prove it. I was still somewhat reeling from the events, all of it seeming more like a wonderful dream by this point, albeit an extremely vivid dream. Yet I was curious how Lloyd felt in all of this, his perspective vastly different from mine.

But he just shrugged at me. "It had been twenty years of solitude," said the tiger. "I'd all but forgotten about you. I suppose it was weird at first, but I'd only carried you for a few days then, not nearly long enough to grow particularly attached. Having travelled with you now, though, and having seen the adult you've grown into, it was easy to forget just how little you once were. And I could tell you were far from innocent."

"Feh," I spat, frowning. "Nobody's innocent in the Wasteland."

The tiger shrugged again, and I sighed quietly. We stood together for a long moment in the rotting Infirmary, our noses long since acclimated to the horrid smell. He was so warm and comforting, I really didn't want to leave him. But whether he and I were in love or not - and I wasn't sure just how mutual these feelings I had were - the tiger had a mission to complete and now more than ever, I was bound to follow him through it. And so at last he and I separated, myself giving him one final kiss before we left the Infirmary.

Both naked as the day we were born, Lloyd and I stepped into the cleaner-smelling corridor and considered where to go next.

"Where do you think they put our stuff?" I asked. I was of course assuming they'd even kept it. They probably took our weapons, without a doubt, and some of our supplies. But my shirt, for instance, was so ratty, filthy and gross, they probably burned it the moment they peeled it off me. And my pants, too, for that matter. I didn't care so much for my clothes, though, since you could find those just about anywhere. But my guns... Well, my 10mm was easily replaceable. But Lucky, not so much.

Without answering me, Lloyd walked back into the Armoury and looked around. I noticed all sorts of weapons again, and would probably be forced to take some since I doubted mine were still around, being in such poor condition. The tiger seemed to be perusing, too, but was drawn to the door at the opposite side of the entrance, which was tightly sealed. I couldn't imagine what sort of weapons or armour they had behind there, but I was eager to find out. Knowing our luck, though, it was probably just a trap.

So while Lloyd fiddled with the door, busying himself on the dusty old computer screen, I went over to the right side of the Armoury, slowly walking down the aisle and suddenly realizing just how comfortable I was with being naked. Content with that, I noticed more clothes on just a small part of the shelf, but this section was full of boxes of grenades and mines, of several varieties. If I found my pack, I'd have to remember to take a few plasma grenades to burn the flesh off them, though it would probably be smarter to nab a few pulse grenades, too. I'd never been a big user of mines, since they require some amount of forethought, and I rarely stuck around in one place long enough to warrant the use of such fortifications. There were also grenades piled neatly for use in a grenade launcher, though unfortunately I hadn't yet seen any of the launchers. I would have loved one of them, though I imagined I couldn't carry many more than ten grenades at a time, since they felt quite heavy.

As well as the grenades and other explosives. There were small canisters of what I assumed was Flamer fuel, and a couple rockets sticking out of the top of a box, as well as more tidy piles of energy cells and microfusion cells. Not surprisingly, some of the larger weapons weren't on the shelves, which made me all the more excited to get into the other room - if they didn't store them there, then where?

The final aisle, happily, had lots of food and other junk neatly piled and stored in a very orderly fashion. There were nice pyramids of cans, mostly Cram, and two perfect rows of InstaMash. Neither appealed to me, and when I began to think about food, I found myself suddenly craving more of that CocoaMilk, which sadly I'd left in my bag. In a wood box on the bottom shelf was a few packages of Potato Crisps, and beside it some Gumdrops and Bubble Gum. Still uninterested, I grabbed a can of Cram not without knocking some to the floor - I pretended not to notice Lloyd glaring at me - and peeled back the lid with the tiny metal key. Like every other can of Cram, it was just that: Cram. Nothing special. Same irradiated food I'd eaten more times than I cared to think about, probably more cans than was healthy. But I had a hunger in my belly along with the filling warmth of tiger spunk. Hardly satisfied, I placed the empty can on the shelf and looked about some more, seeing mostly junk and tools you could probably use for fixing weapons, or perhaps leaky pipes or machinery down in the vault.

I proceeded back to the second aisle to the left, where I'd just come from, and looked about at the clothes folded and stacked together as perfect as if a robot had done it itself. Nothing jumped out at me, but in the Wasteland, you can hardly be picky about what you look like. Either your clothes protect you, or they don't. Either way, I grabbed what turned out to be an old ratty hoodie, a dull whitish colour, having turned a pale brown from decades of denial. Thankfully it had a zipper, though it looked rusty and broken, so I set it aside for the time being. I rifled through countless pairs of pants, none of which fit properly, and while my last pair didn't fit either, I at least had a belt to help keep them up. I did see a couple belts, which I hopefully wouldn't have to resort to. There were countless shirts and tops that didn't appeal, including a white tank top not unlike Lloyd's old army-green one, though this one would fit me better. I set it aside, too, the cleanest I saw. After a few minutes, I threw aside a couple pairs of thick pants with a camouflage pattern on both, one in green and one desert - I was partial to the desert ones, since it tended to blend in better with my surroundings - as well as a pair of shorts. The shorts were green, too, with nice big pockets on either leg and for whatever reason, a chain hanging over one side of one of the legs. I wasn't sure what use that had, but I figured I'd find something. When I finally left the aisle, needless to say the clothing shelf was an enormous, poorly-folded mess.

All of these clothes were fine, but what I really wanted to look at was the armour I'd briefly glanced at before. I saw all sorts of bits and pieces, not unlike Raider armour, and could possibly scavenge some to go with my regular clothes. There was some cumbersome metal armour on the shelf in the centre aisle, which I would save for last if I didn't see anything else. Some of the leather armour they had looked okay, too, but one of the top parts was way too big for me, as with the bottom, and other pair of leather pants was too small. Irritated, I folded them quickly (and poorly) and jammed them back onto the shelf, pulling out some more and checking it out. The leather was thick, and would probably fit relatively snug against my body, which meant I would boil half to death in the Wasteland. But of course, you would die whole to death if you got shot in the chest without it...usually. Amongst the leather armour was dozens of straps and seemingly random pieces, which I figured I could easily put together to give me at least some protection.

Leaving the leather armour for now, I glanced at a pile of strange thick cloth I hadn't seen before, pulling it off the shelf immediately - whatever was below it had fallen on the floor. The first one I pulled off was a top, short-sleeved and in surprisingly great condition, and olive drab in colour. It was woven with a strange pattern I hadn't seen before, and a material I didn't recognize either by sight nor touch. It was relatively stiff and around three millimetres thick, give or take, and though at first it looked too small, I realized it had a bit of stretch to it.

"Hey, Lloyd," I called, glancing over to the busy, naked tiger. I checked out his bum, then his legs, and before I could locate his balls, he'd already turned around. I blushed and quickly looked up at him. "Uh... What kind of material is this?" I held out the shirt to him.

He leaned forward to look at it, touched a sleeve for a second then let go. "It's combat webbing," he told me. I hadn't heard of that before.

"Can it stop bullets?" I was sorely tempted to try it on, though I was dubious about the fit. Unfortunately, there was even less "combat webbing" than leather armour, and less even still than the metal armour.

"In most cases," he said, going back to his computer screen. "Point-blank, probably not, but it'll protect against most ballistics. Lasers especially. It's the base layer to Combat Armour."

My little ears perked up, and I began to feel excited. Combat Armour was very few and far between in the Wasteland, even amongst guards and army folk. Metal armour was rare enough, due partly because of its enormous weight. "Really?"

Lloyd nodded, though he wasn't looking at me. "It isn't particularly helpful without the armour itself, though I suppose it's better than most material. Better than leather, at any rate."

I glanced back at the shelves, and further toward Lloyd I saw some large plates I hadn't noticed the first time being here. One was quite big, which I assumed was for the chest, and had a couple stacked atop. Beside it were smaller plates and some thick, non-leather straps. Half an entire shelving unit, in fact, seemed dedicated to these so-called plates, and I couldn't begin to imagine how to put them all on. But it was sure exciting, and I wanted to try it on immediately.

"Can I try it on?" I asked, not that I needed permission. I think what I was really asking was, "Is it going to kill me," and, "Will it be easy to take off again?"

"If you think it'll fit," said the tiger, which worried me slightly.

"Will it?" I asked, holding it out again; I held it by the shoulders, so he could see it compared to my body. When I looked at the back of it, I saw a couple loops, one above the other, in several places as if to hold a belt.

Lloyd just gazed at it for a short while, then shrugged. "Probably. If it does, the plates'll probably fit properly, too, since you don't often get one without the other. They come apart for easy storage and quick replacement. There are better armours out there, mind you."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure," I said disinterestedly. As far as I was concerned, unless you were in the Brotherhood of Steel, armour didn't get any better than Combat. Nevertheless, I gazed at the so-called combat webbing, somewhat reluctant to try it on. I think I wanted so badly for it to fit, and to have some real armour for a change, I was scared it might not.

Nevertheless, I flipped the top around and held open the bottom opening, gazing inside. There was a smoother material inside, black and probably made so the actual protective part wouldn't chafe. Nervous, I decided finally to just dive right in, slipping my left arm carefully into the proper sleeve and feeling the material squeeze against my skin as I slipped through. When it was pulled almost up to my chest, glad it hadn't forced my bandages out of place, I then slipped in my right arm - the heavily-bandaged arm - with no incident. After both arms were through the short-sleeved holes, I quickly raised the shirt and pushed my head through, finding it a bit of a struggle to pop my head out, but managed it easily enough. The sleeves only went down so far as to cover only half my upper-arm, but it was certainly good enough for me. Much to my surprise, the firm material seemed almost to hold my bandages in place, the ones around my chest, which would be helpful in healing and for keeping them clean, provided I didn't sweat too much. Thankfully, the combat webbing wasn't pushing into my neck like I suspected it would, being so much smaller than anything I was used to. But instead the collar crept up my neck a bit and fit snug and firm, and when I pulled the bottom down over my smooth belly, the rest, too, hugged comfortably at my body, holding me securely. I definitely felt protected it in, whether it was Sbulletproof or not.

After running my paws down my chest and stomach, surprised a shirt so seemingly small could fit so amazingly well - and tight - I glanced around in hopes there was a bottom, too. I didn't see much on the shelf, but remembered the thing I'd dropped earlier, and sure enough it was the bottom half of my combat webbing. Much like the top, it at first appeared too small, but it stretched easily to accommodate my massive body. I slid my footpaws in, one at a time, then pulled both legs up and with a bit of doing, got it up to my hips and managed to poke my tail through the hole, which luckily stretched enough to accommodate such a thick base, at least compared to normal tails. Hopefully it wouldn't cut off circulation. At last I pulled the rest up around my waist and hid the opening under the bottom of the shirt.

After checking to make sure my tail bandages hadn't shifted - I didn't feel any explicit pain - I flexed my legs by walking in one place for a moment, then moved my arms around. I could feel through my fur and against my skin several lines running through the legs, no doubt the thick-stitched seams to keep the material all together, running from my ankles up around the outside of my calves and along my inner thighs to connect somewhere beneath my balls; a couple more were used to keep my sheath and balls firmly in place, which I greatly appreciated. There were also a couple seams running over either side of my chest from the collar, running down and seeming to outline my soft, smooth abs, as well as a few crawling along my back, closer to my sides, and running along the back of my upper arms, too. All in all, I felt quite secure in this form-fitting suit of armour, though what I really wanted was to put the plates on and be fucking indestructible. For the most part.

"What do you think?" I asked Lloyd, and he glanced over, eyeing me expressionlessly.

"Good," he answered, the most subtle of smiles creeping onto his face. I think he liked it more than he let on, and oddly, it made me feel kind of sexy, too, especially with Lloyd's eyes checking me out. "I've almost got this door open," he said, a rapid change in subjects. I'd almost forgotten he was over there working on it. "Just got a few more characters to decipher. These damned Automatons, to their credit, are much more clever with this sort of thing than I ever was. Don't suppose you know, do you?"

I frowned at his assumption, but had to shrug anyway; I had no idea how to work the computers littering the Wasteland, other than using them for warmth some nights.

"What do you think's in there?" I asked, pacing over when he turned back. I had to glance at the armour plates, but they looked too complicated to put on myself. And yet I was sorely tempted to try, since I wasn't doing a whole hell of a lot else.

Lloyd shook his head. "I can't imagine, but it has to be something worthwhile. Or a trap." I had to smile at that, having thought the same thing. "Why don't you put the rest of your armour on?" he suggested, turning back to me. I noticed his eyes gaze my body up and down again, then that cheeky little smile.

I shrugged. "I guess I could." When he turned back, I gazed warily at the multitude of armour plates, all roughly the same colour as the combat webbing, except a bit darker. I figured the legs wouldn't be too hard to do up, if I could find the proper pieces. I searched around, and discovered quickly they were stored as practically as a robot would store them; the middle shelf held the leg pieces, while to their left were for the hips, front and rear, and on the shelf above was the chest and shoulder armour. On the very top shelf, a few Combat Helmets sat, but I'd worry about those later. For now, I grabbed the long, relatively light, thick plates, which I assumed covered the shins and knees. Fortunately they had straps already pulled through, so it was a matter of just slipping in and firmly tightening the straps, then reinforcing it by doubling them over. That last part Lloyd had to help me figure out, since they felt too loose against my body. But once I got them firmly attached, I moved my legs to make sure they would stay, then eyed the next pieces.

The plates for my hips, I discovered when I pulled it off the shelf, were also attached to the front "crotch plate," as I called it, and the plate that sat above my bum. At the bottom of the hip plates were a couple more of those thick straps, so I managed to slip into them easily enough, guiding my footpaws through as expertly as I could. I easily tightened the top strap to keep all the pieces firm against my body, then the straps around my thighs to keep the hip plates perfectly in place. Again, I paced around to make sure everything was in place, and felt surprisingly comfortable in my new armour.

Next I strapped on two belts with one pack against the small of my back, as well as a couple more on my flanks, and without incident I put them on, though I had to do more twisting than I wanted to so I could strap the belts on firmly enough. The final piece, however, appeared to be the toughest: the chest plate and shoulders. Much like that cheap, padded armour I found in the building in Bone Yard, it was all attached, though there was a dizzying array of straps to somehow work myself into. Determined, I slipped my head through what I assumed was the top, the bigger of the plates resting against my chest while a smaller one hid my upper back and shoulder blades, with the black straps just dangling around me uselessly. The shoulder plates, too, which were attached to the chest plate but had straps along the back, were quite loose, and I began to realize I'd need Lloyd's help for this.

"Hey, Lloyd?" I asked modestly, blushing a bit. His tail looked more fluffy than I ever remembered it, generally a good sign that he was agitated. "Can you help?"

He turned around again, I think getting frustrated at the computer. He was frowning, anyway, hopefully not at me.

"I, uh... I need some help."

Lloyd's face quickly loosened up, and he smiled at me. "Sure thing," he said calmly, then stepped toward me. My eyes glanced down at his sheath, which even while soft looked big. He just grinned at me some more, then turned me around. With very adept paws, I felt him doing something around my lower back, then suddenly some straps tightened, then some more around my ribs and along my upper back, and he gave me a gentle pat on my shoulders. "There you go."

I turned around, amazed at how easily he'd done that. "How do you know so much about this armour?" I asked. "You don't exactly look like you'd fit into it." That last remark was for his comment about my computer knowledge.

Lloyd smiled, then kissed me on the head. I blushed, then he turned around to go back to the computer.

"Well?" I asked, frowning after the kiss wore off.

"I've been around the Wasteland for twice as long as you have, James. You learn stuff like that along the way." I felt like there was something he wasn't telling me, but clearly he was concentrating on the eerie green glow of the dusty computer screen.

"Just type in H-Y-P-E-R-I-O-N," I suggested, walking about as if to test the armour out, flexing my arms and legs in an exaggerated walk. My body felt firm and protected and secure, and was glad for the extra pockets to slip some medical supplies into. I ran my paws down over the chest plate, knocking it a few times with my knuckle and wondered what it was made out of. It was surprisingly light, nothing near as cumbersome as metal armour, but way more protective than leather. Or so it seemed, anyway. Of course there was weight to the armour, but not much, and all the plates fit snugly enough against my body so I didn't feel encumbered by them. The only downside I could see was how much attention my newfound armour would attract, though by the same token it might discourage people from attacking, too.

Just as I stretched my arms over my head, I at last heard the tiger say, "Ah ha!" then the awful grinding noise of metal screeching against metal, the rusty vault door opening.

"So was it Hyperion?" I asked after the door opened.

Lloyd didn't dignify that with a response.

Curious, though, I walked up behind the behemoth feline and peered around him, into a darkened room. He took the first steps in, then flicked on a light just the darkness started to overtake him.

Blinded momentarily, I shielded my eyes and squinted, stepping further into the chamber, which was roughly the same size as the previous room, except this one had a lot more junk. There was far fewer shelves, but each one was packed untidily with dozens of different tools, books, and other scrap metal and junk I could scarcely identify. There were also what appeared to be workbenches with more scrap metal on it, tools thrown carelessly about with bits of wire and gears and metal shards. But what caught my attention most was a strange device as large as a rocket launcher, but it looked like someone had stripped it to its essentials. I imagined this was where Jaime had invented that little shocking device; no doubt this was his personal workshop, where he liked to build things.

I approached the large device slowly, cautious as always, though perhaps a bit more bold now in my new armour. The thing sat on an old wooden workbench, with various tools around it and fewer metal scraps. At first glance, the whole thing looked like a big long half-pipe, but upon closer inspection I saw it had a trigger. Beneath the grip was a small pile of shiny metal shavings, and what looking like deep etchings in the handle, like it'd recently been worked on; perhaps etching the grip was one of the finishing touches. The half-pipe itself, with some tubes, tiny curving pipes and wires and components at the end, was longer than the table, and if I had to guess its total length, I'd say somewhere around four feet. The bottom of the half-pipe had a long smooth metal plate with dozens of half-inch holes it in, presumably to give whatever projectile as little friction as possible without sacrificing guidance. The metal plate only made up the bottom half of the gun's "muzzle", and was held up by two more metal rails on either side, no doubt used for guidance. Beneath the four-foot long railing was a small yellow canister about half the size of a normal fire extinguisher, which had a tiny explosive symbol on it. The canister connected to some exposed components above the trigger, and a stiff metal tube connected to the part on the back, which was still just a mess of wires and other tubes, and smaller mechanisms I couldn't identify. I was curious who'd made this makeshift weapon, and even more so what it was meant to fire.

When I glanced over at Lloyd, he was running his paws along something metallic at the farthest end of the chamber, a small workbench light turned on to his left. I couldn't make out what it was, but he stared at it long and hard, caressing its dull metal surface almost longingly. When I crept forward, he seemed almost awestruck by the metal, like he'd seen it in a dream.

Like the makeshift projectile launcher, or rail gun, it was a device I'd never seen before, but when Lloyd finally took his paw off it, I began to see its function start to form. Though at first it looked like a big pile of scrap metal, or scrapped robot parts, I saw more clearly it was smaller than that, perhaps made to fit a fur. It looked heavy like metal armour, but nowhere near as clumsy and cumbersome, though undoubtedly I would never be able to wear it. Besides, I already had new armour.

"What is it?" I asked, putting a paw on his back.

Lloyd paused before answering. "Power armour," he said, then glanced at me.

"Power armour?" I echoed.

The tiger nodded. "T-51d Power Armour," he said proudly, as if he'd invented it. That didn't really clarify anything. "Except...this suit somehow looks different. I looks like metal, but it's much lighter than I thought it'd be, like someone had stripped all the mechanics from within. And yet... Well, I glanced inside and saw what looked like miniature hydraulic systems, at least in the torso, built in amongst the usual components. Plus it seems whoever worked on this had covered the electronic and mechanical subsystems normally exposed in the back of the armour. I haven't taken a real good look yet, but at first glance, it seems as if the wearer no longer requires a suit of Recon Armour..."

I just stared at the monster tiger, surprised more at what he'd just said than at the armour itself. "Um...what?" I furrowed my brow. "Okay, Lloyd, how the fuck do you know that? There's something you're not telling me, and I wanna know what it is."

Lloyd turned his head and glared at me as if I should have known what he was talking about, like it was plainly obvious.

"Power armour," I began, saying each word carefully as I tried to piece it together. "As far as I know, power armour's only ever worn by the Brotherhood of Steel..." Then my eyes went as wide as saucers. "No. Fucking. Way. Nuh uh." I had to take a step back from the naked tiger, barely able to believe it.

He lowered his head a bit, but didn't look shamed by it. He kept his eyes on me.

"Seriously?"

Lloyd nodded.

"For how long?"

"Roughly eighteen years."

I frowned. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I asked in both surprise and anger, paws curled into fists.

Lloyd shrugged innocently. "It never came up."

I Just scoffed at the tiger and said in a mocking tone, "Never came up..." A second later I squinted my eyes and wrinkled my nose as I tried to work out his timeline. "So...you must've been, what, thirty when you joined them?"

Lloyd nodded. "Twenty-nine, two years after saving you. It took months to pick up Frost's trail again, and when I did I followed him west. For almost two years I chased that slimy monster all across the Wasteland, but lost him again at the city. But that was where I found the Brotherhood."

"What city?" I asked, curious. I was finding it hard to imagine exactly where he was when all this happened.

"Ronto," he responded darkly. He then turned back to the armour, moving pieces around. "It seems whoever redesigned this power armour replaced the metal plates with some sort of poly-laminate composite, a bit like yours... It's so much lighter, and yet if I had to wager, I'd say it could absorb at least two thousand Joules of kinetic energy, compared to usual. Seems to have a silvery surface, too, which probably helps reduce laser and radiation damage by at least tenfold."

"Don't think you can change the subject just like that!" I said, snapping my fingers. "What happened when you chased Frost into Ronto? He go into hiding? Cuz he sure as fuck isn't hiding anymore."

Lloyd sighed, then pushed a few pieces of armour aside. Sticking with the chest piece for now, he opened it up like a door and took a closer look, using a small glass to see the smaller components. He then set to tinkering with the complex innards, apparently ignoring my questions. He simply concentrated on his damned armour, as if he desperately needed to figure out how it works.

"God damn you," I growled, turning back toward the rail gun. I was still fascinated by it. Perhaps it launched any round objects that could fit into it. The only practical use I could imagine was for lobbing hand grenades, or perhaps even mines, though they wouldn't fit into the curved rail very well. Baseballs, maybe? Nevertheless, I looked around for any clues, or god forbid, any sort of blueprints. But of course I just found dozens of scrap metal and tools all useless to me.

"This armour has been fitted with a back-mounted TX-28 MicroFusion Pack," the tiger said suddenly, idly shouting into the armour. "They're incredibly rare to find... Probably built in to power the hydraulic systems."

"I don't give a shit," I shouted back, meandering around the room back toward the door, scouring the tables and desk drawers for anything useful. So far it was all junk, only useful to the mechanically inclined. All I could fix was my guns, and even then I did a piss-poor job of it. I sighed quietly and looked around the next desk, finding several rolls of duct tape, dozens of screwdrivers and wrenches and pliers, as well as a couple buckets filled with small pieces of metal. Bolts lay everywhere on every table, and of course the floor, beside it a few hammers and a rope, plus a few old belts and even a pair of crutches in the corner. There were a couple paint guns on the table closest the door, to the right if you'd just entered. Cans of paint lay toppled, and canisters of unknown substances rolled away when I accidentally kicked them. I was momentarily excited to find a bench's lower shelf full of metal ammo boxes, but was of course let down when I saw the Automatons had been using it to store railroad spikes. But on the next table I found something much more interesting, though I didn't know what they were, at first.

The objects were egg-shaped and green with a faint yellow ring painted on one end, and a broad metal halo on the other with a tiny fan in the middle, same colour as the rest. Curious, I picked one up, noticing a small explosive symbol on the other side and a second symbol every single Wastelander knows very well: the radioactive symbol. With a gasp, I dropped the object onto the table with a loud thunk and took a few steps back, heart racing for just a moment. My heart stopped entirely when the egg nearly rolled off the edge, but I was quick to grab it.

"Fuck," I commented.

"James!" cried Lloyd suddenly, a bit slow on the uptake if you ask me. "Jesus Christ," he continued, peeling himself away from his damned armour and reaching me in two long strides. He quickly, yet carefully, pushed me away from the table and propped the green egg up on its wide fan-containing ring, stabilizing it.

"Those are Mini Nukes," he told me breathlessly.

My mouth suddenly went bone dry.

"Why don't you try finding our gear?" asked the tiger, his paw moving up toward his chest and seeming to grasp at something that wasn't there.

"Why don't you shut your trap?" I asked in response. I felt kind of bad immediately, being so used to snapping at people like that. Lloyd didn't deserve it. Then again, I didn't deserve to be tortured for him, either. "Sorry. Reflex." A feeble excuse, but Lloyd smiled all the same. He then put both big paws on my armoured shoulders and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, which started to redden instantly.

"I guess I could look for our stuff," I finally said with a bashful shrug. I tried to shrug his paws off as well, but they clung on tight.

"Atta boy," smiled Lloyd, finally releasing me and patting my bum. I just frowned, then turned around toward the door.

"How do you know they even kept it?" I asked after the door screeched open. Dust and rust flakes trickled down as a part of the door went upward.

"I don't. But since it's not in the armoury, the only other place I imagine they'd have taken it is in the Overseer's Office. No doubt after that Ghoul turned us over to Jaime, his men brought us straight to him. They probably stripped us there, and if not, at least brought our stuff to his office for him to look through later."

"And if it isn't there?"

Lloyd walked back to his armour, tinkering some more, then paused. "Then I guess we're out of luck."

I sighed quietly, then left. While the Vaults were technological wonders, advanced even in their day, still all the corridors looked exactly the same, which made my search for the Overseer's Office needlessly difficult.

I wandered the damnable Vault aimlessly, barely limping despite my foot, trying desperately not to scratch at the burns on my arms. Thankfully, my new armour covered my worst burns, but that didn't stop them from itching; just stopped me from scratching. But like Lloyd liked to remind me, the itching meant they were healing, and not scratching meant they'd heal faster. I sighed quietly, then forced my paw away from my right arm, which was almost entirely burned. It would be too long before my fur finally grew back, but I was told at least it would grow back, for the most part. Some of the worst burns, unfortunately, would remain furless and numb for the rest of my life, such as on my back and patches on my tail, right leg and arm.

After turning yet another corner, swearing it was the same one I'd passed a half dozen times, I ended up back in the room I'd been tortured in, which immediately set my teeth on edge. I gasped quietly and stepped back from the door, begging it to shut. When it finally did, I began to breathe deeply again, then shuddered and went down the short flight of steps. I took a mental note of where that door was, then wandered off.

At last I came to a wide open room that I felt was more or less the centre of Vault 95, or at the very least, a main hub of sorts. There was a pool table near the centre with a dead Ghoul on it, pool cues all over the place and the balls scattered about. One of the cues was lodged in the Ghoul's chest, but most of the other corpses - at least ten of them - had either been shot or ripped apart. Nevertheless, I strolled past a few bodies and the pool table looking around, hoping to find some ammo or food or something useful, forgetting for a moment their armoury was full of that stuff; old habits die hard.

There were several chairs around and a mess of garbage thrown about, as well as a few tables, half of which were on their sides, and a single desk. After finding nothing in the desk, I gazed around, seeing a few articles of clothing in one corner. Excited, I raced to the modest pile, discovering quickly it was just a bloody blue jumpsuit and a few filthy rags. I cursed, then looked around some more, gazing upward. That was when I realized there was a sort of balcony or catwalk above what I assumed was a recreation room of sorts, and I hoped there were stairs nearby to get to it. The cat talk made a U-shape around the chamber, and on one end of the chamber where the catwalks didn't connect, high up on the wall overlooking the first and second floors was a perfectly round window seeming to gaze down at me, or anyone else who'd once played pool here. I realized quickly, that had to be the Overseer's Office.

I took a quick look around the dark, dusty chamber, trying to get my bearings. I then took off toward the furthest end where a door permanently stuck open led into a short corridor, which thankfully led up some stairs and I came out to a small antechamber with a door across from the stairs. Ignoring the door for now, since entering it would take me away from the round window, I went right toward the railing of the balcony, looking down on the recreation room below. To my right on the wall was the round window, glaring at me. The glass was so old and dusty, I could barely see through it, plus whatever light there was filtering through the dank vault gave a nasty reflection. But I furrowed my brow in determination and took off, passing two doors to my left and going around the catwalk to the other side, where there were more doors I chose to ignore.

I passed through the one that was stuck only halfway open, though to its credit it did try to open more, but just showered me in rust instead. I managed to squeeze through, luckily, the door closest to the round window but facing away from it - if the window was north of me, I was going through a westbound door. I was glad the metal plates of my armour fit as snugly as they did, else I would never have gotten through, and there was no way I was going to take them all off again.

The broken door, as it turned out, led into a filthy, stinky bathroom, which I was eager to exit. I did so promptly, and I imagined since after decades the smells would dissipate, some of the mess in here was relatively new. For all their self-importance and robotic delusions, it seemed the Automatons' Rear Exhaust Ports were quite a bit smellier than their actual robotic counterparts.

Anyway, I left the horrid bathroom behind, though unfortunately some of the stench lingered in my poor nose. Despite that, I rubbed my nose on my left wrist and continued through the corridors, taking no time at all to become terribly lost again. I wandered about, being careful not to take any stairs unless I absolutely had to, now entering almost every door I came across, but cleverly marking them by scratching the rusty frames with my claws. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have abused my little claws like that, but it was the first thing that came to me.

Regardless, it quickly proved handy when I came across Door IV for the second time, then again the third. I was, fortunately, starting to remember where things were, despite all the doors looking exactly the same, though I felt I was wasting way too much time. I went through door after door, down hallway after hallway, passing the same windows and same vents and panels, knowing there was at least one door I hadn't yet come across, and becoming annoyed and hopeless when it was constantly not presenting itself.

I came up to a crossroads of sorts, an intersection in the corridors. To my right led to a cafeteria and kitchen, down a single flight of stairs, to the left the living quarters. I had just come from the maintenance chambers, only half the machines still apparently running. I came upon only a few corpses in my travels, including the bodies of Ghouls. Clearly not much of the fighting prior to my rescue had occurred in this part of the vault, though some blood had been shed. As far as I could tell, I'd explored every inch of the maintenance area, the living quarters, as well as the kitchen, finding no other exit other than this intersection. If I remembered correctly, the corridor in front of me led back to the recreation room, and with a quiet, defeated sigh, I made my way back there.

But before I did, I noticed a quick flicker above me, which instantly made my paw go to my hip, where my gun would have been. I backed up a bit, waiting for it again, my heart jumping when it flashed. Above me, hanging off the ceiling was a small, broken sign, the letters of which had mostly been scraped off with time, but in the brief flicker of light, I saw the word oeseer. The last E in the word had been only half scraped off, but I was certain it once spelled Overseer. I thanked god there was an arrow, pointing toward the living quarters, and I eagerly took off.

I passed by all the bedchambers I'd marked with my claws, excitedly looking about but annoyed I hadn't seen that sign sooner, and more annoyed I'd somehow missed the door to begin with. But I scoured the halls as if this was my first time coming through, gazing as best I could through grimy windows and poking my head through ever door I came across, all of which were marked. Inevitably I found nothing, irritated beyond belief. There was only one place I couldn't explore, and it was through a door completely blocked off with more junk than I could move. I tried and tried and tried some more, but everything was on the other side, impossible to pull through and remove, even harder to push in.

At last I gave up, walking at first hotly through the living quarters, then more sullenly as I came back toward the recreation room. I wandered back toward the Armoury to meet back with Lloyd, yet something odd drew me toward another door before the hallway leading back toward the tiger. It was locked, but with a bit of doing I managed to pry the damned thing open, since it had already been pried open a couple inches. It looked like more maintenance tunnels, the corridors much more different than the usual, and smaller. Pipes ran all over the place, and it felt quite hot, more especially as steam blew out of a worrying crack. But I survived the blast of steam, long enough, anyway, to reach another door, which was just a few metres from a long set of stairs behind me, though the corridor still went perfectly straight.

I banged on the door with the heel of my paw, then pushed on it, then soon tried to pry it open. Determined, I kicked the door then rammed it with my shoulder, surprised at how little it hurt through my armour. Pleased by that, I took a step back and gazed at the door a bit longer. There was two alarming strips of red, diagonal-pointing stripes running down either side of the door, which made me think this was some sort of emergency access, or something of the like. I felt around the walls for a button or something, and made a high-pitched gasp when my finger pressed into something. The door slowly opened, and I was greeted by a soft, warm breeze, a bone-chilling howl, and a wide-open vault door.

"Holy shit," I said aloud, wandering into the door chamber. Bodies lay about lifelessly, many of them Ghouls, but more of them blue-suited Automatons. I stepped over a few corpses then noticed another open door to my left, and wandered in.

This room, like many of the lower maintenance ones, was old, dark, and rusty. A strange red light was pouring through from somewhere beneath the metal grating above me, casting an eerie red grid on the floor. In front of me was another door, which thankfully opened up easily, and I was greeted by yet another small corridor, much like the one I'd just passed through.

"A short cut..?" I asked myself, my words echoing faintly through the hall. I made my way up the stairs, and unlike the last short cut through the vault, this one took a turn, then another, then up some more stairs, but I was glad it only went one way. The final set of stairs, however, was blocked off by what I assumed was a trapdoor of some kind, but the switch to open it was easily found. I pulled down the lever and suddenly the door moved above me, giving me a lovely showering of rust flakes and dust. After rubbing most of it from my fur, the metal door above me was opened, and I emerged beneath a strangely round desk, which was situated behind me. When I turned to look at the desk fully, I realized I was standing before a perfectly round window, gazing out at the vault.

I walked quickly around the desk, heart racing, and peered out, seeing the bloodied pool table below and a whole throng of other corpses. Standing up here, I rolled my paws into fists and rested them against my hips, feeling very...powerful. I felt like I could see the entire Vault from here, hear everything everyone was saying, and know precisely what they were doing. This vault was mine, and its people my responsibility. I knew, of course, it was only myself and Lloyd still here, but it was a strangely incredible feeling gazing out of this round, dusty window.

After a long moment, I finally let my paws dangle back at my sides, remembering what I'd come here for. I walked past a few blank monitors and other machines, a small table with a couple papers and holotapes, and a non-functioning computer. But, most importantly of all, I found a pile of gear and clothes, and I rushed to it quickly.

I pulled up my old shirt and gave it longing gaze, squeezing the grimy old fabric between my paws. I gave the bloody, filthy thing a second glance, then placed it aside. Next I pulled out my old torn pair of desert camo pants, tossing them aside much more carelessly than my top. What I really wanted, though, was my bandana, old, ratty, and frayed. I pushed aside my weapons and my bag, which fortunately were still here, finding the purple cloth beneath everything, stained permanently from years of dirt, radiation and mostly sweat. I lifted it carefully with both paws, surprisingly happy to see every fold and crease and smear of filth exactly where I'd left them, then promptly hugged it. I felt very stupid immediately after, but with a smile I tied it around my neck, letting it dangle somewhat loosely against my armoured chest. Next I thankfully found my second most important piece of clothing: my wood-bead anklet, which was made from my first (and late) lover's necklace and cross. After tying it on with great satisfaction and relief, I finally looked at my weapons and opened my bag. I quickly counted my ammo and looked at my supplies, then pulled out my opened bar of CocoaMilk, smelling the sweet, warm scent immediately. Wasting no time at all, I tore the packaging off and shoved a bigger portion into my maw than was socially acceptable, even for Wasteland standards.

I snapped the bar in half with my teeth, and soon the creamy, sweet snack was melting softly in my mouth and made me moan much louder than I thought food ever could. "Oh, god that's good," I muttered as I shoved some more in, more delicate bites this time. I barely had to chew the soft treat as it melted between my tongue and palate, then shoved the last of it in as I rifled through the rest of my bag.

Confident everything was in there, I swallowed a velvety clump of CocoaMilk, then sucked on my teeth and my tongue to get the rest of the thick, molten bar off, swallowing happily once more. I then picked up my three gun belts - my 10mm pistol, Lucky, and my newest addition, the Plasma pistol - and strapped them on carefully, having to resize Lucky's belt a bit to fit over my armour. My guns hung loosely, yet comfortably, off my hips, and didn't seem to get in the way of the armour plates, which of course had never been an issue before. I then threw my bag around my back and walked around a bit, then looked through Lloyd's things.

His old, dirty top was still there, as well as his bag which I assumed hadn't been gone through. I looked inside, anyway, seeing much the same contents of my bag, minus the ammo. His shorts were lying nearby, too, its seemingly useless chain still attached. All his clothing stank, like mine, except I guiltily took a whiff and enjoyed it. Regardless, I picked up my clothes, his clothes, as well as his bag and his damned nail-filled pipe, then took a final glance about the room before leaving. But as I took my first step below the desk, I noticed a strange glow from the corner of my eye, something dangling off the edge of the desk. Curious, I stepped back in and gently placed down our things.

I reached up and pulled down a smaller chain than the one on his shorts, this one having two faintly glowing tags on the end. There were a few things written on it, such as Paladin Cdr. Lloyd Thompson, which didn't mean a hell of a lot to me. Two faint blue rectangles shone against the lighter metal, which was bordered by a darker metal. I remembered seeing these on Lloyd before, and figured if they'd been placed on the Overseer's desk, or Jaime's former desk, they were probably somehow important. And so I shoved them into one of my left-side pockets and re-gathered all our things, then took off down the corridor.

In much less time than it'd taken me to get there, I rejoined Lloyd in Jaime's workshop behind the Armoury, bursting in excitedly.

"Hey, I found our stuff!" I shouted, dropping it all to the floor. Lloyd's weapon made the most noise as it banged several times against the metal floor.

Lloyd seemed rapt by his work, but he did glance back at me. He seemed to be done with the chest piece for now, and was working on other parts. I noticed, too, some objects had been moved around, including that pail of bolts and screws and scrap metal I'd found earlier.

"Where was it?" he asked disinterestedly.

"The Overseer's Office," I pronounced. "Just like you said."

"Mm," responded the tiger, back at work.

I wandered back over to the large rail gun, examining the rails once more with my paws, running them up and down the enormous weapon. "So what're you working on, anyway?"

"The Power Armour," he responded quickly, then began to weld something. "It's a new kind, I think, nothing like the T-51d. It's similar, perhaps, but better in almost every way."

"What're you doing to it, then?"

Lloyd paused before saying, "Fixing it." I think what he really meant was, "Resizing it."

"Well I think all our stuff is here," I said, leaning back on the table with the rail gun, peering to the other side of the room and looking at nothing in particular. "If they took anything other than this, I have no idea where they put it."

Lloyd finally stopped, set his tiny torch aside and removed his welding mask. He sighed quietly and turned around, glaring suspiciously at our gear; it was mostly his on the floor now, beside my tattered rags. Nevertheless, he bent down and sifted through it, finally pulling up his shorts and slipping into them, much to my disappointment. He did leave his shirt off, though, and rummaged though his bag. When he finished, he glanced up at me with a disappointed look on his face.

"Was that everything?" he asked, paw groping at air by his chest.

"Yup," I told him with a bit of a grin. "That was it." Just as Lloyd's paw gripped tighter at nothing and his face fell into an even sadder frown - I felt a little bad for tricking him like that - I opened my armour's side pocket and pulled out the two glowing tags, dangling them in front of him. "Oh yeah, also this."

Before I could react, Lloyd's eyes widened and he stepped toward me in a couple smooth strides, yanked the chain from my paw and gave me a hug, which made me blush. "Thank you," he said, squeezing me and rubbing my back despite my armour. It kind of made me wish I was naked now, too, but it would be too much effort to have to re-armour myself.

"You're welcome," I smiled, hugging him in return. Guiltily, my paws felt down at his bum, which was amazingly firm. "What are those for, anyway?"

He finally peeled away from me, but stayed close enough for my paws to rest on his hips. Lloyd threw the chain around his neck and held onto the two tags firmly, as if he'd regained a lost body part. "They're holotags," he said, finally letting go. "They're worn by every member of the Brotherhood, so as to identify fallen brothers. They contain all sorts of information about us, but the most important parts are engraved into the metal itself, such as names and ranks."

Paladin Cdr. Lloyd Thompson. "So what was your rank?"

Lloyd smiled as he glanced at his holotags, though I imagined he did still remember. "Paladin Commander," he said proudly.

"Really? Who do you command? How good is that?"

The tiger laughed quietly, and I idly ran my paws up his fat sides. "I command all sorts, most typically other Paladins and Knights. The mission I'm on... These types of missions, the ones other members can't know about, they're usually set aside for Paladin Lords, who typically carry out the Brotherhood's secret missions. But I told them of my history with Frost, and explained why I was the only one who could rightfully go up against the Automatons. I laid out my plans for them, to sway the Elder and his council, and they finally agreed to let me go. They said depending on my success, I may receive a Lord status, and may be called upon to carry out other secret missions."

Most of that went over my head, but I gathered he was a very important figure within his chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. Or so he made it seem, at any rate. I almost felt a certain amount of pride holding onto the monster tiger, knowing he was damn tough, but also knowing a softer side I imagined his brethren would never see. A commander, I said to myself, smiling at the thought.

My paws then trailed down Lloyd's belly, one cupping around his crotch from the outside of his shorts, which made the tiger gasp. He didn't pull away, though. "You are very commanding," I said with a devilish grin, then squeezed. He was partially hard already.

Lloyd blushed slightly, though not nearly as much as I would have been had the positions been reversed.

"Very commanding, with a very commanding cock," I teased. I wasn't the greatest or most clever at dirty talk, but it sure did make him squirm.

"I'm not that...commanding," said Lloyd, face all red. He grabbed my un-bandaged forearm, but didn't force my paw away.

I blushed just thinking about his shaft. "Yeah? Just how commanding are you then?"

The tiger shrugged. "No more than six inches..."

That surprised me, so much so my paw released his crotch. "What? Six inches? No fucking way, you're way bigger than that. At least eight."

Lloyd laughed heartily. "Your shaft has a greater length than mine, James."

I found that incredibly hard to believe. "Wha..? How on earth are you only six inches, tops? It felt like you were fucking ripping me in half and poking my damn stomach!"

Now the tiger was smiling warmly at me, very amused by all this. "If you must know, I'm closer to five-and-a-half inches and much, uh...thicker than most. Feel for yourself." He then thrust my left paw right down his shorts and made me hold onto his hot, sweaty sheath, full of tiger cock and poking out. When I groped thoughtfully at his sheath, I realized he wasn't anywhere near as lengthy as I'd initially thought, though he was very solid and, indeed, very thick. Maybe he wasn't particularly long, but he had some serious girth, still just as intimidating as when he'd had it in my maw.

"Well fuck," I said, not meaning to sound as disappointed as I did.

But Lloyd smiled anyway. "And while we're on the topic, you're just shy of seven inches, with an almost two-inch thick base, though not quite, tapering smoothly to just over a half-inch." The way he said it, he left no room for argument. The annoying thing was, he was exactly right. Or close enough, anyway.

The tiger then pulled my paw out of his pants and leaned forward, kissing me on the cheek to melt my annoyance away. I just smiled at him, then gave him a hug. "So what're you doing with that armour, anyway? You're not...gonna wear it, are you?" I gazed at him suspiciously.

Lloyd shook his head and turned around, going back to work on the armour. "I've got my own armour," he said, "though not like this. I'm just studying it for now, seeing how everything's connected and how it all works. Our brotherhood chapter can use some serious upgrades." He then flipped down his welding mask and shifted a few pieces around, then began again on what I took for the chest plate.

I sighed quietly as he worked, quickly becoming bored. For someone who seemed in such a hurry to get out of the Infirmary, he sure was taking his time. For now, I leaned back against the workbench with the rail gun on it, readjusting my bandana a bit, then my gun belts, then my bag a little. I watched him for a bit, then eventually just settled for staring at the workbench and tables across from me, gazing at the fifteen-or-so mini nukes. Each one was the exact same size, most of them standing on their little fans, balanced perfectly. Too fat to shove into the end of a rocket launcher, and even fatter still to use with a grenade launcher, I had a hard time imagining how they had any practical use. There weren't any sensor modules attached to them, or any wires or electronics set up to turn them into mines. And you couldn't throw mini nukes like you would a hand grenade, unless of course you wanted to vaporize yourself.

Then finally something twigged. "Oh my god!" I shouted, practically leaping to my feet. Just as Lloyd threw back his welding mask in alarm, I spun around quickly on my heels and planted my paws firmly on the edge of the workbench. "This thing launches fucking mini nukes," I said in awe of the device.

"Huh?"

I picked up the rail gun, holding the grip in my right paw and shouldering the rest of it.

"James, stop."

Quickly, I paced to the other side of the room and grabbed a mini nuke with my left paw, placing it into the long, curved rail and let it slide back toward the heavy end with all the components, the end that would launch it.

"See?" I said excitedly. "Jaime invented a mini nuke launcher!" Of course, I was assuming it was Jaime's invention, and his workshop. I then swung the gun around, sweeping the business end past Lloyd, which made him jump.

"Careful!" he cried, almost lunging forward and ripping the nuke from the curved frame. "How can someone so impulsive have survived twenty-two years in the Wasteland?"

I frowned. It was technically only ten, but I feared that wouldn't save me. "By the time you finish up with that stupid armour, another group of Automatons will get here and kill us with their mini nuke launchers."

Lloyd gave me a hard stare, but something in his eyes betrayed him. He knew I was right, and knew, despite his apparently great discovery, we had to get going. And soon. He turned around defiantly and pushed down his welding mask, starting up again. I sighed heavily, but it didn't take long for the tiger to stop. He took off the mask and set it aside, and without looking at me said, "Go find me some rope or something."

Quickly I nodded and set the large weapon aside, heading back to the armoury. I searched for rope, but the closest thing I could find was a few leather belts, which seemed to be in relatively good condition. Without hesitation, I nabbed all of them and presented them to Lloyd.

Now with his shirt on, Lloyd examined the belts carefully. "That'll do," he said, taking them from me. Adeptly, the tiger latched the leather belts together into one big belt, then proceeded to string the various pieces of armour onto the belts like keys on a keyring. He then dangled them all in front of himself as if to see how heavy it was, and when he was satisfied he slung the belts around his shoulder so it ran diagonally across his chest, latching it in front of his chest and carrying the armour like a bag.

Next the tiger threw his own bag over his shoulder as well as his makeshift holster for his pipe-club, then turned to me. "You ready?" he asked, eyes running up and down my armoured body.

"Yeah," I said, still holding onto the mini nuke launcher. I was kind of sad to have to leave it behind, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to carry the damnable device all the way from here to Ronto.

"Are you taking that?"

My fingertips tapped against the grip. "I dunno. I guess not."

A smile flickered onto Lloyd's face. "Here," he said, holding out his paws. I gave him the device, and very quickly he did something at the workbench with a bit of careful welding - he had to avoid heating up the pressurized gas for launching - and a leather belt. When he handed it back to me, I found he'd made a strap for it.

Excitedly, I threw the large gun around my back, hoping it wouldn't make me too sore. My back wasn't in the greatest condition since he'd attacked me when we'd first met, and after being thrown violently into the wall by the plasma mine. But for now I was okay, no great pain shooting up my spine. I did, however, feel quite a bit of pressure and soreness where my bullet wound was, but it seemed as if the combat webbing, beneath the armoured plates, compressed my body enough to keep my muscles and bandages well in place. It seemed as if it not only sheltered me from lasers and ballistics, but it sheltered my wounds from my own movements, too. Of course I didn't set the strap over the left side of my chest either, which unfortunately felt less natural to do. But I would get by.

As usual Lloyd and I took a final look around to see if we were missing anything, and confident we weren't - Lloyd did make a point of grabbing a few mini nukes - the two of us quickly left the workshop and the armoury, myself grabbing a can of Cram on the way out. Having wandered Vault 95 earlier, I quickly remembered where that shortcut was to the large vault door, forgetting momentarily just how big the tiger was, and how much effort it would be for him to crawl through the small maintenance tunnels. But, nevertheless, we made it through unscathed and took our first breath of fresh, Wasteland air.

When at last the sun touched upon my face, having hiked through a surprisingly rugged cave to exit the vault proper, I couldn't help but close my eyes and take in the rays I thought I would never feel again. There was a bit of a path before us, and a lot of wrinkled, withered dead trees all around, but upon clearing the woods, I saw Vault 95 was, in fact, hidden within the escarpment. Below the cliffs and quite a distance away was the decimated city Yoren was so fond of, strangely beautiful in the early afternoon daylight with its jagged landscape and long, sharp shadows. Even further past this city lay dozens of roads, forking out and fading into ruin, though it was easy to imagine where they'd once been. Even further off was the Great Dried Lake, and beyond that I could barely see through the irradiated haze, a greenish outline of another ruined city, undoubtedly Ronto. Even from here, it seemed like a much grander city than this one, and even then, this one was the biggest I'd ever seen before.

Soon enough, though, after taking in the breathtaking sights, Lloyd and I decided it was time we headed off. The two of us carefully descended the rocky, cliffy escarpment with less ease than I was comfortable with, especially given I was toting a big experimental gun with me, and Lloyd his string of armour.

"Fuck," I groaned about fifty times on our way down, and was happier than I should have been to finally be at ground level. And after a brief pause, and shifting some of my gear around, the tiger and I were on our way, hiking back toward the city in order to cut through and make our way along the coast of the Great Dry Lake and toward Ronto.

Fortunately, the city was about as devoid of life as it was ruined, save a few groups of Mole Rats and dozens of Radroaches at every turn. The path itself was fairly simple, as the city was easy to navigate, and thankfully we were able to avoid most of the wreckage and rubble following along what appeared to be some main roads, but in some places it was unavoidable. It was nothing either of us weren't used to, however, climbing up and down piles of jagged rock, concrete and twisted metal and glass.

An hour or two later, we came upon what appeared to be an industrial district upon the Dry Lake, evidenced by the few smokestacks still standing. All of the big brick ones, of course, had long since fallen, but there were still quite a few metal ones, or parts of metal ones, protruding the sky but no longer smoking. More interesting, though, was the enormous bridge further away from it all, which looked as if it would have, at one point, been right in the Lake, though of course was no longer. Most of it had fallen into ruin, much like the rest of the world, with only its supports still standing. The road itself was mostly fallen, parts of it licking the ground like giant asphalt tongues, held together by rusty, fragile rebars and I-beams. Thankfully we didn't have to go that way, except to pass over it.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing we saw, though, was the multitudes of boats and freighters still on the Dry Lake, rusted almost completely and fallen halfway to their sides. Naturally I wanted to explore them, especially the great big tanker which seemed to dwarf the others, but Lloyd said we couldn't. There wasn't any real reason why we couldn't, besides the fact he wanted to keep going, possibly to get to Ronto before the Automatons were upon us, or perhaps so he could tinker with his damned armour a little more. Either way, the end result was Lloyd and I passing by the giant ship, leaving the ruined factories and smokestacks behind us now as we hiked across the smooth rocks and sand that was the Great Dry Lake.

The worst part of the Dry Lake was how unbelievably flat everything was. I mean, there were some rocks and the like, but for the most part, it felt like we were hiking through a desert with a city behind us and beside us, a massive bridge high above us like a tower, and boats almost close enough to scrape your paw across. All of that made the hazy sun all the more prevalent, beating down on our heads relentlessly and for myself, heating up a lot in my wonderful new armour.

Actually, when I focused on that a bit more, I realized the armour was surprisingly breathable. The slight wind cooled my fur, and my sweat seeped through the webbing with ease which helped again in cooling me down. And I was sweating a lot with this horribly heavy gun on my back, which only seemed to get heavier with every step. But besides the ceramic, polymer plates, or whatever Lloyd had called them, blocking the wind, I wasn't nearly as hot as I figured I should have been.

Regardless, I was quick to untie my bandana from around my neck and tie it around my head, keeping the sun off as best I could, though now my sweat soaked down into my armour. I wanted to complain, yet seeing Lloyd carrying far more than me seemed to keep my mouth shut, that and the fact talking wasted more energy than I cared to admit.

But finally, for whatever reason, I felt I had to say something. "My chest hurts," I whined, scratching at the spot on my armour that covered my bullet wound. "And my footpaws."

Lloyd barely glanced over at me. "And?"

I frowned. "There's nowhere to rest," I pointed out. With the bridge now behind us, I could only rely on Lloyd for shade. Part of me wanted desperately to tear all my armour off and walk completely nude, or next to nude, as I was dying from the heat. Not just because I was hot, but because my sweat was bothering my sores and my burns, which itched like crazy.

"You see that rock there?"

I looked up, probably for the first time in at least an hour. "Yeah."

"We'll rest there for a while. Sun's starting to go down, anyway."

Considering my eyes had been affixed to the ground for so long, I'd barely realized just how stretched and deformed our shadows had gotten. Though I was eager to get to Ronto, I was admittedly glad to see the greenish, purple-red sunset behind us, when I actually ventured to look, because it meant cooler temperatures and, more importantly, rest. The can of Cram I'd grabbed back at the vault was gone now, which meant either I somehow ate it without knowing it, perhaps in a heat-induced daze, or I'd inadvertently dropped it somewhere and it was lost forever. Either way, we reached the big, once-underwater rock soon enough, and I was glad to finally throw down the mini nuke launcher, which I'd nicknamed the Fat Man.

That, of course, made me realize I should have nicknames for all my guns. I mean, my shotgun had a name, and now my mini nuke launcher. But what about my 10mm and plasma pistol? Didn't they deserve names? Well, certainly my 10mm piece-of-shit didn't, given I hated its guts. But surely my trusty plasma pistol deserved one. Something like Sparky, though I felt like that was a fairly typical name for energy weapons. Or perhaps Bullet Hole, since it was what I was using when I got shot. Stinger, maybe, or something incorporating the word Green.

I sighed quietly as I plopped myself down, scratching at my armour.

"Don't scratch," said the tiger, taking a seat next to me in the shade.

"I'm not scratching anything that'll make me bleed," I said with a frown. "You know, this armour seemed like a great idea in the vault, but I'm really starting to appreciate my torn, smelly clothes a little more now. Taking this shit off isn't so easy." I gave my chest plate a yank, but it was firmly in place; I'd need Lloyd's help getting out of it. "How am I supposed to sleep in this, anyway?"

Suddenly, without warning, Lloyd's paw was on my left check and he forced my face toward his, and in a smooth, liquid motion, he gave me a kiss.

Though surprised at first, my lips melted into his and my tongue soon followed suit. I felt up his tight neck muscles with my right paw, eyes closed and enjoying the taste of Lloyd's old maw. It hadn't occurred to me until later, but he probably only kissed me to shut me up. I appreciated it all the same.

When at last he pulled away, my face was burning red and a small smile had crept onto my face. I had a massive hard-on, too, but it was shielded by my armour. I didn't feel like asking him what that was for, but instead just accepted it had happened.

"I'll help you take it off," Lloyd said with a grin. I wasn't sure what all was implied in that statement, but I gladly accepted his proposal.

In just a few short minutes, I had the shoulder and chest plates off, as well as the armour around my hips, then soon my top. For now I left the tight bottoms on, which now sported a great big bulge where once was some armour. It was nice to feel the cool air against my fur again, despite the fact most of my fur was either gone or behind bandages. I gave the old tiger a short kiss as thanks, and as he leaned back against the rock once more, I climbed into his arms, facing him as I straddled his body.

"So what now?" I asked, blushing and smiling like a little kid. In fact, compared to him, I was a little kid, being just a little more than half his age.

Lloyd ran his paws up my back, careful around my bandages, but for now embraced me tightly. "I was hoping we could get some rest," he said. I felt like he wasn't particularly up for sex again, which was probably for the best - my poor unused tailhole was still noticeably sore, though not terribly so.

"We gonna make a fire?" I asked, happily running my paws through his faded orangey fur. When I looked closer at his face, I saw far more wrinkles than I'd seen before, and his eyes looked old and tired. His stripes had faded quite a bit, too, and the white of his muzzle extended much further than I realized, as if he'd somehow aged more so since our first meeting. Still, I loved this old tiger.

"If you want one, I'll build you one. But I don't think it'll be necessary. We have other ways of keeping ourselves warm."

I had to smile at that. He wasn't exactly subtle. "We don't need a fire," I said softly, rubbing my face gently against his, and he rubbed back.

For a while we just held on to each other, sharing our warmth and generally touching each other all over. His fur was surprisingly soft considering its age. It was softer than mine, and I was twenty-five years his junior. What was left of my fur was all matted and oily, though in some spots it was dry and brittle, too. But that didn't seem to stop his paws from touching me all around, and myself from moaning quietly and touching him back.

As the sun began to set, so, too, did the air begin to cool. Lloyd had removed his shirt and in just moments we were both on the ground spooning. I was in front of the tiger, his massive arms holding me close to his plush, fat body, keeping me warm. Despite the warmth, I still felt a chill from my bullet hole, but otherwise I was very comfortable. Our actions never went much further than touching and caressing, and I think I may have remained hard the whole night. Nevertheless, sleep found me easily for the first time in ages, warm and happy and comfortable, and without fear nor a care in the world.

Of course, that feeling lasted only as long as the darkness did. When the sun rose, Lloyd stirred and got up, quickly dressing himself and preparing to leave again, leaving me in the dirt with barely any clothes on. Naturally I just wanted to crawl back to the shaded side of the rock and sleep some more, but when I sensed the tiger was just staring at me impatiently, I knew I had to get up.

Once on my feet, I looked down at the top of my combat webbing with dismay. It wasn't practical for me to carry it around with me, along with the armour plates, but in the heat that was sure to come, wandering around with it on was so much less appealing.

"It's supposed to keep you cool," stated the tiger, as if he was reading my mind. "And you were the one who wanted to tote that weapon around with you. Honestly, when do you think it'll ever come in handy?"

"Well I dunno," I frowned, paws on my hips. I stood leaning on one leg, then switched to the other. "Probably be good against robots, right?"

Lloyd shrugged. "It launches nukes. How bad can it be?"

I glanced back at my stuff. It wasn't nearly as much as what Lloyd was carrying, or rather, not nearly as cumbersome, but considering my size, it was more than enough. It wouldn't slow me down, but it would make me sore, more especially my well-established injuries. But like a good little otter I bent down and began to don my armour once more, quickly gaining an appreciation for my old, dirty rags. Within minutes, with a bit of Lloyd's help, I was re-armoured, rearmed, and ready to head off.

It was a long day of travelling with little consequence. Like usual we had to deal with a bit of the irradiated wildlife and a few Wastelanders and travellers, but otherwise we continued on our path toward Ronto, which was very, very slowly creeping toward us.

In the distance, amongst the hundreds of crumbled, ruined skeletons of skyscrapers stood a rather phallic tower in amazingly good condition. In fact, as the sun began to descend from its midday peak, I began to realize just how massively tall this structure was. There were very few clouds in the sky, but the pointed top had to scrape them as they drifted by, else my eyes were playing tricks on me. It was a seemingly thin structure, though, yet apparently very strong. I couldn't imagine people lived in it, yet Lloyd assured me the Brotherhood had set up their northern headquarters there, up in the ugly bulbous part close to the top, which seemed almost to float there with the tower piercing it from below.

When the sun began to set again, Lloyd and I had made our way back to land, or rather, out of the Great Dry Lake and now followed an old ruined highway, though I preferred trying to walk along the rails close by.

I'd heard of trains before, but had never seen one in person, though I'd seen their tracks dozens of times. Apparently there were very few left in the world that actually worked, and fewer still that had any real use to anyone. Most of them could transport people, I was told, from one part of a city to another, but back before the Great War trains used to carry people across the entire country! I found that hard to believe, but Lloyd swore it was true. After all, he said, why else would they have so many tracks all over the place? Like always I didn't have an answer that wasn't admitting he was right, so instead I frowned. There were also underground trains, the tiger claimed, called subways, which again I'd heard of, but never seen. They existed in Ronto, but many cities while once great, were not so great as to warrant building them. Apparently only the biggest and greatest cities back in the day got subway systems, but Lloyd and I wouldn't get to see any while we were there. Admittedly, that was a little disappointing.

"So how did you even meet the Brotherhood of Steel?" I asked the tiger, arms out to my sides to keep myself balanced atop the train track. Like on the highways, these sets of tracks had square metal archways planted in the ground every so often, holding lights and signals. The majority of them had rusted and fallen, but a few still stood.

Lloyd was just walking between two tracks, of the two sets to choose from. On our right was a broken highway, but amazingly, for the most part, the railroad was in fairly good shape. Of course, if travelling any method other than by foot, neither would do you much good. Around us were dozens of dead trees, dry, straw-like grass, and more destroyed and abandoned homes and buildings than you could count. It was really difficult, actually, to tell where one city ended and where another began, but the tiger assured me we weren't yet in Ronto, despite how massively big the city was. He tried to tell me we were only half way there, or two-thirds at best, despite having walked continuously for nearly two whole days. Of course, having never stepped near a city so large, I had no way of knowing.

Still, it was hard to believe not only were cities this large before the Great War, but people actually inhabited them. And not, like, parts of them; people inhabited the whole city. In fact, most of these giant cities, and many smaller ones, had people beyond their actual capacity, since homelessness was a sort of epidemic back in the day. Which made me wonder, was I homeless? Technically, I suppose I was, but Lloyd said the homeless were generally squatters, not vagrants like me. They stayed in one place and starved and begged, which to me was also hard to believe. Anybody who tried that these days died before ever getting their paws on a single scrap or a single cap, or were taken as slaves or eaten by the wildlife. Most of them died of thirst, but of course even I knew clean water was in abundance before the War.

I didn't mind being homeless, of course. To me, homelessness was freedom. Sure, I rarely had enough food to survive a day on, and was grossly short of caps and clean water, but I wasn't bound to anyone or anything. I could go where I wanted and do what I wanted, whenever I wanted. Every day was like an adventure, though that adventure was generally trying to kill me, but it was a choice I was able to make. Like the choice to follow Lloyd Thompson around, and get myself nearly blown into a thousand pieces and shot to death.

Lloyd glanced over at me, watching me balance myself, and when I turned my head I saw he was smiling. That made me lose balance of course, but I was quick to get back up on the rail again. "Well?" There was an unusually long silence from Lloyd, as if he'd been hypnotized by watching me.

"It was a chance encounter, I suppose," said the behemoth feline, looking ahead. By the time he started, I'd given up trying to rail-walk, and was walking close to him. "After I found you and saved you from your burning town, I resumed my hunt for Frost that evening. But whatever trace of him he'd left in that town had been burned along with everything else. All his men were dead and his captured slaves either fled or had died with the rest. For two more years I searched fruitlessly for the damned slaver, moving from town to town, from city to city asking about him. If anybody knew anything that would help, they did not give the information up, at least not willingly. I did get lucky, however, when one of his clients, or ex-clients, sang me a lovely song as I broke his legs, telling me Frost had visited recently. I wasn't sure if I believed him, but I had nothing else to go on. And so I headed west, toward Ronto. It wasn't actually until I reached a ruined little city called Ajax where I first encountered the Brotherhood.

"At the time, I didn't know who they were, nor what they were doing, nor why they would bother an angry, lost soul such as myself. But they did, and three of their men suffered for it, of the five travelling. As it happened, they were scouting for new technology as the Brotherhood often does, exploring the many parts of the Wasteland and of the outer reaches of Ronto they hadn't yet scoured. Without even a weapon on me, they stopped me and demanded to know where the tech was, mistaking me for a local. It had apparently been weeks since the group had been sent out, and having seen not a single bit of action in all that time, the tension rose quickly.

"Needless to say, they called me uncooperative and hostile and attacked. But the first one who'd attacked me was greener than...well, greener than the grass that'd grown there before the War. I disarmed him easily enough, then opened fire on the other four, just enough for me to find cover. The other two who'd attacked next were the main instigators, and with a pulse grenade I'd taken from the green boy, I felled them immediately. I hadn't taken their lives, but with their Power Armour nonoperational, they were completely immobilized. The remaining two managed to talk me down, mostly their second-in-command. He apologized for his commander, and promised to be civil if I could do the same."

As the sun slowly inched toward the horizon, obscured by countless steel beams and rotten concrete and blackened trees, Lloyd and I came up to an underpass, which incredibly was still left standing. The tracks before us went on for a good, long while, and the tiger said it would take us straight to the Tower, the Brotherhood's northern headquarters. He also suggested we stop and rest for the night, since there wouldn't be much left in the way of cover between here and there, and with sore footpaws I readily agreed.

At the side of the tunnel, closer toward the wall and away from the tracks, I quickly stripped out of my regrettable armour, again leaving the bottom bits on for now, while Lloyd set up a modest fire beneath the bridge. Together we ate, mostly in silence, and I helped the fat tiger out of his shirt so as to rub his back. He told me it wasn't necessary, but the small bulge in my pants was saying otherwise.

"So they took you in, then?" I asked as my fingers pressed into Lloyd's hard, muscular back. The lower parts of his back were much flabbier than the areas around his shoulder and upper spine, but it was enjoyable for us both all the same.

"Essentially," groaned the tiger, starting to relax for a change. He squirmed uncomfortably, probably unaccustomed to such attention, but I was intent on pleasing him. "Their second-in-command, an old hare named Brandon Cross, used to be a recruiter for the Brotherhood, back when they actually still recruited. Anyway, he said he saw potential in me, or something along those lines, and wanted to take me back to their Elder, who at the time was a tired old skunk named Jory Castle. He's long dead now, Jory, but lived long enough to see me become an Initiate, and later a Knight. So far as I know, our chapter's Elder is still Seth Tarle. It was many years before I became a Paladin, then a Commander thereafter."

After working out a knot by Lloyd's left shoulder blade, I asked, "So what was Frost doing that whole time?"

I felt his muscles tighten for a moment. It seemed just saying his name was enough to make him bristle. "While I can't be certain, it seemed he was busy in the streets and ruined slums of Ronto, beyond the Brotherhood's and the Military's boundaries, spreading the word of his Lord Hyperion and quickly recruiting eager followers. Apparently if you dangle a few caps and some food in front of their faces, the poor will follow you just about anywhere. While at first he seemed like just another crazy self-appointed prophet who would soon die out, his little cult grew far more rapidly than anyone would have suspected, almost unnoticed. He claimed to be a prophet of peace, even calling himself Hyperlink, and at the time no one really knew who this strange newcomer was, including myself. As the cult continued to grow, so, too, did the violence.

"It was never anything major, and certainly nothing either the Ronto Military or the Brotherhood couldn't handle. A few skirmishes here, a few brawls there, usually coming from the cultists wanting to get into the city proper. It would take another year or so for them to become any real threat, mostly to the Brotherhood for their almost exclusive use of energy weapons, but just when the tension seemed to peak, Hyperlink came in and managed to work things out. The Automatons, as they'd started calling themselves, had settled in the old train station east of the Tower, claiming it as their temple and sanctuary. Union, they call it. Things seemed peaceful enough, though if the Brotherhood had their way the Automatons wouldn't be allowed anywhere near Ronto."

"Why didn't they do anything about it then?" My paws focused a bit more on Lloyd's lower back now, massaging as best I could.

Lloyd sighed in frustration. "The Brotherhood of Steel, like the Automatons, are essentially guests in Ronto. Ronto is a significant military power, protecting civilians within the city, but unfortunately must ignore most of the others outside their walls, though they do honestly try. Beyond their walls is what is known as the Outer Ring, a massive area which makes up at least two-thirds of the rest of the city and is almost entirely in ruin. Even now it has not yet been fully explored, but closer to Ronto's walls live all the squatters and wanderers, dwelling within the ruins and slums of the Outer Ring because they can't afford to get inside or can't join the military. There isn't really enough space in Ronto for these people anyway, most of whom had come long after the walls were built, having sort of emerged from the Wasteland in hopes of finding food and shelter. The military has been trying to extend the city's limits over the years, clearing rubble and reinforcing homes to help these people out, but it's very slow-going. But then Frost - or Hyperlink then - and his band of cultists swooped in and solved much of Ronto's problems, taking in a good portion of the homeless as followers of Hyperion."

"And that's why they were let into the city," I said, not for any particular reason.

Lloyd grunted a response.

By that time, my paws had worked back up toward his shoulders, moving along his spine toward his shoulder blades, then up and around his massive shoulder muscles, thumbs doing much of the work. He was very tense, or so it felt to my inexperienced paws, and I had no idea how much I was actually helping. But he didn't ask me to stop, which was a good sign, so I continued on like that for a while longer until I decided to wrap my arms around him and rest my head upon his shoulder.

"Thank you," said Lloyd, whether it'd actually helped or not.

I moved my head slightly to kiss the tiger gently on the side of his neck, then again further up, then gave his right cheek a quiet nuzzle. He seemed to like that, as I felt his face push slightly back into mine, rubbing fur against fur. I smiled and unwrapped my arms, paws running over his tight shoulders once more, except this time they slid downward toward his chest and I pressed my body against his back, holding tight. I nuzzled him again.

Lloyd smiled and nuzzled back, paws raising to meet mine. With a firm hold, he leaned back into me for a moment, I think enjoying the warmth of my body about as much as I enjoyed his. After a short while, he suggested me off with his paws and scooched back on his bum toward the pale concrete wall and pulled me toward the front of him, leaning backward, all in one quick, fluid motion. I soon found myself on my bum as well, sitting in front of the tiger and his big belly, his paws around my stomach and holding me close.

I could feel a slight chill in the air, despite Lloyd and his fire, but in his arms I was quite comfortable. Even the ground didn't seem so hard and rocky as when I was leaning against him. He gave me a squeeze and I smiled, and that damned bulge down below seemed only to grow. I shifted slightly, then shifted again, then accidentally groaned a little and turned a bit. With my right paw, I slid my digits through his chest fur, almost cupping his muscular chest as it slid over his nipple, which was hard beneath the white fur. For now my finger circled his nipple, flicking it gently and otherwise teasing him. The best part was hearing him groan a little, which for some reason made me blush.

The tiger took my paw in his, holding his thumb on my pads as if to examine my fingers, and I suppose instinctively I spread them out, revealing a bit of the webbing between them. I giggled quietly as he lifted my paw to his mouth and he kissed my burnt little digits lightly, then pressed my pads into his cheek. We shared a long glance, and I think in just a moment, we were having the same thought. At least, I hoped we were.

I slid my paw down off his cheek to grip Lloyd's shoulder, lifting myself and turning to face him, now on my knees. Thankfully, I had the bottom half of my armour still on, so my knees were protected against the rocks, gravel and other hard things. Then with both paws on his shoulders, I leaned in and gave the tiger a long, deep, very satisfying kiss.

As his tongue pressed into mine, his paws flicked and toyed with the top of my pants, managing to get the belt off and now sliding my pants down, exposing my bum to the cool air. I didn't mind, since for the most part, I was pretty damn warm, at least my face was. I moaned inadvertently and tilted my head, which seemed to cue his pushing my pants right down, exposing my bits to the air. I giggled again which broke off the kiss and made me shudder lustfully. In just a second, Lloyd's paws were busy at his own pants, not pulling them down but opening them enough to expose his white-furred sheath, already fully hard.

The last bit of blush crept into my face as I saw his pride, and in just a moment I had my pants off one leg, at least, all I could manage without letting myself fall backward. It was enough, at any rate, to get my legs around Lloyd, still gripping his shoulders, and lower myself upon him, his big strong paws guiding me expertly.

A moment later, I felt his wet, rock-hard pride poke at my tailhole, and neither of us wasted any time in getting started. With his paws on my hips, he continued to guide me downward on top of him, and though it was just as painful as the first time we'd done this, I managed much easier, perhaps now because I knew just how big he truly was. I cried out until he hilted me, the merciful tiger letting me rest before continuing. For now I smiled and laughed, kissing the tiger and nuzzling him. The air was cool against my back, but all the rest of me was hot.

After a short couple minutes, the tiger got started, thrusting softly at first, but becoming far more rigorous with every push. I let out near constant noises, both of pain and pleasure, totally uninhibited, my own shaft spurting otter-seed as Lloyd and I progressed.

Lloyd and I continued for what felt like only a few minutes, but those few minutes were some of the most intense I'd ever felt. My whole body practically shook with pleasure, and my loud cries helped illustrate that point perfectly. Even Lloyd was grunting a little. But soon, after much less time than I'd hoped for - though it was still incredible - the tiger threw back his head and let out a roar, which was accompanied by my far less intimidating, high-pitched cries and moans as ropes of otter-seed came shooting from my slick, smooth shaft.

Lloyd pushed me down and thrust upward when he began to roar, and when all our noises had died down, I sat upon him with my paw on my belly and panting. "Holy shit," I said with a laugh, my length slowly receding back into the warmth and safety of my sheath. My belly felt warm, and my nethers still tingled with excitement and pleasure. I could practically feel his tiger-seed inside me, and thinking about that made me inexplicably blush more, or again, and rub my belly. I laughed again, softer, and nuzzled my big strong tiger.

Lloyd nuzzled back, his paws on my back and running through my fur. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, his body soft and warm. My heart was pounding and I felt something stir in my gut as I considered my next few words. Unfortunately, I let them spill out anyway. "I love you," I said quietly into his ear, resting my head upon his shoulder. Immediately after I said those words, my stomach twisted and turned, which only grew worse with every second Lloyd didn't say anything in return. My paws shook slightly, and this damned hug seemed to get more and more awkward.

"James," he finally said, his tone impossible to read. He paused again, then gave me a slight squeeze, paws firm against the small of my back. Then he laughed quietly through his nose. "I love you, too, James Grayson."

A smile immediately stretched wide across my face as he said those words, my poor heart nearly exploding with joy as I gave the tiger a tighter squeeze than I may have meant to. With my eyes closed, I nuzzled his cheek and listened to my heart thump against my chest, and the deafening roar of blood flowing heavily through my ears. I was twelve years old the last time I felt so happy, and with Lloyd being the big giant brute he was, I knew he wouldn't leave me as easily as Chase had all those years ago. I gave him another squeeze, my smile stuck to my face almost permanently.

Lloyd laughed quietly through his nose again, patting my back this time. He was smiling, too, I saw when I pulled away, and again we shared a kiss. His lips were soft and sweet against mine, his paws gentle as he held me about my waist. I noticed from the corner of my eye, the second before I closed them, the tip of his tail flicking up and down, and I was certain if my tail was flick-able, I'd be doing much the same.

But like all good things, soon our kiss came to an end. I gave the behemoth feline one more hearty hug and finally slid off him, savouring the warmth as it slipped away from me. As I watched him zip up his shorts and clean off his belly - I'd made a bigger mess than I realized - I pulled my combat webbing back up and shivered. When I looked about, I realized the sun had gone completely down and our fire was barely even a flame.

"I'm going to find some more wood," said Lloyd, standing up.

I just glanced up at him and blushed, then nodded. When at last he returned, he stoked the fire and lay on his side, urging me down with him. Happily I followed, trying my best to get comfortable on the hard ground by the tracks. When I found my place, I draped Lloyd's strong arm around me and closed my eyes, back pressed into his body. Happily, sleep found me quickly.

I opened my eyes with a sharp pain in my back, somewhere around my lower ribs. I groaned as I slowly sat up, this pain a new one. My face still hurt from the bludgeoning Jaime had given me, my burns itched like mad, my gunshot wound was throbbing...and now my ribs. I sighed quietly, rubbing the spot gingerly. "Fuck me," I groaned, frowning at it. Most likely it was due to either sleeping crookedly, or more likely, sleeping on something sharp. At least this pain promised to go away after a day or so, while I knew these others would plague me for a good long time.

"You okay?" I heard a voice say, perhaps three metres away from me.

When the memory of where I was suddenly came back to me, as well as my vision, I saw Lloyd standing before me, mostly all ready to go. Our fire had long since gone out, and I could see a few spots of hazy light poking through the entrance (or exit, depending on your perspective) of the tunnel. The sun was just rising, I gathered, and the air was still strangely cool. I knew it would dissipate quickly, though, as the sun rose.

"You're up early," I said groggily, getting to my sore footpaws. My left footpaw still throbbed from having that nail hammered through it, though felt infinitely better than it had since Lloyd cleaned it and wrapped it.

"I didn't want to wake you."

I could appreciate that, though if the option was either sleeping in with pain or waking early without, I would have undoubtedly chosen the latter. "Thanks," I said anyway, approaching Lloyd slowly. I gave the brutal tiger a hug, clinging on as I smiled up at him. I love you, and you love me back, I thought to myself, giving him a squeeze. He just looked puzzled, but hugged me anyway.

When at last I peeled away from the fully-clothed behemoth, I quickly gathered my things and clothed myself, the armour doing a great job at shielding me from the cool morning air. I then strapped on my gun belts and the enormous mini nuke launcher I'd named Fat Man, which I had to sling over one shoulder, opposite to my bag.

"Okay," I said warily, not yet used to carrying such heavy machinery, nor so awkward. Fat Man wasn't as heavy as a missile launcher, but it was certainly as long and as large. Like my armour, I was starting to regret taking it, too, especially since I also had to carry a few mini nukes with me, which were not light. But the rail gun would be useless without them. "I think I'm ready to go."

"You sure?" asked the tiger, holding his metal pipe-turned-club over one shoulder.

"Yes," I frowned, but looked about anyway. Once again, Lloyd and I ventured forth, seeming even closer to the city than we had when we first entered the tunnel, as if we'd been transported a day's walk forward when we passed beneath the cracked and broken concrete structure.

With Lloyd's big, beefy arms swinging at his sides as he walked, myself to his left, I felt compelled to hold onto one arm, as if to stop it from swinging. Lloyd glanced at me with a slight smile, and soon I had to just settle with holding paws, though it wasn't so easy since our fingers couldn't link like other, non-semi-aquatic furs could. But we managed, and though most people would be teased and shot at for holding paws like this in the Wasteland, I felt confident no one would be particularly inclined to bother someone as monstrous as Lloyd.

But when the sun was high, for as exciting as it was to hold his paw, it became far too hot and humid to be anywhere near the tiger, and so I decided to go back to walking on the rails, balancing myself much easier than I had the previous day.

Lloyd and I saw very few people the closer to the city we got, not that we saw many before, but as he explained to me, most don't live around the ruins along the main lines into the city. Most of them have no place to go, he said, and no money, and certainly no food, and there was an unusually high death rate amongst dregs who bother well-armed merchants, Wastelanders and the occasional raider or three or four. So they mostly inhabit old ruins by the Dry Lake, or north or east of the city, and the various, poor towns surrounding it, all of which was within the Outer Ring. The path Lloyd and I were currently on didn't have many nearby buildings squatters could inhabit anyway, though we passed a couple merchants watering their pack brahmin.

At that point, we were on the broken road again, which ran mostly parallel to the train tracks. We were coming up to an enormous wall made mostly of rusty sheet metal and smashed concrete, more like a pile than anything. But it connected to a relatively intact building known only as the Ronto Dome, though it didn't look particularly dome-like to me. Lloyd assured me, however, at one point before the Great War, it was a sight to behold, and was, in fact, quite dome-shaped. I still had a hard time imagining that, but I had to take his word for it. Apparently there was a gate into the city at the Dome, with hallways leading into the city proper, as well as into the training grounds.

Apparently, Ronto was set up in a very rough triangle shape. Not quite a triangle, but certainly not square, either. Anyway, the three main points of the city were the Ronto Dome - as well as the Tower next to it, occupied by the Brotherhood of Steel - at the south-western point, while further north was the old City Hall building, apparently the actual City Hall from before the War, as the northern point. And the third of course was Union (and a bit of area east of it), the massive, ancient building which housed the Automatons and served as the south-eastern point. The walls essentially connected all three points with frequent guard posts and entrances, though if Ronto's military was anywhere near as great as I'd been told it was, that wasn't any problem for them. Apparently the Brotherhood would help guard the gates at the Dome, too, or rather they would have particular gates they'd guard, closer to their quarter. To keep things friendly and squared between the Brotherhood and the Military, some Brothers would also walk the walls with the Ronto soldiers.

Ronto's City Hall, as Lloyd pointed out, was used by the city before the War, though of its two tall, curved buildings, the eastern one had been completely toppled. But nevertheless, the other building, the shorter of the two - as well as the smaller dome-shaped building in its centre, and actually a dome - was the main headquarters for Ronto's military and its leaders, as well as some Brotherhood representatives, too. I was given their names, the few Scribes assigned there, but I forgot them almost immediately after Lloyd had said them. Fortunately we wouldn't have to deal much with the Ronto military, as they generally stayed out of the Brotherhood's business, and as best as they could, the Brotherhood stayed out of theirs. Only when the city's welfare was involved did the two ever clash, and that wasn't very often.

The Dome, however, was shared by both the Brotherhood of Steel and Ronto's military, though very few quarrels ever broke out there, either. Sometimes it happened, though, when a bit of cock-measuring got out of control, but in general the two mighty forces were able to maintain some semblance of order within the Dome. On the field, there was almost always training of some description going on, be it in weapons combat or hand-to-hand or just regular exercise, and sometimes the two would spar or train together, that is if the situation ever called for it. Not often did that happen.

The Tower, on the other hand, was completely inhabited by the Brotherhood of Steel. Ronto's military didn't have much use for the tower besides observation, but ever since the Brotherhood moved in and they built the wall, the Tower had become all the more useless. Besides that, because there wasn't any power to the building at the time, and because they lacked the sufficient mechanical know-how to fix it, anyone who had to observe and report in the tower had also to ascend and descend the 1,776 steps at least once daily. They did have functioning radios, though, back when the Military occupied the Tower, otherwise that task would have been rather...inefficient. But ever since the Brotherhood came along, they managed to fix the elevators and bring power back to the Tower, as well as several other main buildings in the area, though they only used up the bare minimum. That meant no rotating Pod, the main part of the Tower which the Brotherhood operated out of, not that that had ever served much purpose anyway. According to Lloyd, the Scribes were also working on getting the communications tower back up and running, though they were a long way off from achieving that goal, last he heard. I couldn't imagine who the Brotherhood would want to try to communicate with, though I suppose being in constant contact with other Chapters would have its uses.

Less than an hour after the sun had reached its zenith, two hot and sweaty furs in the forms of an otter and a tiger came lumbering from the greenish haze of the Wasteland, over an enormous pile of rubble to the left of a half-ruined apartment building and into the dead intersection of what was undoubtedly a very busy street. To our right was another tall building, one half totally collapsed but the other half in remarkably good shape. Before us, though, less than a block away, was the infamous Dome, and might I add, it looked very un-dome-like. Behind it stood the Tower, obscured by the Wasteland's nasty haze and the glare of the sun, but no building in the area stood any taller. When my eyes finally peeled away from the dusty, greenish sky, I saw three Knights - I assumed they were Knights - approaching.

All three wore Power Armour such as what Lloyd was carrying with him, yet theirs did look somewhat different, not that I could have easily placed the differences. All wore helmets besides the one in front, and both helmeted soldiers carried massive Miniguns with them. I was getting tired (more tired) just imagining having to carry those enormous weapons around with me all day, plus in that heavy armour. My own was bad enough.

"Halt, citizen," said the Brother in the middle, the one without the helmet. When he at last met us in the cracked and ruined intersection outside the western walls of Ronto, and the Dome, I saw he was a rather nice-looking coyote with strong dark eyes, though half his left ear was missing. He carried just a laser rifle, though it looked heavily modified. From what I could see, the muzzle had been extended by at least half as much, a scope had somehow been attached, and there were many more wires and tubes running along its square-shaped hull, and even a few exposed circuit boards as well. Unlike his two companions, the coyote's power armour was more heavily scratched and abused, and was slightly darker, too. Obviously he was the more seasoned Brother. "What business do you have in Ronto?" He was looking at me for some reason.

"My business is with Elder Tarle," said Lloyd, stepping forward. His tone left no room for argument, though the coyote laughed anyway.

"Is that right," he said. It hadn't occurred to me at the time, but probably most of the Wastelanders coming to Ronto didn't have a clue there even was an Elder, much less what his name would be. "Well, it just so happens Elder Tarle is far too busy to deal with the likes of you. Now bugger off someplace unless you have real business in the city."

"We do!" I said, cutting off anything Lloyd had planned on saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. We have stuff we want to trade. We're Traders. You let other caravans through, so why not us?" I had no idea how easily trading caravans got into the city, but I was willing to bet they had an easier time than Lloyd and I.

The coyote glanced at us, checking us up and down. "That right?" He didn't believe us. "No pack brahmin?"

"We're a small caravan," I tried desperately.

The coyote gripped his laser rifle a bit tighter and tensed a little, as did his two companions. "If you be needing water, or a place to stay, or a doctor, or you actually have goods to trade, then you best be making your way to the north entrance. Otherwise, piss off."

Just as the three began to turn, led by the coyote, Lloyd stepped forward and said, "Hey. I don't know who you are, but I have no doubt in my mind you have done nothing to deserve that little attitude of yours. I can appreciate your sense of duty, but you have no right to treat civilians with such discourtesy."

The coyote slowly turned and laughed again. He was a lean fur, despite his armour, and tall. He stood relaxed now, as if Lloyd's short speech meant nothing to him. "I don't know who you are, but if you think-"

Lloyd suddenly growled and lunged forward, knocking the laser rifle aside with his left paw, then head-butted the coyote. Just as the coyote began to fall back, the tiger held him by what appeared to be a handle on his metal chest plate, holding him up with his right paw. The other two had barely enough time to aim their weapons before Lloyd held the coyote as a shield.

"Stand down," the tiger commanded, then threw their helmetless commander back.

"Open fire!" cried the bloodied coyote, now pushing himself back up and looking very dazed and unbalanced.

"I am your Paladin Commander," Lloyd snarled. "Stand. Down."

The two fully-armoured furs looked at each other, then cautiously lowered their weapons. The coyote was not impressed, and opened his mouth to object, but I noticed him eyeing Lloyd's holotags. He shut his mouth immediately, pressing his lips tightly together.

"Sir," said the coyote at last, standing a bit more straight than he had, though still seemed a bit wobbly. "Forgive me, sir. I did not...recognize you. Sir."

Lloyd was still frowning, his nostrils flared. With so much tension, I hadn't even noticed my own paw on Lucky's grip. I promptly removed it.

"You were gone a long time, sir," the humbled canine said. I imagined he had a splitting headache, as evidenced by his wincing. "We... I mean, most of us... The other Paladins, we assumed you were killed, or you deserted, or something. Elder Tarle never told us, nor Aldebourne, or Paladin Fraction; no one knew. After all, you were just a..." The coyote stopped himself there.

"A Wastelander?"

The coyote at least had the decency to look abashed. "You wouldn't have been the first Outsider to desert the Brotherhood, though it's usually the Initiates who are first to desert...as I'm certain you know."

Lloyd nodded, as if to say, "Indeed." Instead he said nothing, but moved forward. Though the armoured canine flinched, he did take a closer glance at the holotags, probably to make sure they were real. Fortunately he made no further attempts at stopping us. As he walked past, the tiger said, "You're doing a fine job out here," then patted the dog once on the shoulder.

"Thank you, sir," replied the coyote, ears drawn back. As I walked past him, following behind Lloyd, I saw a noticeable red mark where my companion had hit him. It made my skull sore just looking at it, despite all my other injuries.

When at last we were out of earshot, or so I assumed, I padded up beside Lloyd and gave his sleeveless arm a quick stroke and said, "You showed him... How'd you know the other two weren't gonna attack you?"

Lloyd shrugged. "I didn't, not really. But I figured the other two were probably, at best, Knights, and not particularly seasoned in battle. Ronto doesn't see a whole lot of action this close to the city walls, especially not near the Dome. You get more trouble along the eastern walls, and even then the soldiers do a good job at keeping the peace. Every so often, though, you get a group of Raiders with enough balls to try sacking the place, thinking either the city isn't as big as they thought, or it's so big they could easily slip in undetected. They never get past the walls, though not for lack of trying. Most of them try to dress like regular Wastelanders or Traders, but almost every Raider is so tweaked out on chems they're spotted from a mile away."

Before us stood the massive walls of the Dome, the enormous training centre for Ronto's Military and the Brotherhood alike. The building seemed to grow with every step we took, and in just a few short minutes we were crossing what appeared to be a courtyard of sorts near the entrance. The walls, I realized, had been fortified with steel beams and layers of both flat and wavy sheet metal, reaching nearly to the top. Along the top I saw several long walkways and lookouts, where Brotherhood of Steel guards were posted. There was one right above the entrance, with two guards looking down suspiciously at us. They both carried either Miniguns or Gatling lasers, I couldn't tell. When at last my eyes fell upon the entrance, three more Brothers awaited us.

Deciding not to mess around, Lloyd presented himself much more formally this time, and while skeptical, they did eventually let us through. Even the Sentry Bot greeted us, however coldly. Paladin Russell, the Brother who greeted us at the entrance, said he'd send word to Elder Tarle we were coming, for all the good that would do.

Naturally I had no idea where I was going in this maze of a facility, so I had to rely on Lloyd alone. The corridors were enormous and sounds from the field echoed quietly though the tunnels, while other soldiers and Scribes went about their daily business all around us, creating a soft clamour. Lloyd pointed out various rooms and pathways and staircases, telling me their main barracks was downstairs, a small section of the basement given to the Brotherhood when they came along with their technology and knowledge. There were corridors above us, too, he said, large and much like this one, except they had been divided up and sectioned off into barracks for the Military. At last Lloyd showed me where his bed and footlocker was, in the basement, and it just looked like every other one in the room. Only difference was, he shared his bed with the other high-ranking officers rather than with the regular Knights and Paladins, and thus less people were around.

The tiger promptly threw his scavenged armour down on his bed and offered I do the same. Without hesitation, I relieved myself of Fat Man and my bag, then massaged my shoulders. Beneath my armour, as well as my bandaged arms, my burns itched wildly, and I couldn't help but scratch the plates against my chest.

"Stop scratching," warned Lloyd, whose shirt, I just realized, was half soaked in sweat. No doubt I looked the same beneath the armoured plates.

I frowned. "Easy for you to say."

The tiger rolled his eyes. "I'll help you change your bandages later," he said. "I want to see Elder Tarle first, to give him an update. We're almost there, James."

"Almost...where?"

"This is it. The last part of my mission. I took out Frost's top officers and recruiters. Now all that's left..."

I could almost see the tension rising off the hulking beast. His heart was pounding so hard I could practically hear it, and I knew if it wasn't for protocol or duty or whatever, he'd have already barged into Union and torn Frost a new one. I was glad he didn't, though, since the impression I'd been given was that would be utter suicide.

"Hey Lloyd," I started, looking up at the monster tiger. We were alone in the room, save the ten beds lying in two rows of five, so I took that time to step forward and put my paws around his giant shoulders. He looked down at me and put his paws around my back. "How are we gonna get into Union, exactly? Won't it be swarming with robots and Automatons and whatnot?" I pressed my armoured body against his sweaty chest.

He had to think about that, apparently. "That's why I want to see Elder Tarle. I've been away for so long, I'm going to need an update of their fortifications. I'll decide how to proceed from there."

It didn't sound like a particularly good plan to me, though I suppose it would be better going in practically blind. I then gave the big tiger a bit of a squeeze and a soft kiss on the lips, which lasted a bit longer than I'd meant it to. Not that I was complaining.

When at last we decided to peel our bodies away from each another, Lloyd gave me a pensive smile and turned away. "C'mon," he said, leading me out of the barracks and through the Dome's basement corridors.

"Through there are the Scribe's Quarters," Lloyd explained, "and up further is their workshop. That's where most of their mechanical engineering takes place, studying new weapons and technologies and so forth, while up in the Tower they work mostly with computers and databases. I don't really understand exactly what they do all the time, but I know part of it involves some of the tech our Knights bring back after missions. Most of it ends up being junk, but every so often they get something useful. Usually old holotapes and ruined guns, but one time someone brought back a so-called Pip-Boy. Only one who could get it running again was our Head Scribe Aldebourne."

Just as Lloyd said that, a small arctic fox in a red robe stepped out from the workshop door, nearly banging into us. The top part of his robe was a deep red with a thick collar loose around his neck and covered his shoulders and a bit of his chest. Beneath that was a lighter red material, looser with sleeves cut off before his elbows and tucking into a thick leather belt around his waist. Below, the rest of the robe, as well as a darker layer underneath, flowed nearly down to his footpaws, with a cut up the middle for easier mobility. While standing still, it seemed to go all the way around like a skirt, but beneath I happened to notice he was wearing a dark pair of pants as well, somewhat loose but nowhere near as flowing as the rest of his robe. Beneath the robes was undoubtedly a tunic or shirt of some kind, the sleeves of which were only visible, save a part snug around his neck; it, too, was made of a darker material. But unlike every other Scribe around here, this one had a big clunky device with a tiny screen and various knobs attached to his left wrist, as well as a leather fingerless glove.

The fox looked up at Lloyd at first with annoyance, then confusion, then a moment of clarity. The last look he gave was of contempt. "Thompson," was all he said, looking up at Lloyd over his small round glasses. "It seems the stories of your demise have been greatly exaggerated. Pity."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Aldebourne."

"Indeed. Twelve years is a long time, Thompson. Why bother returning? As you can see, we hardly fell apart without you."

I didn't know what this small arctic fox's problem was with Lloyd, but either way I wanted to clock the egghead with the butt of Lucky. It would be easy, too, since he was short even compared to me. He was tiny compared to Lloyd, and yet he was clearly in charge of this conversation.

"I suppose it's irrelevant," said Aldebourne before Lloyd could answer, waving his paw as if to dismiss his presence entirely. "We have no shortage of Outsiders in the Brotherhood, what's one more sand monkey? Honestly, they'll take on just about any new recruit these days, no matter how much filth they're encrusted with."

Then the fox glared at me, looked me up and down. "And who the devil are you?"

"James Grayson," I proclaimed, standing up straight and pushing out my chest. Even slouched forward I stood higher than Aldebourne.

The fox rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Your name is about as meaningless as Commander Thompson's here, so don't act so proud. At least tell me you're not a new recruit."

I frowned. "I could be if I wanted to," was all I thought to say.

That apparently made the arctic fox laugh. "Wearing armour and carrying guns doesn't make you a soldier, Wastelander. I doubt even Ronto's Military would take the likes of you."

"Hey," I said with clenched fists, stepping forward. Had Lloyd not stopped me, Aldebourne would probably have a bloody nose right now.

"Thatta boy, Thompson. For once you've actually done something to protect the Brotherhood, instead of running around the Wasteland on some fool's mission. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have extremely important research to do, and I'd rather not waste my precious time talking to a couple filthy Wastelanders."

And with that, Aldebourne walked a few feet and vanished into another room, the door slamming behind him. "What the fuck's his problem?" I said to Lloyd, partly annoyed that he just stood there and took it.

"He's of an older generation who believes the Brotherhood of Steel should be purer than it's become. He sees Outsiders as a sort of plague within the organization, weaker members who will only subvert the Brotherhood and ultimately be its downfall. He says we have weak genetics, that when it comes to Survival of the Fittest, Outsiders are at the bottom of the food chain."

"Yeah, I'll show him how weak I am," I said. I felt like if I had sleeves, I'd have been rolling them up just now.

But Lloyd just shook his head. "He resents any Brother who was once a Wastelander. It isn't personal, not truly. I feel like there's a part of his past he perhaps hasn't told anyone. Either way, I quickly discovered fighting him is far from productive, so it's best to just endure his insults and work your way to the matter at hand. You will eventually get there, especially if it's official business."

"Right," I said frowning. I didn't like the idea of the fox getting away with being such an asshole, but it seemed I had no choice.

"Let's just go see Elder Tarle." Lloyd finally led me back up from the basement and around the main corridor where many of the Knights and Paladins and Scribes seemed to be hanging out and discussing things, and I walked closer to the seats - it was an old stadium, I was told - so I could watch the training down below.

From what I could see, from so far away, they were training at unarmed combat, though admittedly it just looked like a group of soldiers beating the shit out of each other, all in pairs. I hadn't seen much of Ronto's Military coming into the city, but I assumed they were the ones in olive drab combat gear, which was just pants and a tank top similar to Lloyd's. If some of them were part of the Brotherhood of Steel, I couldn't tell them apart. There was also another group of furs running around the whole field, along the perimeter, while another group was doing push-ups. It was exhausting just watching them.

At last we came to a long set of heavy doors, once again fortified with materials other than what they'd been originally made out of; more sheet metal, from the look of it. Once again Lloyd had to present himself to the Brothers guarding the doors, since apparently these ones led out toward the Tower.

Amazingly, the first moment we stepped outside, I somehow didn't see the Tower right away, as I was busy looking about at the rubble and fallen buildings and ruined bridges that served as a backdrop to the Brotherhood's mighty Tower. Before us appeared to be a smaller structure still mostly intact, which apparently led straight into the base of the Tower where we could either hike the mountain of stairs or take the elevator. Naturally I opted for the elevator, though Lloyd warned me it did break down sometimes. Apparently one time, Lloyd was accused of rigging the elevator to stop halfway, as Aldebourne had refused to share the elevator with him to go back down, and it'd unfortunately decided to malfunction on the second run. I had to laugh at that.

When at last my eyes did gaze upon the Tower, I had to crane my head back farther than was comfortable in order to see the Pod up top, where the Brotherhood operated out of. It was multi-layered, too, apparently, with an incredible view of Ronto. Of course, I'd seen enough ruins and rubble in my travels to last a lifetime, but I was fascinated nonetheless.

The area around the base of the Tower was surprisingly clean, though I imagined it'd been cleaned up after so many years. Apparently all the rubble had been piled up to our right, or south of the Tower and Dome, to help create the enormous wall that surrounded the city proper, though it just looked like a ruined mess like the rest of the Wasteland. I was curious to see what the downtown area looked like, as it had the biggest congestion of broken (though not completely destroyed) skyscrapers than the rest of the city. I also had to wonder, the Military kept out the less savoury, but what were they really keeping them out of? More ruins? I was incredibly curious to find out, just to wander the streets and see for myself, since apparently they were the safest in all the Wasteland, but unfortunately we wouldn't be heading up there, at least not until our mission was over.

"Paladin Commander Lloyd Thompson," I suddenly heard Lloyd say, snapping my head back down to earth. "And this is my companion, James Grayson."

"Another recruit, huh?" said a helmetless cheetah. "Y'know, you look familiar. We ever train together? Name sounds familiar, too..."

Lloyd smiled softly. "We went on a mission together, before I received my Commander rank. I wore a helmet most of the time. We were sent to scavenge the old ruins of a military base north of the city. If I recall, all we found were a few ancient, broken Vertibirds and some ruined cars."

"Oh yeah," laughed the cheetah. "Shit, since you became a Commander, I didn't see much of you. You been on some mission or something? Or you just too good for us now?"

Lloyd smiled. "No," he said, "nothing like that. I was on a mission, but I'm back now. I need to speak with Elder Tarle."

The cheetah quickly got the hint. "Ah, yes, sorry, sir. Right through here."

The tiger nodded and led me into what was apparently a gift shop back before the war, and many of the shelves down where the shop was were still fallen over with books and trash and souvenirs thrown about the dark, musty room like a mini nuke had gone off right inside. Interestingly, the pathway between the door and the elevator, which again was being guarded by two Brothers, was totally clear. Fortunately, these two were less inclined to chit-chat, and quickly called the elevator for us. In just a few long minutes, the doors slid open and the bright pod awaited us.

Nervous, I stepped inside, Lloyd behind me. "What if it breaks?" I asked, always somewhat cautious of functioning technology. "What if it snaps halfway up and we start falling?"

Lloyd chuckled quietly and as the doors shut, he gave me a hug, then pressed a button. My heart jumped and stomach lurched as I felt the elevator suddenly lift. I clung onto the tiger tight as I felt the world suddenly rocket downward, or rather, as we shot upward, away from the safe, stable ground below. Lloyd, of course, was very amused by this, but my heart was racing.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," I told myself, somehow sensing just how high up we were, and still the elevator ascended. Surprisingly, it was moving very smoothly, but the sooner this trip ended, the better I would start to feel.

It helped to feel Lloyd squeeze back, though it hardly helped. Thankfully, before too long, I felt the elevator slow and at last stop, and the doors opened with an alarming screech. I was the first one to exit the elevator, almost kissing the ground below me. I knew, of course, I was still up hundreds of feet in the air, but at least the ground was solid.

"C'mon," said the tiger, leading me away from the door. There were several armoured and robed Brothers up here, all working away at stuff, either talking amongst themselves, leaned over tables or peering into monitors, but no one seemed to notice us. I guess they figured after all the security, if someone was tough or clever enough to make it this far, they didn't have a hope of stopping him.

After leading me past a small group of Scribes, instead of going through the door it looked like he was aiming for, Lloyd stopped short of grabbing my arm and pulled me toward the curved window and nearly thrust me into it. After I pushed him away, I finally gazed out.

At first my heart skipped a beat, not from the beauty of the Wasteland, but from realizing just how high up we truly were. After the initial shock and fright wore off, though, I was suddenly awe-struck by the sheer size of the city around us. The Outer Ring of whatever city this was before Ronto seemed to envelop the walled city entirely, dwarfing it in size. Though some parts of Ronto were in ruin, comparatively, much more of its buildings had somehow been spared the worst of the atomic fires than everything else surrounding it. I hadn't any idea of just how big the Outer Ring was until seeing it from so high up, but whatever they called this city before the Great War, it sure as hell made Ronto look like a shitty little village by comparison. The old city seemed to stretch outward for miles, far beyond what I could see on every side, yet all that had remained after the bombs fell was a tiny triangle-shaped fraction of what it once was.

"Amazing," I said, my sweaty pawpads pressing into the glass. I was almost an inch from rubbing my moist nose against the window, too, but managed to stop myself before smearing it. "It's too bad the Pod doesn't turn anymore, then you wouldn't have the same crappy view every time you stop working."

Lloyd just smiled at me, laughing quietly through his nose. After staring out the window for a while longer, though, eventually the tiger urged me along, dragging me through that particular door and up a few sets of stairs, into another circular, tire-shaped chamber much like the one below, except it seemed more cozy up here. There were only a few Brothers around, and instead of there being walls and an elevator entrance in the middle, instead there was a bit of machinery up on a raised dais, as well as a big movable chair. More machinery and equipment lay around the room, and like before there were windows along the circumference, peering out at the ruined city.

In the centre of the topmost Pod sat who I presumed was Elder Tarle, wearing similar garb to the Scribes, except his robes were a very dark blue, almost black. When he turned, the top part of the old bear's robes were undone, revealing a fat body covered by a darker-coloured top. The belt around his waist was enormous, and looked much more mechanical and ornate than any of the Scribes. The Elder appeared tired and old, and yet like Lloyd, I saw a lot of strength in him.

"Lloyd Thompson," boomed the old bear, his voice deep and commanding. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly with two large paws as he stood up, his enormous weight and power crashing over us as he gazed down. If ever there was a fur who could match Lloyd in sheer size and strength, truly this old bear was him. "How long has it been?"

"Elder Tarle, sir," said the tiger as a greeting. It was weird seeing him under another's power. "Almost twelve years."

"You have returned to us, much wiser I hope. You have not yet completed your mission."

Lloyd looked nervously at the other armoured furs in the room, which made the Elder chuckle.

"Leave us," commanded the bear, waving the back of his paw at them. When the four hesitated, all Tarle had to do was snap his head toward them and within seconds they were gone. His face was weathered and hard, as if chiselled from stone by the stinging winds of the Wasteland. When he turned back to Lloyd, his face softened. "I suspect you have completed the first stage of your mission, however. Twelve years is a long time, Commander, and you no doubt seek council on how next to move." The bear was nothing if not insightful. He then glanced briefly at me, then back to Lloyd. "And who is this?"

"He is...a friend."

"James Grayson," I suddenly announced, stepping forward. I figured since I wasn't a part of their little club, I could skip the formalities. Tarle seemed unmoved by my outburst, but slowly nodded his head once as a sort of greeting.

"It is sometimes dangerous to get close to these Wastelanders," said the bear in his deep, slow voice, "but when you left us I feared you would never be able to sympathize with any cause but your own. It is good to see you have found your heart again." Tarle then looked back at me.

I instantly began to blush as if the old bear had seen straight through me, like he was staring at me naked and he knew the most intimate details of my and Lloyd's relationship. He had no way of knowing, and yet something in his hard features and dark expressive eyes told me he knew far more than he said. I only blushed more.

Lloyd nodded once to ease the tension. "I have no doubt word of my actions have reached Frost by this point," said the clever tiger, changing the subject for me. "Even his Commander from Vault 95 was expecting me."

"Indeed. And there has been far too much activity in recent years than we'd like. It seems they have been recruiting almost anyone who happens by, and it has been a long time since they have sent out large parties to spread the word of their lord." Tarle spat at that last part. "Wastelanders will do most anything for promises of food and shelter." He then glanced at me. "No offence."

"None taken," I frowned. It of course occurred to me I wouldn't have been standing before Elder Tarle had my desperation for food not gotten the better of me. But I didn't need to mention that.

"The Automatons seem to be growing in power with every day," despaired the powerful old bear. "We are far better trained, yes, but we are so few by comparison. We know little of their technology, and any attempts to gain insight has been for naught. Some of our Paladins had been sent over while you were gone, Lloyd, posing as desperate Wastelanders, but we have never heard from them. Most likely they were found out and killed, or so we can pray. What I fear most of all is they had been taken in by Frost's cheap words and false promises, and turned into our enemies." The bear shuddered and closed his eyes, disturbed by the thought.

"And what of their defences?" asked Lloyd.

Tarle shook his head slowly. "Many and more robots have come to their aid, it would seem. Real robots, of course, mostly Mr. Gutsy's and Sentry Bots. We believe they are manufacturing their own, or perhaps repairing the damaged, we cannot be certain. As I said, very few parties have been seen departing and returning, and those who had had little cargo. Some of our Brothers think perhaps they have secret tunnels out of Ronto, but no one is certain. We have mapped some of our own passages into Union, using the old metro tunnels, but they, too, are heavily guarded."

"So while I was dismantling his chapters around the Wasteland, he was fortifying his own defences." Lloyd looked troubled. "I hadn't expected that."

"Not in such a short amount of time," offered Tarle. "With every Sentry Bot posted along the front of Union, there are as few as two Automatons with it, often more. Though they use mostly energy weapons, a few snipers are posted along the roof as well. No doubt they have planted mines all around their building, barring the main entrance; that section is swarming with both men and robots. Several scouts sent into the metro tunnels have reported dozens of Turrets lining the ceilings of every tunnel in, as well as heavy barricades at the entrances. No one is walking in there, Lloyd, not even you."

Lloyd sighed quietly, staring hard at his Elder. Tarle stared back, as if they were searching each other's faces for hidden answers, but none presented themselves. Suddenly, the big bear's eyes flicked away, then was back at Lloyd. Both myself and the tiger noticed.

"What is it?" asked Lloyd.

"It's... There is one possibility, but it may not be fully functional, nor particularly plausible. Three years ago, Aldebourne's team found a subway train still largely intact and on the rails north of here. Still in amazingly good condition, a quick check revealed all the electronics and mechanical components had not been stripped, though of course the train had no power. He's been working tirelessly since then to get the train up and running, rerouting power from several points in the city so the Military wouldn't notice. It was risky, but he said if he could get it to work - and he is confident he will get it to work - transport across the city would be both efficient and safe, provided the tunnels are cleared. Fortunately, as Ronto's core had been for the most part spared by the bombs, much of the metro system is in reasonably good condition. Aldebourne says he's close to getting it running again, though it'll be running on mostly scrap metal and dodgy electronics."

"And he'll just give me his train?"

"I know Aldebourne has never had a fondness for Outsiders, but he has small love for the Automatons, too. They are a mockery of everything we stand for. They steal and pillage technology and use it to spread the word of Hyperion, or whatever nonsense they're still on about." With an angry frown, Elder Tarle sat back in his seat as if the conversation had taken every bit of his enormous strength. He sighed heavily. "I will speak to Aldebourne and the rest of the council, on your behalf. We will all be behind you, Commander, and support you, but for sake of concord, the Brotherhood as a whole cannot back your endeavour. Should you fail..."

Lloyd had a hard, yet somehow sullen look to his face, but he nodded all the same. "I understand," was all he said. "Thank you, Elder."

Tarle nodded back. "It is good to see you again, Lloyd. I want your mission to be a success as well as any of your Brothers, but I know you have personal stakes in this, too. I promise to help you as much as I can in taking out Frost and his...cult. When I have spoken with the council, I will send for you. In the meantime, rest."

"Yes, sir," nodded the tiger, then turned around. I followed him out, a bit uneasy about this whole situation. It sounded like to me, Lloyd was on his own and the odds were greatly stacked against him. I just rubbed his back gently as we exited the uppermost pod, continuing toward the lower deck and to the elevator.

"What're you thinking?" I asked the tiger. As soon as the elevator door closed behind us, I stood closer to Lloyd, both to ease the horrible nervous wrenching in my stomach from being on this rusty contraption, and to help comfort him. I could tell he was bothered by that conversation.

"This isn't going to be anything like it was twenty years ago when I rescued you, nor will it be like taking out his top 'disciples.'"

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear Lloyd was scared.

The tiger sighed again, just as the elevator began its descent. "I've come so damn close. He's just down the street from us right now, and yet I still feel like I'm miles away from him. He's had twelve years to fortify himself, while I have only my armour. Every night I can hear him laughing, and the sound my son made before Frost..." Lloyd twisted his face into a terrible frown, nose wrinkled and teeth bared. I nearly took a step back, but instead managed to hold onto his giant paw.

"We'll figure it out, Lloyd. I mean...I have as much reason as you to kill the bastard, right? I've got your back, and you've got mine. Besides, Tarle said he'd give you that train." I wasn't sure what good a functioning train would really have, but it sure sounded good.

Lloyd sighed again and shook his head, gripping my webbed paws back. "If he plans to do what I think he plans to do...Aldebourne isn't going to be happy."

"What was he planning?"

"Elder Tarle was suggesting we use the train to ram their metro defences and attack from below; a surprise attack. It's as good a plan as any, but like he said, he can't afford me much other help. It'll just be you and I, James."

"Why can't he help us?"

"Because we're all officially guests of Ronto's Military," he answered simply. "Ninety percent of Ronto's population is their military. The other ten percent are split unevenly between the Brotherhood, Ronto's citizens and Automatons. Used to be we were two percent, the Automatons one, and citizens seven percent, but over the years that's changed, and unfortunately the Automatons beat us in numbers. Anyway, being guests in Ronto means we can't start waging war on one another, which means if I fail at my mission, the Brotherhood needs to have one-hundred percent deniability. If we march over there with an army... Well, you can imagine how that would turn out."

I wasn't sure what Ronto would do, exactly, but it sounded like they had more than enough people and firepower to kick just about anyone out of their city, though I imagined the Brotherhood of Steel, given their small numbers, would move along quietly. I'd been told numerous times, however, that they can be a stubborn bunch, especially when extremely rare technology is involved. Their Tower would in invaluable for communication, but I didn't know if it was valuable enough to risk war.

When at last the elevator reached the bottom level, I followed Lloyd back to his bed where my and his stuff was. "So what now?" I asked him. With so many people around in one place, I was starting to feel less and less comfortable sitting around doing nothing. Especially with Frost so close by.

Lloyd just stared at his pile of metal scrap for a while, contemplating. "There isn't much for you to do here," said the tiger. "I'm going to continue looking at this armour."

Great, I thought to myself. My options were literally sit (or lie) down and do nothing, wander around the Dome or even Ronto aimlessly, or watch Lloyd tinker away with his stupid armour. No doubt the Brotherhood workshop would be far more busy than the one at Vault 95, so it wasn't as if I could easily distract us with my otterine wiles.

Before I could ask Lloyd what the hell I was supposed to do with myself, he gathered his things and slung them around his shoulder. He gave me a quick glance then made toward the door.

"Hey," I yelled, following behind. "What the hell am I supposed to do with myself?" I finally managed. For as soft and gentle as he could be, I wanted nothing more than to hit Lloyd right now, especially since his back was turned.

"Rest," he replied, taking a turn. He took several more until he reached the workshop, which was filled with a ton of computers, electronic equipment, some old books and papers, and other machinery I didn't recognize. But Lloyd passed through that room, past at least ten red-robed Scribes, and entered another. This one was similar in design, except wider. There were dozens of workbenches, each one with a shelf beside it and a computer, possibly for the Scribe to log his findings. There were bits and pieces of technology I recognized, except it looked as if it had all been stripped down to its barest essentials, then taken apart even further for examination. There were broken robots, dismantled weapons, ruined armour and all sorts of things, like usual, I didn't recognize. I was fascinated by it all, especially by the Scribes hard at work, but couldn't begin to understand what it was they were doing.

Finally Lloyd picked a workbench at the farthest end of the chamber, away from most of the other Scribes. There was one working closer to us, but he looked completely taken by his task. He did, however, glance over in annoyance when Lloyd slammed his newfound armour onto the table. I just watched as the tiger unstrung the sling from his armour and began to separate and sort the pieces he'd collected, then after a moment he began to examine it again.

I sighed quietly and leaned back on the bench to Lloyd's left, looking about. There were five Scribes working away at something, four of them tinkering with some piece of technology, while another was captivated by something on his computer screen.

"What're you working on?" I asked my tiger friend. I rubbed his arm as I asked.

"Same as before," he said. "The designs seem simple enough, but I'm trying to determine how it was applied to normal T-51d armour; it couldn't have been made entirely from scratch."

"Fascinating," I said dryly, not sure why I even bothered asking. I suppose to some degree I found it interesting, but the fact I didn't get it made it hard to stay interested. "How long's that gonna take?"

Lloyd shrugged, then used some small instruments to poke around inside one of the leg components, twisting and turning his head almost as much as he twisted and turned the armour. He was enthralled by his work, and in moments he was lost to me entirely.

With a sigh, I pushed myself away from the workbench and paced around the room. One Scribe looked as if he was repairing some armour, while the one next to him was typing feverishly at a dusty old computer terminal, his lips moving as he typed. Two other Scribes were talking now, one holding a holotape and bouncing it in his paw as he explained something. The other was listening intently, but most of what he said went right over my head. Finally, most interestingly, the Scribe closest to Lloyd looked as if he was working on some energy weapon, like a stripped-apart laser rifle except shortened by half. He had glasses on, and was tinkering with the tiniest components I had ever seen.

"What're you doing?" I asked him. He ignored me, so instead I just watched.

After a moment, though, his face turned into an angry frown, contrast to his concentration frown, and he suddenly slammed his paws down on the table, two little devices still held between his fingers. "What do you want?" he asked me.

"That a laser rifle?" I asked curiously, paw idling against my plasma pistol's grip. I still had to come up with a good nickname for it. Green Fury, perhaps, or the Goomaker. I was growing strangely fond of Sparky, though it sounded typical.

The Scribe growled quietly. The spectacled German shepherd finally glanced at me, then looked me up and down. I was getting used to this sort of greeting by that point. "Who on earth are you?"

"James Grayson," I declared, which made a couple other Scribes look over, including Lloyd. "Who're you?"

"Scribe Rothbury," he said quite properly. He lifted his nose when he said it, too, which annoyed me. "Well since you disrupted my concentration, Outsider, I suppose I might as well answer your question. If you must know, I'm looking at a way to enhance the power of a standard laser rifle, while still maintaining its range and speed. I was in the middle of fine-tuning the crystal array when you so graciously interrupted me."

"I have a plasma pistol," I said, clearly not having a whole lot to add to his problem. I imagined he wouldn't be too helpful, though, in the naming of my second-newest weapon. "I haven't named it yet, though."

Rothbury looked disgusted by my severe lack of scientific knowledge. "I'm sure your conundrum will plague you terribly in the months ahead. Now if you'll excuse me, Outsider, I have other business to attend to. Try not to break anything around here, and should any of my instruments go missing..." Rothbury glared at me and took a step toward the exit before stopping, turning back, and quickly nabbing a holotape from the table. No doubt he kept his notes on that, and would die if somebody stole them. He promptly left after taking his precious notes, leaving me there pondering my gun's name.

"Yeah, fuck you too, buddy," I frowned, meandering back toward Lloyd. He was now onto the arm parts, examining a small group of wires running from where the upper arm piece connects to the shoulder piece of the torso.

"Scribes are all jerks," I said, which apparently made Lloyd smile. He ended up making me smile, and I promptly rubbed his back. "Where can we get some food?"

The tiger finally stopped what he was doing and looked over at me. I saw that same worry in his eyes I saw before, after our meeting with Elder Tarle. I then realized working on this armour was a way for Lloyd to distract himself, to not think about his fears and his troubles and to focus on something more productive. I felt bad for the tiger, and wondered why I wasn't any more afraid than I probably should have been. Perhaps it was because I would be going in with my Golden Behemoth, the monster tiger who protected me when I was two, and continued to do so twenty years later. I felt indestructible with Lloyd at my side, but hadn't really considered his own mortality. I rubbed his back a little more, feeling ashamed.

"Let's go," said the tiger, leading me out of the workshops. I just followed him dutifully, assuming he knew precisely where he was going.

"So how's your armour coming along?" I asked him, paw scratching at my armour again. My chest was itching, as well as my arms and my back and my tail, but found it far more relieving to scratch at something rather than nothing at all.

"I've got it mostly figured out," he said. "Though it looks like a brand new set of armour, most of its components were taken from the T-51d's, but improved upon. It shouldn't be too difficult, I don't think, to apply those principles to my own armour. It would be nice not having to squeeze into Recon Armour before donning the Power Armour, though undoubtedly something would have to be worn underneath, at least to prevent chafing. I don't know if this new armour has been tested, so it could not work at all."

I just shrugged.

"Stop scratching," said the tiger, looking down at me. "After we eat, I'll change your bandages then I think we should rest. Okay?"

I nodded, just as we reached the common hall. There were dozens of people here, Scribes, Knights and Paladins, all of them sitting at round tables neatly organized into fifteen-or-so rows, if you could even call them rows. At the furthest end, some were gathering their food onto metal trays, and much to my surprise there was a functioning Nuka-Cola machine. My mouth began to water, and I nearly crashed over several chairs and Brothers and tables as I pushed my way toward it. There were other vending machines available, too, plus I think a chef was cooking up just about any variety of meat he could find, be it mirelurk or molerat. Frankly, I was happier not knowing.

As Lloyd busied himself with the chef and those vending machines, I dug my finger into the coin slot of the Nuka machine out of habit, looking for caps. When I was left with nothing, I searched the open dispenser next to the coin slot to see if a bottle had fallen, but of course one hadn't. So instead I yanked on the front, but it wouldn't budge. I smacked the damn machine, but it just buzzed fluorescently at me. I growled, then turned to Lloyd, who thankfully was walking toward me now.

"Hey," I said, "this piece of junk won't work."

Lloyd half-smiled, then nodded toward a table at the far end of the common room. "Let's sit, then I'll get you a Nuka-Cola."

"You're damn right," I muttered. I could almost taste that sugary, bubbly elixir on my tongue, wanting one now more than ever. Now I knew how Lloyd felt, being so close to his target and yet so painfully far away.

When at last we sat, Lloyd left and I saw a couple steamy kabobs of questionable origin, a few cans of food I didn't recognize, two bottles of water and what could have been bread, though it looked stale and old. Luckily, it hadn't grown any mold with eyes or teeth or anything. After poking my food with an old bent fork for a moment, Lloyd returned with a surprisingly cold Nuka-Cola, sliding it across the table toward me. My mouth watered again, and I was quick to pop off the top, loving the sound of carbonation. I promptly pocketed the cap and drank, guzzling the icy drink as long as I could before the bubbles began to burn my throat, and I promptly slammed the glass bottle down and smacked my lips. I burped uncouthly seconds later.

"God that's good," I said, still gripping the bottle. It didn't surprise me the Brotherhood of Steel, with so many Scribes about, had a functioning refrigerator, or a functioning Nuka-Cola machine or wherever else Lloyd could have gotten the drink from. This certainly made up for their rudeness toward me, or at least marginally so.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Lloyd ripping some dark, crispy meat off the skewer, and I pushed thoughts of what sort of meat it was aside as I ate, too. It wasn't a bad taste, not entirely, but it sure wasn't the best thing I'd ever eaten. Of course, it was far from the worst. But with it and the reasonable bread, which had a bit of sweetness to it, it filled me up easily, something of a rarity for me.

"I want you to try this," said Lloyd with a bit of a sly grin. He slid a rather plain can toward me with a strange picture of...something on it. I was dubious, especially since half the label had at some point been torn off.

"What is it..?"

"Clams."

I frowned. "Cram? Pff. Big deal. What's so special about Cram?"

"No, clams. I would have thought you'd know what clams are."

I glanced at the tiger incredulously. "Clams," I repeated, claw tink_ing the tab. "Well what the hell's so special about _clams?" I pried open the top and took a careful whiff, and whatever these things were reeked of brine, which wasn't always a bad thing. Means it would have been well-preserved, unlike most things in the Wasteland. "What, do I just eat it?"

Lloyd didn't say anything, but just grinned at me. I think he assumed I would like it, or something. I frowned at him and dug into the can, pulling out a so-called clam. It was slimy and wet, and smelled like a mirelurk, but I presumed Lloyd wouldn't let me eat it if he thought it'd kill me. And so in just a second, I popped the thing in my mouth.

To describe it simply, it tasted like salty rubber. I gave it another horrid chew, though, then another, then found my paws were shaking. In just a second, I spat the briny piece of brown rubber out, spewing it onto the vacant side of our table and snarling at the fishy taste stuck to my tongue. A cold finger crawled up my spine and I immediately grabbed my Nuka-Cola, finishing the rest off as quickly as I could, though a bit of the clam taste still remained.

"Ugh," I groaned, shuddering again. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yelled. Lloyd had been laughing, and was clearly trying not to laugh some more. For now he just smiled at me, his teeth showing like he could barely contain it. I wanted to hit him, but instead knocked the can of clams away. "That...well it's not the worst thing I've eaten, but it's fucking up there. You asshole."

Lloyd laughed again and reached across the table to hold my paw, the one that'd batted the clams away. "I'm sorry," he said happily. "I really thought you'd like them."

"Why the fuck did you think I'd like those?"

Lloyd shrugged. "Every otter I've ever met loves clams. They said they used to eat them straight from the shell, from the ocean, when they could find them. I don't imagine there are many wild clams around anymore that're safe to eat."

"So instead you feed me two-hundred year old clams? I'm not a fucking sea otter." I was a river otter, and damn proud of it.

"It was worth a try," shrugged the tiger, who smiled at me again. I was quick to crack open my bottle of purified water and down that, too, though the faintest rubbery aftertaste still lingered, plus my fingers smelled briny. I shuddered once more as I slammed the water bottle down, then finished it off when I caught a breath. I then began to scratch at the armour plate against my chest, still irritated by my burns.

"We should dress those wounds," suggested Lloyd, which he'd been saying practically all day. The tiger quickly stood up, took my tray and threw it and his on the top of some large metallic receptacle, then as quickly as we'd gotten here, we were off once more. I followed him again with no clue as to where I was going, though I was starting to recognize a few signs here and there. In a few short minutes, I smelled the foul stench of sterility, the smell of a Wasteland infirmary.

Immediately it made my stomach roil, the fine mixture of blood, pain and antiseptic. I didn't like this place, I never did, and would always avoid the doctor if possible. The last time I saw one, a big fucking tiger had nearly broken my spine. Fortunately Lloyd would be taking care of me, which meant I would keep all my limbs and suffer very little. And also keep the few caps I had. Trading with doctors was probably one of the most frustrating things to do, since they rarely had need for weapons or ammo. They all accept caps, though, but some feel they deserve far more than they've actually earned. I couldn't imagine what a Brotherhood doctor would be like, considering their Scribes were twice as haughty as a regular Wasteland doctor.

"Well, well," said an old voice, which came from behind a thin foldable wall. "Another patient. I swear, if I have to patch up one more laser burn, I'll..." The small, crotchety old Toller appeared suddenly, shocked to see Lloyd standing before him. "Commander," he commented in partial surprise, staring up at the tiger.

"Doctor Tanning." Lloyd smiled at the old dog.

The Toller had relatively dark fur for his breed, a brilliant coat of coppery red with a white-furred chest. His paws and footpaws were white as well, and on his snout he had only a small dash of the white, as well as a spot on his forehead. He looked old and weathered, but still strong for his age. The dog gave Lloyd a half smile in return, then patted him on the arm. "It's good to see you. You've kept yourself in good health, I see. Glad to see at least you remembered my lessons." Doctor Tanning was wearing a shockingly clean white lab coat, with a pair of shorts and a normal, dark-coloured shirt underneath, probably to more easily hide the stains. From his neck he wore his holotags, which of course told me he was one of the Brotherhood Scribes, rather than a contracted Wasteland doctor. "And after all this time, you came back to see me, of all people. Who's your friend?"

"James Grayson," Lloyd answered this time. "I just came to help him with his wounds. He has some serious plasma burns, though nothing time won't heal. His been trying to scratch them."

Tanning chuckled quietly, then turned to let us in. Past the small waiting room, which was less a room and more just partitioned off by those foldable walls, was a larger part of the room which may or may not have been a locker room at some point, it was hard to tell. Either way, there were a bunch of lockers and even more beds laid out, only a few occupied. There was two operating rooms, again just partitioned off rather than separate rooms, at the far end, and other tables and instruments divided into rooms by curtains and thin walls, a couple of them made from rusty old sheet metal. We were led to the one furthest from the operating rooms, which was thankfully devoid of blood and guts and bones, and whatever else I'd come to expect to see in a doctor's office.

"Thank you," said Lloyd, just as my paw twitched in an effort to prevent myself from scratching my arms.

"I assume you don't want this old Toller's help, hm?"

The tiger smiled at the old dog. "He just needs a few bandages changed, I think I can handle this one."

"Well just holler if you need anything. Y'know, back when I was just starting off here, our Knights and Paladins would come to me with all sorts of injuries. These days, our Scribes hurt them_selves_ more than anything, and our soldiers rarely see me. If it wasn't for your friend James, it would have been nearly six months since I last saw a Paladin in here. Anyway, don't let me distract you any further, Lloyd, or your friend will never even see those bandages. Take care, my friend."

"You too," replied the tiger with a nod. A second later, the Toller whipped the curtain closed and the two of us were alone. Lloyd immediately went to a cabinet and pulled out a few rolls of bandages and another bottle of that clear antiseptic he claimed was alcohol. I was still somewhat dubious, but I figured he knew what he was doing. When he had everything ready to go, he glanced at me in anticipation of something. He wanted me to undress.

"Okay," I said grudgingly, despite Lloyd having said nothing. In a few short minutes, I was stripped down to nothing at all. In just as much time, give or take, Lloyd had my bandages in tatters on the floor, having the luxury of scissors this time around. I glanced at myself in the tall mirror next to a shelf, shocked to see how much of my fur was actually missing, and the redness of my skin. My heart sank and I cringed at the sight, only just now seeing myself for the first time since the injury. Though Lloyd had already seen me naked, plus more, I felt doubly so standing in that room with half my fur gone. I started to blush when Lloyd turned to gather other supplies, cowering slightly when he turned back to face me.

"What is it?" he asked, holding the alcohol in one paw and a white cloth in the other. I hated that stuff, so hopefully he'd think I was shying away from that instead of being embarrassed by my horrid nakedness.

"Nothing," I said, arms crossed against my chest - my mostly furred chest, thankfully - and paws gripping my shoulders.

Lloyd knew it wasn't nothing.

I took a quick look at myself again, glancing at my bare right arm, and my half-bare left arm, and a few patches on my sides, my belly, and a bit on the right side of my chest. My legs were in nasty shape, too, mostly on my right side where the plasma mine had gone off. I shuddered and looked away. "I'm ugly," I said, eyes closed. Most Wastelanders don't give two shits what they look like, and though I was never particularly concerned about it, I never imagined I'd have to walk around without any fur. If it wasn't for those bandages, I would have nothing to cover my red, scabby skin up with. I looked worse than a Ghoul, or at least that was how I felt. Deep down I knew I was being ridiculous, but I was shocked to see so much fur missing.

Lloyd stepped closer and put the bottle and cloth down on the table. "You're being silly," he said rather bluntly. When I thought about it, Lloyd and I hadn't slept together when I wasn't bandaged, and he'd only seen me prior to dressing the wounds. And it was always dark, or at least dim, but in the harsh, bright lights of the Brotherhood infirmary, it seemed as if the tiger noticed every disgusting sore and abnormality I had. When he took another step closer, I backed away.

I'd burned myself before, and even with a large patch of fur missing, I never cared who saw it. I almost wore it as a badge of honour, as if to show the world I was dangerous and I could handle it. And beside the fact that my current injuries were far worse than a common laser burn, I didn't want Lloyd seeing them. Anyone else, I wouldn't care half so much as I did with him. He was the only fur who mattered to me, and as much as I didn't want to admit it, I cared what he thought about me.

Lloyd sighed. No doubt he was unused to dealing with such a thing, more especially from other guys. I quickly began to realize how silly I was being, how weak I sounded. When we first met, I had balls enough to try robbing the giant monster, and now I was afraid to show him my naked body. I bit my lip and loosened my grip, sighing heavily. At last I let my arms drop, blush flowing into my face like a torrent.

"You aren't ugly," the tiger claimed. "They're just burns, James. Some of them...yeah, some parts will scar, but largely you'll get your fur back. I told you that."

"I know," I sighed. They were itching as terribly as ever. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

Lloyd rolled his eyes, though to his credit he did it subtly. "I've already seen you naked, several times. Besides, I've seen far worse injuries than yours, believe it or not. I can handle seeing some burns."

"You stupid, fucking tiger," I said, stepping close to him and putting my paws on his chest. I rested the side of my face between my paws and let him put his paws around my back. He held me gently, careful not to disturb my wounds. Clearly Lloyd didn't understand my problem with him looking at me, all furless and gross, but I was willing to let it slide.

He kissed me on the top of my head, and I felt even warmer than before. It was hard to believe someone so sweet (and so deadly) could also sometimes be so dense. He knew more about medicine and technology than I could ever learn in a lifetime, but when it came to this sort of thing, about relationships and how to handle silly little otters like me, he was pretty dumb. And yet I loved him all the same.

"Let's get this over with," I finally said, giving the alcohol a sour look.

Lloyd nodded. "I don't get what the big deal is," he said as he soaked the cloth. Immediately he pressed it into my red skin and I was graced with an icy pain I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get used to. But like usual I endured, and in just a short while, my wounds were as clean as they were going to get. Using the new bandages, he dressed my gunshot wound, wrapped up my arms, my chest, my legs and my tail, and examined the hole between my toes. After cleaning it out and confirming it was healing well, he wrapped up my footpaw and at last was done with it. He seemed to get faster at it every time.

"Thanks," I said, blushing still. I hoped sometime in the near future, Lloyd touching me would cease to make me blush, or at least not blush so damn much. I didn't mind a little bit, but so far it was either a ton or not at all. I sighed quietly and rubbed the back of my neck, then suddenly yawned aloud.

Lloyd just smiled, and stared at my smooth, naked body. He would have been bordering on creepy if he was anyone else, but thankfully he was Lloyd, and I kind of liked it. With my naked skin all wrapped up, I felt less self-conscious and ugly, and gave the gawking tiger a bit of a show. Nothing terribly exciting, just a twist of my hips and arms stretched upward. I could feel his gleaming eyes covering my lithe figure, devouring me. I just laughed and let my arms drop, then felt another yawn slowly creep up on me.

"It's been a long day," stated the tiger, bending down to both sweep away the blood-stained, scab-encrusted bandages and pick up my gear. He placed my gun belts on the table, as well as the armour plates. "Should I show you to your room?"

"I get my own room?" I asked, surprised. I was hoping to share one with Lloyd, but I already saw he had to share it with a few other Brothers, too.

"No," he laughed, handing me the bottom part of my Combat Armour. I slipped into them easily, though careful not to shift my new bandages around. Next I strapped on my gun belts, and decided since we were safe in the Dome, I didn't need to attach the ceramic, polymer plates. Instead Lloyd carried them for me, which was a sweet gesture.

When we were all set, I swung open the curtain with a loud and oddly satisfying swoosh, and Lloyd said his farewells to Doctor Tanning. We traversed the corridors quickly, past numerous Brotherhood of Steel Scribes and Knights, though admittedly some of them could have been Paladins. They seemed to ignore us, thank god, especially since I was walking around without a top on. Half these guys wore their precious robes, while the other half were either armoured or close to it. Despite the fact they weren't looking at us, or at me, I still felt their resentment. I was willing to bet many and more of them were Outsiders, but apparently you forget your roots when you join the Brotherhood. Suppose if they decided to let me join their pretty little club, they'd accept my presence with a bit more warmth.

Having said that, dumb old Lloyd showed me to one of the several main sleeping quarters for the Brotherhood Knights, which I feel I should point out is several ranks below Paladins. Nevertheless, after gathering my things - the stupidly large Fat Man included - Lloyd showed me exactly which bed was mine, and where I'd be sleeping for the duration of our stay here. Since the sun was starting to go down, both his bedchambers and mine were filled with furs, many of them either undressed or getting that way. He showed me which locker belonged to me, or rather, to my bed, and where I could store my things. Each bed, which was more cot than bed, had a fair-sized footlocker at its end, and a small shelf with a lamp on it.

Since Fat Man would fit in neither the locker nor the footlocker, I decided instead to just keep it half under my bed, as hidden as I could make it. I put my 10mm and my plasma pistol in the footlocker, and the rest of my combat armour in the locker - Lucky would stay with me. I shifted uncomfortably for a moment, starting to feel the firmness of my combat webbing the more tired I got.

"Is there anything comfortable to wear around here?" I asked Lloyd, scratching slightly at my thighs. Unfortunately what I actually wanted to scratch was hidden beneath a layer of bandages and some strange bullet-resistant material.

The tiger nodded, then disappeared for a few minutes. More people were coming than going at this point, most of them un-armoured and looking oddly casual. None of them paid any attention to me and my awkwardness sitting on my bed. A small group of them were chatting, while others either changed or lay back on their beds. Some read old burned books, with varying degrees of burnt, while others seemed to just stare into space. Perhaps without my armour on, or maybe them without theirs, I looked more like a member of the Brotherhood of Steel than any of them would have liked, though I was the only one without holotags. It was much easier to see just how normal they all were without their big scary metal armour, so fragile and fleshy like me. But I was probably the only one who saw them that way.

When at last Lloyd returned, he handed me a small bundle of clothes, folded neatly. It was all an olive drab colour, like what the other Knights were now wearing, but despite the fact he'd clearly just taken it from some storeroom, I appreciated it all the same. "Thank you," I said, giving the big monster tiger a gentle smile.

"Sleep well," he replied, giving me a quick nod and took his leave. I sighed quietly and got up, pulling down my form-fitting pants before more than a dozen strangers, not feeling a single eye upon me. I then pulled on my top, which fit quite well, and the small shorts with a single-button fly that came with it. Brotherhood Underwear, I imagined. The shorts were loose, and the shirt came down to the very top of the elastic waist. It was a v-neck top, olive drab with short sleeves that just barely reached my biceps. It fit snug, but not tight, and complimented the greyish shorts well. All-in-all, very simple, but quite comfortable. I would have to make a point of stealing these, that is if I survived the attack on Union.

As the lights slowly began to go out, someone suddenly shouted "lights out," and that was that. I laid back on the almost comfortable bed, sighing heavily as the last of the lights flicked off. I could hear only the faint sound of Knights shifting, but otherwise all was silent. Yet while they dozed off, I found myself wide awake.

I wasn't used to an indoor setting, for one thing, nor a bed for another. But what bothered me most was being around so many people. I didn't know any of them, and I wasn't sure if they truly knew I was here. And while that sounded like a good thing, it was for some reason profoundly disturbing. I didn't know what they were thinking, if anything at all, and began to realize there was no way in hell they didn't notice me; I was a stranger to them, too, after all, and how often did a Paladin Commander see them in their bedchambers? They would have noticed Lloyd without a doubt, and consequently me. And yet none of them said anything to me, despite the tension I'd been feeling the entire time I was here. If they did know I was here - and I wish I knew the truth of it - why weren't they saying anything to me now? Threatening me, or otherwise making me uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable now.

I sighed again and turned onto my side. I didn't like this place, these people. They were strangers, and strangers wanted you dead. Perhaps they were plotting, or waiting for a moment. Perhaps they were luring me in with a false sense of security. Naturally I thought most of these possibilities were either paranoia or instinct, neither of which was helping me get to sleep. And yet every time someone shifted or moved, my eyes shot open and I listened so intently to what they were (or weren't) doing, I could almost hear my own heartbeat.

God damn it, I thought to myself, shifting to my other side. My burns were itching again, and while my paw twitched in resistance to scratching, I was able to hold off. Someone suddenly moved again, this time a lot, and I stayed absolutely, perfectly still, like a defunct Protectron. Nothing, I told myself, irritated by my stupid behaviour. I sighed once more and closed my eyes.

And yet no matter how long I lay there, sleep just wouldn't come to me. I tossed and I turned, and I scratched and stopped scratching, cursed quietly and silently, eyes heavy and sore with exhaustion. My eyes were open again and I looked about, but no one was there, or at least no one walking around or standing next to me. A sudden image of Lloyd popped into my head, him standing in the Wasteland with just his tank top and shorts on, plus his bag and holstered weapon. He looked old, and he looked tired, and fatter than most living furs. And yet his arms were impossibly muscular, and his shoulders and most notably his chest. He would have been an unbelievable, handsome powerhouse back in the day, but age and the Wasteland had done his stomach and his face no favours. Yet I clung to that image, caressed it and loved it. He was over twice my age, yes, and it showed, and yet...

I shook my head and turned once more, growling silently to myself. I kept my eyes closed in hopes sleep would find me, and though my body surged with exhaustion, I remained awake. My finger tapped at the side of the bed, and I turned over again. Even on rocks, sleep would eventually find me. It seemed the more I thought about the fact I couldn't sleep, the harder it became. I felt like something was missing, a strange sinking feeling in my stomach. I longed for something I didn't have, and suddenly remembered the last time I felt this way: the night after losing Chase.

It was impossible to sleep then, too, having no one left to keep me warm. But more than that, I had no guide or no protector. Chase meant everything to me, and all I had left of him was my earring, my bag, and a beaded anklet with a cross, which used to be his necklace. I shook my footpaw to remind myself it was still there, and brushed my ear gently against the pillow. I sighed quietly, turned again, and idly scratched at a burn. To stop myself, I put my paw on my chest and listened to my heavy heartbeats. I wanted so badly to lie with Chase again, or better yet, with Paladin Commander Lloyd Thompson, the big, asshole tiger who once assaulted me with a pipe. Instead I turned in bed and curled up tight, oddly alone in the roomful of strangers.

After a couple long, sleepless hours (or so it felt), when I sat up for about the hundredth time that night, I felt a cold chill run up my spine and I slowly turned to suddenly see an enormous dark figure standing before me. I would have shit myself had I enough food in my bowels, and thankfully his big strong paw covered my maw well enough to muffle my sudden cry; the Knights would continue to sleep. I'd have bitten the dark figure, too, if I hadn't smelled him first. The scent was familiar and intoxicating, and it made me supremely happy.

"Lloyd," I said quietly. "What the hell're you doing here?" I could barely keep my eyes open from lack of sleep, despite it hadn't found me yet.

The tiger paused before answering. "I couldn't sleep."

In just a few short, quick moments, I was out of my bed and following the big tiger through the dimly lit corridors of a sleepy Dome, until we were outside and skulking across the rubble-cleared sidewalk. At first I thought he was taking me to the Tower, but we ran past it (and past the guards) and made our way toward a long covered bridge.

The bridge which, if my sense of direction was to be trusted, was east of the Dome, and looked as if it'd been shattered and ruined, though since rebuilt. It was a ramshackle bridge now, with a sheet metal floor, concrete sides and a pitiful excuse for a covering. But it let the pale moonlight in, and in a slight arc passed over a wide canal of train tracks. I didn't look down long enough to count the number of tracks, but in its day it looked as if as many as eight (at least) trains could pass each other comfortably. The tracks seemed to stretch to either ends of the city, though of course the westbound tracks were blocked by Ronto's Wall. It was a strangely pretty sight, considering I didn't much care for city life, with the collapsed buildings and piles of rubble. Somehow, against all odds, the moon was piercing all the clouds and radiation that night, making the old, rusted tracks...well not glimmer, but still appear more scenic than anything else you're like to see.

"What is this?" I asked Lloyd, my paw finding his. He held on without hesitation.

"These tracks lead straight to Union," said the tiger. He looked horribly exhausted. "And this tunnel...it once connected to another tunnel leading straight into Union, but it's long since collapsed. But if you look, you can see Union from here, though it doesn't look like much from behind."

I looked, and didn't see anything that didn't blend into Ronto's ruined background.

"I know he's in there," said the tiger. If I had to guess, I'd say Lloyd had been up all night, consumed by thoughts of frustration and revenge. "He's in there, and he's laughing."

My heart went out for Lloyd, but with my body and mind equally tired, I wasn't sure I could put up with more of Lloyd's cursing. So in a move bolder than anything I'd ever attempted before, I gripped the tiger's paw firmly and made him face me. I put my other paw on his shoulder and forced him to bend forward, then I kissed him on the lips.

Lloyd thankfully kissed back, even sneaking his tongue in a few times to send a shiver up my spine. But as quickly as it'd started, it was over. Lloyd has his arms around me now, drawn close to his body. It was then I realized he hadn't put a shirt on, and was wearing only the same style shorts I was. I began to blush.

"You did that to shut me up," stated Lloyd. His tone left no room for argument.

" And it almost worked, too." I smiled and kissed him again, more like a soft peck. I then gave the brute a squeeze, and sighed heavily as my body melted against his. "We're going to get him," I said, looking up at him once more. "We'll get in there and take him out, and that'll be the end of the Automatons, and the end of your nightmares. I promise." When I thought about it, perhaps I'd stop having those dreams about my burning parents, the dark shadows and my golden behemoth, too.

Lloyd didn't say much else after that, but he did give me a squeeze hard enough to pop the heads of lesser furs, but I was used to them by now. His paws ran up and down my back, and soon my shirt was off. I could feel heat from within his shorts, about as prominent as the heat in mine. Soon we were both nude, save my bandages, and as I got to the cold, hard floor of the so-called Skybridge, the tiger stroked my thick, streamlined tail with the utmost care.

I moaned softly beneath the moon and stars as his paw went over the length of my tail once more, and before long, I was on my back. We were both hard and eager for more, and my monster tiger was happy to oblige. He was perhaps a bit rougher with me than he had been before, perhaps inadvertent venting of his frustration, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. When we were both finished up, we bathed in the moonlight and glow of passionate sex, panting and myself blushing hard. Soon I found myself scooped up in the behemoth's arms, and at long last we both found the sleep we'd been desperately looking for.

The next morning came quickly. The sun rose, piercing the greenish morning haze to wake up the rest of the city. The Brotherhood of Steel were some of the first out and about, patrolling their Dome and their Tower, changing shifts with the night Brothers who guarded the walls. It was all fairly standard, said Lloyd, though it was still interesting to watch. By the time he and I made our way back to the Dome, the enormous complex was bustling. I watched them train in the field with laser pistols, while Ronto's military performed similar exercises with more conventional weapons, mostly hunting and assault rifles.

Fortunately Lloyd had brought me some food while I watched the others train, wondering to myself if I had what it took to join either group. Everything looked simple enough, though shooting guns was hardly complicated. They were all pretty good shots, probably better than me.

After eating our food, Lloyd and I watched the others for a while before he decided to work on his armour some more. It was interesting to watch him at first, his deft hands working with such small components, but seeing as I knew next to nothing about technology - especially advanced technology - my interest was held for only so long. So after an hour or so of watching the tiger ignore me and fix his gear, I questioned other Scribes in the early morning, but they were in even less of a mood to talk to me than they had been yesterday.

So instead of hanging around the workshop with a busy Lloyd and asshole Scribes, I wandered around on my own, trusting my own sense of direction to find my way back. At first I wandered the Dome, discovering nothing I hadn't seen yet already. The Brotherhood, naturally, gave me odd looks, probably because I hadn't yet changed as I wandered about. I passed the infirmary, the barracks (several times, not on purpose), the common hall, and even a small gym, where some of the Brotherhood's biggest jerks hung out.

Soon, though, I even bored of the Dome, and decided to grab my gear - I left my armour behind - and head for the Tower. Unfortunately they wouldn't let me up, especially because I didn't have any holotags, but even if I did only the higher ranking officers were allowed free access. I swore at them a few times, when they were out of earshot, and looked about the city.

For now, while the sun was high in the sky, I decided to explore Ronto a little more. I headed to the Skybridge and made my way into a building connecting to it, passing through its ruined halls with relative ease - the Brotherhood had several blockades along the way, to protect their little corner of the city. But they let me through easily enough.

As it turned out, the streets of Ronto were fairly boring. The buildings were tall and intimidating, most of them in some form of ruin, but for the most part still stood strong. There were very few people on the streets, though there were plenty of military men patrolling. I was accosted several times, and after the fifth made my way back to the Dome. I told Lloyd about it that night, and he decided I needed proof I was with the Brotherhood.

The following day, Lloyd took me to their library and records, which was a surprisingly small room with several computers and a few bookshelves. It was run by Scribe Chapman, a female weasel who was shorter than I was. She was younger than Lloyd, and though she wore the same robes as every other Scribe, it seemed when we saw her, she didn't feel like putting them on. She wasn't naked, of course, but instead wore the dark crimson pants they apparently wore under their robes, and a plain white tank top which showed a smooth, thin figure not unlike my own. She called me handsome several times during our meeting, but at last she made what Lloyd had taken me here for: a set of holotags.

He must have told me half a dozen times this didn't make me a member of the Brotherhood of Steel ,which was good because I didn't want to join, but it would be enough so I wouldn't get bothered by anyone. I put them on immediately and stared at the tiny glowing spot as if I could read it, but instead it just left spots in my vision. And so while Lloyd went back to his armour, I explored the city a bit more thoroughly.

As predicted, though, there was nothing of particular interest, but at least this time around I was wearing proper clothes - sandy-coloured cargo pants, a similar tank top to Scribe Chapman's, and of course my coveted bandana. I rarely took my anklet off, but I shook my footpaw just to be sure. I also equipped all three of my guns, just in case, and took my bag. Around my neck hung my holotags, which didn't state a rank, but did ally me with the Brotherhood.

Anyway, I got bothered only a few times, but I was able to free myself of the Military's tiny inquisition with much greater ease, allowing me more freedom of the city. The streets were less uninhabited the closer toward the downtown area I got, and I passed dozens of establishments, more than half offering booze. Some of them had prostitutes hanging outside, most of them there to offer services to the Military, and even before noon some of them had already been busy. I was solicited a few times, and as tempting as it was, I had to decline. At least they were young, though, and not bad to look at.

I discovered a few gunshops and general stores, which after getting a shot of morning whiskey from a place called Swann's, I visited eagerly. The gunshops didn't have anything I was interested in, nor anything I wanted to trade my 10mm for, though not for lack of trying on the proprietor's part. The general store, too, didn't have much I needed or wanted, knowing most of the stuff they had - which was mostly junk - I could either get back at the Dome or I already had.

Upon my travels, my heart skipped a beat when I spied a small group of Automatons. I froze instantly, but didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I continued along cautiously. When I suddenly made eye contact with one of them, my paw twitched as I resisted the urge to hold the grip of my plasma pistol, but soon realized they had no idea who I was. Either that, or the three of them were just far more interested in the small female bunny's services whom they were currently seeking.

Soon after the group went inside the Lucky Red Caps with their consort, I looked around and saw at least two Ronto guards at every corner, always in pairs, and several more walking around. Even if the Automatons had recognized me, they would have to be stupid to start something. I at last relaxed, and continued with my exploration until even that grew tiresome.

The rest of the week continued on in much the same manner. Lloyd still hadn't heard from Elder Tarle, and I could tell he was growing anxious. Thankfully I hadn't run into Scribe Aldebourne, since I imagined he would be none too pleased about handing over his resurrected train. Despite telling Lloyd to just go ask them, he assured me it would be pointless. Of course, all of that just meant he buried himself deeper in his work, ignoring me for the greater part of every day. And so I was left to my own devices.

I explored the Dome as much as I could without getting myself into trouble, and even attempted the Tower a few more times to demand a response from Tarle, but it was no good. Even the enormous city held no more secrets from me, as I'd explored what I felt was a great portion of it. Of course I avoided Union, admittedly too paranoid to venture close enough where I'd be shot upon. But the rest of the city was more or less open to me, and I enjoyed trying a new bar or two each day.

The best I found was a place called Yonge Pup, which was surprisingly clean and didn't water down their booze. I'd spent several days there, wasting what little caps I had on some of the best whiskey I'd ever drank, and boy was it worth it. I got drunk after only a few shots, and after a few more I was nearly tempted to buy myself a whore. They had a few to choose from, dressed nicely with no missing teeth or body parts (except the Ghoul), both male and female. While drunk I nearly purchased myself a nice looking female ferret for the evening, but before my inebriated self realized what I was doing, I found I hadn't enough caps.

The next day, which marked one week since arriving in Ronto, Lloyd announced rather loudly he had finished his armour. I promptly threw up, and shrank back into my bed at the tiger's disappointed look. When I was well enough to listen to him, a metal cup of hot coffee between my paws and a spent Med-X beside me, he told me he'd stayed up the entire night finishing it, and it was finally done. I could tell from his bedraggled fur and exhausted eyes he hadn't slept, but I was happy for him all the same.

"Do you want to see it?" he asked me, a smile on his face.

I had to admit, I was very curious to see how he would fit into a suit of power armour, though I imagined they had made one just for him. "Sure," I rasped, the taste of burnt coffee and stale vomit still strong on my tongue. I got up and staggered after Lloyd as he led me to the workshop, to his table in the corner with bits of scrap metal, electronics, and other mechanics I couldn't name sprawled all over the place. Certainly his table was the most unkempt, but he worked fast. When I managed to look around, the one Scribe was still working on his laser rifle, though the Scribe himself was not yet here.

"Neat," I said woozily, looking back at his armour. It looked like the same metallic mess it was before, with only a few noticeable differences. The chest plates were slightly smoother and rounder, and had a few welding scars in them, no doubt from the tiger having to put it back together again. Evidently, his power armour was still made out of metal, unlike the new one he'd found, but probably the innards of it was totally different. His chest plate still had the handle, which would make carrying it much easier. The shoulder parts looked a bit smoother, too, though it was hard to compare when both armours looked like rotten messes.

"Are you gonna try it on?" I asked, taking a sip of the coffee. It really was horrid stuff, but it seemed to help. "How do you know it all works?"

"I've tried pieces of it, mostly the joints so far, but not all together. I'm confident they'll all work."

My head was pounding. "Don't you think you should test that before Tarle gets back to you? What on earth is taking him so long, anyway?"

The tiger shrugged, then started to gather his things. It was difficult to discern between old, new, and scrap pieces, but Lloyd was sorting through it deftly. If the workbench lights weren't blinding me and making my hangover ten times worse, it might've been an easier task. Suddenly my stomach began to roil, but I managed to keep it down. I groaned loudly, holding onto the tiger's arm for support.

"Hope that taught you a lesson," was all he had to say to that.

"Fuck you," I barked, finally able to stand up straight again. Well, relatively straight. "So are you going to try it all on, or what?"

Before I could get my answer, though, a young Scribe came rushing in, a nervous look on his face. "Commander?" he said, stepping forward. "E-Elder Tarle...requests your presence, sir."

"Did he say what it's about?" asked Lloyd, though I had a pretty good idea.

"He wouldn't say, sir. He and the Council wish to speak to you immediately."

"Thank you." And as quickly as the Scribe had come, Lloyd was off, myself trailing behind as best I could. I stumbled through the corridors after the tiger, until Ronto's fresh air filled my lungs. Instead of making me vomit, however, it seemed to give me a moment of clarity, enough, at any rate, to let me follow Lloyd across the courtyard toward the Tower in a reasonably straight line. I spilled half my rancid coffee in my haste to follow the tiger, but when we got into the Tower's elevator, I got a moment to finish it off. For now I balanced the cup on the metal railing; I'd pick it up again on our way down.

When at last we reached the Pod, Lloyd quickly greeted a few guards with myself in tow, until we finally reached the upper pod, the Brotherhood's main command centre. Within sat Elder Tarle, while beside him stood a rather displeased Scribe Aldebourne, plus one other I didn't recognize. He looked tough, though, a lion with several scars on his face, and power armour that looked about as damaged and rebuilt as he did. The lion had a helmet, too, which he was just holding for now.

"Paladin Commander," greeted the Elder in his deep, powerful voice. "We have discussed your situation with the Automatons, and came to a conclusion on how you should proceed. And...unfortunately you must proceed. We have been informed by one of them...they know you belong to the Brotherhood, Lloyd."

"You're the reason why they've been bulking their numbers," snarled Aldebourne, pointing his finger. "Frost has been preparing for a war, one the Brotherhood can't afford to get involved in."

"Quiet, Aldebourne," boomed the mighty bear. "The Automatons have been a plague on us and the Wasteland since they first formed. This war has been building for years, and would have no doubt boiled over if not for Ronto's power. But it would seem City Hall is now aware of your activities these past twelve years, Paladin Commander, and have threatened us to stop."

"Why the hell does Ronto care what happens outside their city?" I asked, completely out of line. If looks could kill, I'd have been dead four times just now.

"They don't care one bit what happens outside their walls," answered the lion, whose name I still didn't know. I presumed he was a Head Paladin, like Aldebourne was the Head Scribe. "But with Commander Thompson inside their walls, tension has quickly risen. Frost informed City Hall of all this, and while they can overpower either of us, a war between the Brotherhood and the Automatons would still wreak enormous havoc upon their city."

"So...what do we do? We can't just do nothing." Lloyd's paws, I noticed, were clenching and unclenching with every breath.

"The Brotherhood of Steel cannot risk an open war with the Automatons," said Elder Tarle. "I promised I would help you, Lloyd, but as you surely understand, we need absolute deniability."

The tiger gritted his teeth. "So I'm no longer a member of the Brotherhood."

Elder Tarle lowered his head sullenly, while Aldebourne smirked gladly. If the lion was sorry to see Lloyd discharged, he showed no indication whatsoever.

"We have already told City Hall you are no longer a part of our ranks, and we will offer no help in your vendetta. However..." Tarle's pause was alarmingly long. "Frost denied any support from Ronto's Military."

"So he's expecting me, then."

Elder Tarle nodded carefully. "Frost is a coward, and will kill you on sight. You know this."

"So what are you saying..?"

"Aldebourne..."

"I'll give you my damn train," hissed the arctic fox. "You know I don't care for your ilk, but the Automatons..." Aldebourne just spat.

"Fraction?" Tarle said, turning to the lion.

Head Paladin Fraction stepped forward. "I will give you a small group of my best men," said the lion. His voice was deep and gravelly, though not so deep as the old bear's. "Should you accept them. The plan is relatively simple, though truly you may take any course you wish. Using the metro system, you will pile into the entrance north of here. You must go in unarmoured and unarmed, and enter from various points so as to not draw attention - disguised as Scribes may be your best option. When you have all gathered, walk along the northbound tracks thirty metres until you see a pair of red lights upon the walls. It should be well-lit, as Aldebourne has done most of his work there."

Lloyd nodded, listening intently to the lion's plans.

"One of Aldebourne's Scribes will show you how to operate the train, then take his leave. From there...you're essentially ramming the Automaton's underground fortifications. There is a path cleared that should lead you straight to Union's metro entrance. Attacking them thus will confuse and disorient them long enough to take out any of their guards, and you will have plenty of pulse grenades to handle any turrets or robots. Unfortunately, my men will follow you only until that point, they cannot enter Union with you. If even a small group of power armoured men show up, there will be no stopping a messenger from reaching Ronto's City Hall. We cannot have our men there should the Military show up. It is a great enough risk having you go in, but...we all agree, Frost must be taken out."

Lloyd nodded, agreeing most all with the last part.

Suddenly Elder Tarle cleared his throat, then shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "Lloyd," he said gravely, "you need to hand over our holotags. You may use your power armour, but your tags... Should you fail, you cannot be taken for one of our own, much as it pains me to strip you of all you have become."

"I understand," stated Lloyd rather formally, taking his holotags off slowly and purposefully. He handed them over to the old bear, and the bear shuffled uncomfortably again.

"Yes, well... That's that, I suppose. The Automaton presence in Ronto and the Wasteland have been a blight on this world and on the Brotherhood. They not only take and steal technology from whomever they please, but they also worship it, and put it on a pedestal much higher than themselves. They are an abomination. Machines, robots...they are tools, not gods. I know your stake in this is a personal one, Lloyd, but every one of your Brothers are behind you. It is unfortunate we cannot be behind you in person, but only in spirit. I pray it will be enough."

"Thank you, Elder, for everything. I will not fail in my mission. I have dealt the Automatons some crippling blows in my mission, but soon they will feel the absolute power behind my wrath. But ultimately, it is Frost I'm after. When I take him down, the rest will crumble. They put too much faith into their leader, and their false god Hyperion. Most will see him for the fleshy pile of filth he truly is, while others may still cling to their beliefs he is made of sterner stuff, that his electric soul will join the Great Mainframe... But it won't matter. Frost is all that matters."

Aldebourne rolled his eyes at Lloyd's little speech, while Tarle and Fraction remained stone. At last Elder Tarle gave Lloyd an affirming nod, and with that the tiger and I took our leave. He headed straight back to his new-made armour and gave it a long hard stare. He told me to get myself ready in any way I could, be it physically or mentally or even spiritually, because the next day blood and oil was going to run in the streets.

That night I found myself lying awake once more. I was thinking about home, and my parents, or adoptive parents, which was unusual for me. I remembered my swimming lessons again, how carefree I was, and innocent. Those were days I never cherished, and of course never appreciated until now. I walked into the Wasteland at age twelve, hating my parents for...some reason. For no reason. And I never looked back. Until now. Now that was all I could think about, my past. It was full of more bad memories than good ones, but I enjoyed them all the same.

I sighed heavily, turning onto my left side, where the burns weren't as bad. I scratched idly at my chest, rubbing the bandages through my white tank top, while my mind grabbed at some distant memory. I closed my eyes and tried to reach it, but my mind was muddled. I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling, scratching my belly now, which had been spared the plasma burns. A sudden memory came to me, perhaps the one I'd been grasping at.

I was a young otter, nine or ten years old. I'd worked hard in the fields and herding the brahmin and was finally able to rest. My body was hot and sweaty and tired, yet I felt fulfilled. A man came up to me, my father. My fake father, rather, who'd taken me in. He had a 10mm pistol in his paws - not my 10mm - and was staring long and hard at me. Then he smiled, and patted my back. Together, the elder otter and I went around to the back of the barn and I fired a gun for the very first time in my life. I missed the target by a long shot, but was at least able to hit the broad side of the barn. 10mm ammo was cheap, he said, so we could practice as long as I wanted. After two dozen shots, before the sun vanished, I was able to hit the target at least once, though it wasn't a bullseye.

Those were some of the better days.

When I decided to sit up in bed, staring at the slumbering soldiers all around me, I was reminded of a time our little farmstead was attacked by...raiders, I always assumed. Only once it'd ever happened, at least as far as I knew. It happened years before I'd ever shot that 10mm, when I was somewhere between five or six years old. It was only a group of four of five raiders, and though I was told to wait inside, I wasn't told I couldn't watch. The whole ordeal lasted only a few minutes, but in my mind, especially back then, it lasted a lifetime. That was when my parents lost Amon, their first mercenary. There was shouting and swearing, so much so my mother covered my ears. She tried to stop me from watching, too, but I struggled too much. Then in a moment, there were gunshots, more shouting, desperate cries and soon it was over. Amon was dead, my father shot, and five dead or dying raiders.

I smiled at that memory, though I couldn't say why. Then I got up and dragged my restless body outside, into the courtyard between the Dome and the Tower. It was surprisingly chilly out, though it didn't help I was wearing only those undershorts and a tank top. I recalled another memory of sitting by a fire as a child, with my parents, roasting radroach meat over the flames. The meat was terrible, yet somehow I enjoyed the smoky, crispy taste of it when the night air nipped at my nose. Then my father divided up a box of Gumdrops for us, giving me the extra. I had never tasted anything so sweet, nor so delicious in all my life (save, perhaps, for the CocoaMilk).

I sighed quietly as I kicked a small stone. Why was I having these memories now? Even the bad ones I recalled with a certain fondness. One year on the farm, we lost nearly all our brahmin from some bovine disease, then almost the rest from a single starved deathclaw. Even my favourite brahmin, who I'd named Moocow, hadn't been spared. At that point, it was probably the saddest thing that had ever happened to me. And yet when I remembered the blood and gore and oozing pus, I had to smile once again.

Oddly, I found myself slowly meandering toward the Skybridge, past the Tower, all these memories fluttering around. I had a small smile on my face, yet still wondered what had conjured them up. When I saw the back of Union emerge from behind the rubble of some nameless building, a hole suddenly opened up in my gut and I sank inside. I paused just before the Skybridge, my old childhood memories suddenly being pushed aside by the realization I was likely to die tomorrow.

"Fuck me," I said aloud, quietly to myself. I rubbed my belly beneath my shirt, trying futilely to ease my churning gut. Was this my life flashing before my eyes? Perhaps I'd seen so much in my lifetime, they had to get a head start before I took one too many laser bolts to the chest.

"James," a deep voice suddenly cracked, making me jump near as high as the Tower. My paw immediately shot down to my guns, which sadly I'd left in the barracks.

"What the fuck?" I gasped, watching Lloyd appear from the Skybridge. "You scared me fucking shitless." My heart was pounding.

"I came out here to think."

"Think about what?"

Lloyd shrugged. "About tomorrow, I suppose. You don't...have to come with me. This is my mission."

"Fuck you, 'I don't have to come.' We're in this together, Lloyd, whether you like it or not. Don't you worry, I won't kill Frost on you, but I will break his fucking legs."

Lloyd smiled and suddenly gave me a hug, which for some reason surprised me a little. It was a sweet hug, like it was going to be our last. I hugged him back, anyway, paws around his waist. There was a long pause after we broke away, both of us of the same mind. Our eyes met briefly, then lowered again.

"We gonna fucking die tomorrow?" I finally asked the tiger.

Lloyd shook his head, though he wasn't saying no. "It's...a distinct possibility," was all he said to reassure me. I sank a little more.

"There's no telling what we're like to encounter over there," he told me. "We know they are large in number, though just how large no one's certain. They'll have robots, of course, but we can prepare for that. We need to arm ourselves accordingly. We'll fortunately have the element of surprise, for all the good it'll do."

I sighed. "It's fucking bullshit," I said angrily. "The Brotherhood can so help us. Ronto's Military could help us even more."

"Ronto has no problems with the Automatons, and part of the pact the Brotherhood made with Ronto years before I joined their ranks was they would help keep the peace, and, to put it simply, not cause trouble. Ronto's Military is more than enough to evict us from their city, and if we put up a fight, that will surely be the end of our Chapter."

I sighed again. "Fucking bullshit," I said, frowning at the Tower. Or perhaps I was frowning at the whole city. "Even if we win, won't they know we were involved?"

"They'll know you and I were involved. They'll know the Brotherhood took no part in my attack. Frankly, if the fight is contained within Union, which had previously been abandoned before Frost came along, I don't think Ronto will care all too much if Frost dies. They're concerned more with their own citizens, their own men, and their own buildings."

"If we do take out Frost...what happens with the rest of them?"

Lloyd shrugged again. "They'll most likely flee, having no real leader."

"Well...what if they're allowed to go on? I mean...if you think about it, the Automatons aren't really that bad. They aren't all murderers. You're going after Frost, not them, y'know? I mean, maybe with a different leader, they can just continue to function normally, or at least like every other normal freak cult out there."

Lloyd regarded my opinion with frown and a grunt. I think he'd rather just kill every follower of Frost, his hate running deeper than I could imagine.

"I'm just saying. We don't necessarily have to kill all of them."

Lloyd grunted again. "There's only one I'm concerned with, but personally I'd be just as happy knowing they were gone altogether."

"Well whatever," I finally conceded. The moon was out, casting long black shadows across the city. Lloyd's fur looked particularly dull bathed in its light. But it was soft, and warm, and I pressed myself into him. "Tell me we're gonna get through this alive," I demanded softly.

Lloyd patted my back a few times before answering. "I can't promise you-"

"You don't have to promise me," I interrupted. "Just fucking tell me."

He sighed through his nose. "We're going to get through this alive," he said in a vaguely mocking tone.

"I hate you." I backed away from the tiger and took a long look at Union's back. I wondered how many Automatons were thinking about us, or about the Brotherhood, and whether or not they would ever be attacked. No doubt with Lloyd's attack on their various Chapters throughout the Wasteland, they were a bit on edge right now, especially since just a week ago their second largest Chapter was decimated. I began to wish we'd asked Yoren to help us attack Union, but he was clearly far more interested in his own city. He had no love for Automatons, but he'd suffered enough losses against Jaime.

Lloyd then shifted slightly, and slowly made his way back toward the Skybridge, where he promptly leaned against the rusty railing and stared out toward Union, though what exactly he was looking at I couldn't say.

I approached the tiger, feeling a little bit sullen. "This could be our last night together," I said to the fat feline. I glanced up at the towering behemoth, then moved a paw toward his hip. "Maybe we should make it something special."

"Uhm," managed Lloyd, turning slightly but clearly focused on something else. He didn't resist, though, which was perfect for my wandering paw. In just a moment I cupped his big, warm balls from outside his shorts - his usual brown shorts, tattered a bit around the knees - and tickled them with my fingertips. He didn't make a noise, didn't move, but his eyes did close, and his nethers seemed to warm up.

"You don't have to do anything," I said to him, a slight smile on my face. I tried my best to put Union behind me as my paw pushed closer toward his body, massaging his fuzzy jewels until my paw was down his shorts. He was hard, all right, and so was I. As my paw worked at his hot, plump sheath, my tongue licked over my lips and found his balls again. I made a bit of noise, but Lloyd made more.

"James," he gasped as I unbuttoned his shorts. Within seconds they were unzipped and apart, and his ridiculously thick shaft was half exposed to the air. I pushed back his sheath smoothly and slowly, making it as torturous as I could, and began to stroke him. He was already wet, and after a few more strokes his tigermeat was glistening with precum.

With a couple more strokes, I put my other paw on his belly and pushed him back a bit, then got down on my knees. Our eyes met, and though he looked uncertain, no doubt he saw the hunger in mine. With my paw just at the base of his shaft, I soon looked away and gazed at the sparkling little spines at his cock's tip. It was then I realized just how short he really was, though holding onto it made it feel just as dangerous. Then at last my lips parted and I opened my maw, taking in just the tip of his shaft at first, getting a good taste and a good feel for it before finally getting started.

I gave the head a few good licks at first, and a couple short suckles, but with my own shaft poking out and peeking through the open fly of my shorts, it wasn't long before I had the whole damn thing in my mouth. I could feel it scraping at the back of my throat, and further as I pushed my nose into his soft pubic fur, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. My webbed fingers, as best they could, wrapped around his shaft as if to guide my lips up and down as I began to bob my head, hurried along by Lloyd's guttural moans. He was enjoying every second of this, which pleased me just as much.

Then I felt his paw on the back of my head, not that I was going anywhere, and heard his other paw scrape against the metal railing behind me. I couldn't imagine my tongue was so skilled he needed to brace himself, but I continued all the same. Up and down I went, harried by Lloyd's paw, while my other paw decided to busy itself at the tiger's balls.

They were plump and hot, and probably ready to burst, having gone over a week without being emptied. I knew I was good and ready; I hardly even touched myself since leaving Vault 95. When I felt the slightest of breezes brush the tip of my pride, I moaned slightly, however muffled it was, which seemed to urge me on.

I gave his balls a gentle tug, the whole sack nearly the size of my fist, and pushed forward deeply. I bobbed my head faster, stroking with my fingers , impressed I was able to take all of it without scraping him with my teeth. If I was scraping, he sure as hell didn't give any indication besides his moans and sighs of pleasure.

His slick shaft moved smoothly in and out of my mouth, and for a moment I stroked him with just my paw. I smiled as he let out a sudden sharp moan, gripping the back of my head but not pushing me in. I felt him tremble slightly, and his cock twitched intensely. I knew he was close. I put my lips around his shaft once more and managed to work back into an arousing rhythm, bobbing my head as his amount of noise increased. In just a few moments, he let out almost a roar as he pushed my face toward his body.

My paws landed on his hips as I braced myself, eyes closed tight as his shaft throbbed and his roars seemed to produce amazing amounts of tiger seed. I felt the hot, gooey cum push into my throat and I choked it down, paws gripping at his legs while I did my best not to cough. After twenty or thirty seconds, give or take, the tiger released me, and I was allowed to pull away.

As his shaft slid along my tongue, I tasted his salty tiger seed with some enjoyment. A long string of it dangled off my tongue, my bottom teeth and my lip to the tip of his meat. I glanced up happily at a panting Lloyd as it hung there.

"Thank you," he said, both of his paws now on the railing. I just sat on the metallic floor with cum now dribbling down my chin, after the string broke.

My own shaft, it was rock hard and fully exposed, though still half hidden by my shorts. Within moments Lloyd noticed it and sat across from me. He pulled off my shorts and threw them aside, his paw now gently cupping my balls. The soft touch made me moan quietly and lean back against the Skybridge. With the glistening precum against my long, smooth shaft, it was clear what I wanted. Even touching my brown, thankfully unburned orbs was enough to make me groan, and the pre was almost constant.

"I have never pleasured a male before you," admitted the tiger. I think he was trying to say he wasn't quite sure what to do, despite the resounding success of our previous encounters. And so I answered his question by moving his paw down to my tail. I moaned quietly as his pads ran smoothly through my fur, then back again. I was blushing heavily, and when he kept going, I was able to rest my paws. He worked in a slow, fluid motion, smiling at me as this simple touch brought me amazing pleasure.

"Ah, fuck," I moaned, cock throbbing almost painfully as his paws simply massaged my thick tail. I writhed about in ecstasy, breathing heavily and of course blushing like crazy. It seemed every time Lloyd's paw went back up to brush my tail again, his fingers drew closer and closer to my tailhole, and closer toward my balls. Then his claws began to gently rake through the fur, which made me squeal. Embarrassed by the noise I'd just made, I laughed quietly and held his wrists, slowly guiding them up toward my shaft. The tiger quickly got the hint.

One paw softly squeezed my ripe, sweaty orbs while the other gripped my shaft, squeezing out precum and enormous pleasure. I squirmed and moaned beneath the tiger, claws scraping at the metal below me. Though he had no doubt never stroked another male beyond himself (and me that one time), he was doing a fine job now. Though he'd let go of my balls now, I closed my eyes and cried out, legs stretching and bending as the pleasure built up. It was a subtle pleasure, but without a doubt there and quite strong, growing stronger. I cried out again, then moaned more softly for fear of somebody hearing me. I then laugh-moaned, grinding my head back into the wall of the Skybridge.

His legs were touching either side of my tail as he worked his magic, which made me crazy horny and I wanted nothing more than for him to stroke both it and my shaft, which would have surely pushed me over the edge and beyond. Instead I settled for his legs, using my legs to push his together and give my thick tail a harder squeeze, which every time made me moan loudly and squirm. My mouth was almost stuck in an open position as the tiger pleasured me, moans and groans and heavy panting abound. Hell, I could even feel strings of spit (and cum) dangling between my tongue and my teeth and my lips, waving back and forth as I breathed and cried out.

At last, a few minutes later, Lloyd just touched my sensitive balls and I nearly screamed, muscles tensing and cock throbbing. He gave just a few more strokes and a hearty ball-squeeze and I was already over the edge. I cried out loudly, face ablaze with blush, and held Lloyd's non-stroking arm as my shaft exploded with cum and the sharp sting of rapture. When at last it was over, and his paw stopped moving, I shuddered and shrank beneath the tiger, letting out a long, loud sigh, then laughed again. "God, was I horny," I panted.

That seemed to make Lloyd laugh, too.

My shaft dangled there with cum dripping off onto my shirt, while the rest of it was on the tiger's paw. I was still mostly hard, amazingly, and extremely sensitive to the touch. For now I just lay there, relaxed beneath the moon and my golden behemoth. "C'mere," I said, holding up my paws. I pulled Lloyd's face down toward mine and gave him a long, loving kiss. His mouth was sweet and delicious, like those Gumdrops I had ages ago. We kissed for a good long while, savouring every touch, taste and smell.

As the moon dangled above the horizon, paw-in-paw Lloyd and I finally decided to head back to the Dome. We kissed before we parted, and before I knew it, I was back in my own bed, happy as could be and dreaming of fat tigers.

Morning came quicker than I'd have liked, in the form of Lloyd pushing me. "Get your gear ready," he said.

"We're going already?"

Lloyd nodded. When I glanced about, only a few soldiers were up and about, and fewer getting up. Most of them were still asleep.

When I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I looked up at my tiger a bit more thoroughly, quickly realizing he wasn't in his usual garb. The tiger stood tall before me, his metallic armour gleaming in the dimness of the Knights' barracks, the only light coming in from the hallway outside. He was a massive beast, and looked all the more deadly wrapped in his power armour.

"Jesus," I said, leaning back a bit. His chest seemed twice as powerful, his legs and arms stronger than ever. Even his gut looked strong, which was incredibly accommodated. Most striking, though, was his shoulder armour, which rather than connecting with the upper arm like with most of the armour the Brotherhood was wearing, they seemed to be separate pieces, looking a bit more like the plastic armour I'd found at the University building. His armour looked generally much smoother than the others', and rounder especially in the chest. His armour even included boots, which he hadn't worn in any form before today. Even my armour didn't have boots. Besides his armour, the tiger also carried his messenger bag with him, as well as that damnable metal-spike club he enjoyed so much.

"Let's go," he demanded. He didn't frown at me, but I felt he was about to. "And leave your holotags."

I just rolled my eyes and finally I got up, steadying myself on Lloyd's arm and nodded at him. "I'm not my best in the morning," I told him, though he knew very well how true it was. "Help me with my armour."

Lloyd and I went to the lockers and as soon as I opened the door, Fat Man fell out and slammed into the floor. That, unfortunately, startled a few nearby Knights from their slumber, but thankfully they went back to sleep. Well, they turned away, at any rate, which was just as well. I then stripped out of my smallclothes and somewhat reluctantly threw my holotags back into the locker. Next I pulled out and slipped into the combat webbing, and in just a few short minutes had all the plates attached snugly to my body. I then strapped on my three gun belts - Lucky and Sparky (my plasma pistol) were on my right hip, Lucky in front, while my 10mm hung on my left - and threw on my bag. Lastly, I grabbed my purple bandana and tied it loosely around my neck. When I had everything, I went to follow Lloyd, but nearly tripped over Fat Man. I stared at the weapon, pondering.

Lloyd turned back, glaring suspiciously at me. "What is it?" he asked.

I smiled devilishly at the tiger. "Nothing," I said, then picked up the rail gun.

"You're bringing that with you?" he asked incredulously.

"Let's go," I insisted mockingly, carrying Fat Man on my back. It rested next to my bag and fit surprisingly snug, not jamming anything into my back as I walked.

But when we left the barracks, we didn't take the hallway I expected to take to get to the surface. Instead Lloyd led me down a hallway I hadn't yet travelled, down another short flight of steps and to an unlabelled door.

"What're we doing here? What is this?"

"The armoury," he said, then opened the door.

Inside were shelves and hooks and racks full of guns, both normal and energy alike. There was a table stocked with various grenades, of which I took five pulse. I saw even more mini nukes available to me, but since my small backpack was already pretty full with the three I had, as well as the grenades, I decided against it. I took a few energy cells instead, and a pawful of shotgun shells, and determined I had enough 10mm ammo. When I turned to Lloyd, he had just shoved a few pulse grenades in his bag, too, as well as a few plasma. The tiger also nabbed a plasma rifle from the wall, plus some ammo, and strapped it to his back beside his club.

"This is it," he said, taking a deep breath. It was strange seeing such a large, intimidating tiger in such large, intimidating armour look so apprehensive. He then took a look around, frowned and gave me a nod. With that, we were off once more.

Outside the Dome was a small group of soldiers in their power armour, which I didn't think was part of the Head Paladin's plans. When we approached, I bristled at the sight of Aldebourne. There was another Scribe there, a spectacled German shepherd holding a shortened laser rifle.

"Aldebourne," growled Lloyd. The sun was just coming up, its rays not yet reaching the courtyard for the crumbling buildings that was Ronto.

"Thompson," the fox said coolly. "There has been a slight change of plans. Because it is my train, my project, I feel... I'm going to take you to it. I won't join you in battle, but..."

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear Aldebourne was feeling a little mournful.

"But Fraction said we couldn't all go in dressed like this," I said impertinently.

Aldebourne gave me a scornful look. "I have traveled dozens of times to the metro station with armed guards. The Military will not think twice about this."

I then glanced at Scribe Rothbury. He looked nervous. Was he coming, too?

"Commander Thompson," started the shepherd. He didn't even look at me. "I... I'm not coming with you, in case you thought as much. But I wanted you to take this." He then presented the tiger that rifle he'd been working on. "It's not as accurate as a laser rifle, but it's many times stronger. I've managed to refocus the beam, but unfortunately the crystal array was damaged...perhaps happily. As I said, the output is much stronger, but the accuracy has suffered immensely. It now fires three beams simultaneously, acting more like...well, in layman's terms, more like a laser shotgun." Rothbury then cleared his throat awkwardly, like he was ashamed to call it that in front of the Head Scribe. "Anyway, naturally I have no practical use for it, and we have laser rifles aplenty. Thought if I could be any part of bringing down the Automatons, this would be it."

Lloyd gave Rothbury a serious look for a moment, then took the "happily damaged" rifle in exchange for his plasma rifle.

"Good luck, Commander," said the shepherd, then stepped away. He held the plasma rifle so awkwardly I could have laughed.

At long last, the five hand-picked soldiers and Head Scribe Aldebourne took toward the Skybridge, which was apparently the quickest way to street level and to the metro station. We passed over it quickly, myself and Lloyd apparently the only ones gazing out at Union. Then we were through the ruined building and on street level. Aldebourne led us northward.

"If you can, James Grayson," started the arctic fox, "try to keep yourself as bloody respectable as you can. If we're lucky, the Military will think you're simply - god forbid - an Initiate. Although..." The fox glanced back at me dubiously, looked me up and down. "That may be a stretch."

I almost told him to go fuck himself, but Lloyd put a paw on my back.

"Of course if we're truly lucky, they won't even notice us at all. That is, if you're naive enough to believe in something as foolish as luck."

It was impossible to know whether or not one of these five of Head Paladin Fraction's best soldiers were rolling their eyes behind their helmets, but I sure as hell knew I was. Luckily - since I was naive enough to believe in something as foolish as luck - Aldebourne didn't say much else the rest of the way there. People noticed us, for sure, the few who were out this early, but they were more curious glances than suspicious stares. I didn't see any Ronto soldiers out and about, fortunately, though if they were, they didn't make themselves known. Either that or they're too damn tired to care, I thought after a big yawn.

Somewhere roughly north-east of the Dome, past a completely ruined building and a whole street of ruined cars, our small group arrived at an old set of stairs leading into Ronto's underground. I hadn't ever been in metro tunnels before, so I was quite excited by the time of our arrival. I imagined it would be much like the sewers or perhaps like the steam tunnels, all dark with thick cement walls and railroad tracks, and all-in-all, quite glum.

Yet when we finally entered the station proper, I saw quite the contrary. I mean, rubble and garbage and debris still lay everywhere in the spacious station - most alarming was the broken support column - but the walls were still light and smooth, tiled centuries ago. I could see a couple windows and old newsstands now demolished, but out of all the ruined ticket booths, at least two of them looked in good enough condition to still use, were there a point. Even a few turnstiles still functioned, though so much had been broken around it, it hardly made a difference. I decided to push my way through one anyway, which made a horrible _clunk_ing noise as it grinded and turned, and the others looked back. Aldebourne was the most annoyed by my amusement, but at least it got a smile from Lloyd.

When at last we entered the metro's train platform, I immediately looked for the tracks, which ran on either side of the platform; some stations, I was told, had the tracks in the middle and a platform on either side, depending on which direction you needed to go. The walls, like upstairs, were cracked and partially caved in and rubble all over the place, but there was still functioning lights, which were surprisingly bright, and a good portion of smooth tiles was still attached to the two rows of dark-grey pillars running from one set of stairs to the other. I couldn't read the name of the station any longer, as it was now sprawled all across the northbound tracks, but I had to admit, the metro wasn't anywhere near as horrid as I'd expected.

Aldebourne then took us down onto the southbound tracks, presumably leading us south toward the train, though after walking through the upper part of the metro, which was in far worse condition - some of the ceiling had caved in, and a car from the surface was blocking the bathroom entrance - I'd lost my sense of direction. But this way was lit up by a string of lights, and much of the expected rubble had been cleared away.

"Don't step anywhere near that track," said the arctic fox, pointing toward a rail running alongside the main two. "It's an electric rail, used to power the train. It'll kill you in an instant, or near enough so it doesn't make a difference. Though I'm yet to test it, I theorize otters are immune to the electrified rail."

"Fuck you," I barked. Aldebourne just laughed haughtily and continued on. Much to my surprise, he held some button on his so-called Pip-Boy and a bright greenish light sprang outward, lighting the dark areas between work lights. The walls of the metro, like most of Ronto, were cracked and broken and in many places, missing altogether. I noticed a few doors in our travels, and wanted so badly to go up and explore what was beyond them, but of course I was stuck with our group. No doubt it was a few boring offices or storage rooms or passageways, but I wanted to explore them all the same.

After about ten or so minutes of walking, the walls formed into what Aldebourne called "tube tunnels," probably because of the cylindrical shape, and they stayed that way for quite some time. Quickly the tunnels were becoming more dark and dank, and the lights were spread out more sparsely, but for the Head Scribe's Pip-Boy. A few pipes and broken lights and signals adorned the walls, a couple of them flickering from time to time as we passed. Soon enough, though, a work light illuminated a fallen subway car, which for a moment frightened me, having come so far. But as the arctic fox informed us, the next few cars were empty and detached from the train.

We weaved between a few smashed, sideways cars, walked through another derailed, then squeezed past one that had crashed into the wall. The former had caused the tunnel to collapse almost to the point of blocking our way entirely, but Aldebourne revealed a passageway at the other end. Fortunately, about a hundred feet ahead, give or take, one of the cars was just barely derailed, and a bit further the cars were completely on the tracks as if the bombs had never dropped.

By that point, bright lights could be seen at least five more cars down, which was where the actual train was. Aldebourne turned off his Pip-Boy light and led us up onto a makeshift platform about a foot off the actual ground. When we reached the train, I was surprised to see they had cleared out an enormous spherical chamber to set up a proper workshop, obviously not part of the original architecture. There were light stands and hanging work lights all around, at least three tables with computers, half a dozen workbenches and cabinets and tools abound. Scrap pieces of metal lay scattered about, oddly tidy in a chaotic sort of way, as well as countless pieces of electronic bits and endless lengths of wire. There were two Scribes down here already, one working on a computer and another examining something closely at a workbench. When Aldebourne cleared his throat, a third Scribe appeared moments later from the train wearing thick welding goggles on his face, round as saucers and black as jet.

"Aldebourne!" said the goggled one with a smile. He was a black and white husky, young and handsome, even with half his right ear missing. The dog used both paws to lift the goggles and rest them on his forehead, revealing a pair of bright, icy-blue eyes. When he (and the others) approached, the husky put his paws on his hips and stood with his weight on one leg, still smiling at the little arctic fox. I had to admit, it was a little strange, and a little refreshing, to see such an informal Scribe. "It's time now, is it? Didn't expect to see you down here, sir, especially with a group of Fraction's soldiers."

"Yes, well... I thought it would be fitting that I see her off."

"Aye, and I can't say I blame you. You and I've put a lot of years into this baby. Have to admit, I'm gonna miss working on her, but we'll find new projects to work on, we always do. Maybe you an' I can work together on something else again, hm? How about that new weapon you've been constructing?"

Aldebourne gave the husky a scornful look.

I have a new weapon, I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut. It wasn't until we were standing around when I began to feel the weight of Fat Man on my shoulder.

"Let's just get this done and over with," said the fox reluctantly. "You two can go." He nodded toward the other two Scribes - both young, a cheetah and chocolate Labrador. "Scribe Blackwood..." He didn't need to say the rest.

"Won't those two want to see the train off, too?" I asked. I wasn't sure why I was so concerned with it, except they looked a bit sad to have to leave. I didn't have much sentiment for any of my personal items, except of course for Lucky, my bandana and my anklet; I knew if I lost any of them, I'd be damn-well pissed. And a little sad.

"Who's this?" the husky asked the fox, a suspicious grin on his face.

Aldebourne scoffed and gave me his most disdainful look yet. "Not even an Outsider," he hissed, wrinkling his nose as if the very sight of me was an insult. "He's some Wastelander bound to Thompson for god knows what reason. Don't pay him any mind."

"Name's Ashton Blackwood," said the husky cheerfully enough. Much to my surprise, he pushed himself past an irritated arctic fox and five soldiers and a fat tiger just to shake my paw. "Scribe."

I shook his paw carefully. "James Grayson," I said somewhat confusedly, not sure if this was some jape of his or if he was being sincere.

"Pleasure's mine. Don't mind the Head Scribe, he can be a bit prickly at times. Heart of gold, I promise you. As for those other two, to be honest they couldn't wait to get out of here, so don't you worry about them."

I furrowed my brow, but managed a smile. When I took a quick glance at Aldebourne, he seemed none too pleased by his friend's pleasant conversation. Prickly, indeed.

"All right, enough with the pleasantries, Blackwood. You already know Thompson, and these five belong to Fraction. They'll be coming back later, after they destroy my subway train. You can meet them then, if you must."

Scribe Blackwood just laughed at the little arctic fox, which made him growl. "Fair enough, sir, fair enough. Am I still to show them how this thing works, or will that honour belong to you?"

"I'll show them. That's assuming you got her up and running again."

"I did, and then some. Packed her front full of explosives, too, just to give those Automaton sons-of-bitches a little extra kick in the teeth. Call it a gift from Yours Truly." Blackwood seemed quite proud of his little setup. Then he looked at us collectively, save, perhaps, for Aldebourne. "Having said that, once you start her up, you'll want to be at least two cars back or you'll be kissing the flames, too. Also got the remote coupler working properly, or...well, I finished installing it just before you got here. Suppose this'll be a day full of first tests."

I didn't like the sound of that, and Lloyd's frown told me he didn't, either. The five soldiers glanced at each other from behind their helmets, and only Aldebourne looked unconcerned. "Good," was all he said to that. "Excellent work, Blackwood."

"High praise from the Head Scribe," jested the husky. "Truly, this is a red letter day."

Aldebourne ignored the dog's sarcasm and proceeded toward the head of the train, where Blackwood had first appeared. Unfortunately we couldn't all fit in at the same time to see the control panel, so the small fox picked Lloyd, who was closest, to explain how it all worked. Frankly I was surprised he hadn't picked me, the most likely to get killed doing this.

"From what I've been able to discern," explained the fox, "the controls should be fairly simple. After ignition, use this lever here to accelerate. You have to have the doors closed first, which you do with these buttons. The diagrams are fairly self-explanatory. Once the train starts moving, lock the lever in place with this." He held up a metal device no doubt of his own construction, then jammed the lever forward and showed us how to fit it in. "If you let go of the accelerator, the emergency breaks will kick in."

"What do we do after?" I asked, and judging by Aldebourne's scornful look, rather insolently.

"You can stay at the front of the train," the little fox grumbled. "The rest of you should already be in the last car where Scribe Blackwood has set up the remote coupler. After starting the train, join them by going through these doors at the end; they're not locked. When you're all together, just press the button on the remote coupler and the cars will separate from the train."

I wanted to ask how we'd know when to uncouple the train, but at the risk of receiving another caustic gaze from Aldebourne, I decided to keep my mouth shut.

"The train will turn only one corner before it's on a collision course with Union's subway level, so you have to time the uncoupling properly. If you uncouple too soon, your car won't reach Union's platform, and too late... Well, you can all guess what will happen then. If Scribe Blackwood's calculations can be trusted, and I know they can, then you'll want to activate the remote coupler after you turn the corner and count three sets of lights. On the third light, activate the switch. Do you understand?"

I wasn't sure who he was asking exactly, so I nodded anyway. My nod went unnoticed.

"Good," Aldebourne said, removing the stopper from the acceleration lever. He then looked up at Lloyd, who was standing closest, and frowned, pushing the tiger, myself, and three of the five soldiers out of his way. We followed him to a table safe where he promptly opened it and retrieved something tiny. When he turned around, I saw he held a key with a gear attached, dangling from a small chain. "The ignition key," he stated, handing it to his favourite Outsider, Lloyd.

"I will not fail in my mission."

"You had better damn-well not," said Aldebourne, surprising me a little in his lack of formality. "I worked tirelessly for years on this train, in hopes to improve the city. If this sacrifice was for naught..." I imagined Aldebourne wanted to threaten Lloyd, but of course if his mission was unsuccessful, there wouldn't be enough of Lloyd left to punish.

"If the tales can be believed, then I have no doubt the Paladin Commander will finish his mission successfully," said a voice to our right. It was Scribe Blackwood, and if he wasn't strange enough for a Scribe, he had a lit cigarette hanging from the end of his mouth.

"How many times have I told you?" growled the fox, glaring at the cigarette. He waved his paw in front of his nose to fan the smoke away.

"Aw, c'mon, Head Scribe. I've been good about it all this time, and today's kinda special, don't you think? Lemme have this. Once the train's off, you won't have to see another cigarette, much less suffer mine."

Aldebourne frowned and turned back to us. "Go," he said, handing Lloyd the metal jammer for the acceleration lever. "Before I change my bloody mind." We were then pushed back onto the train, and the small arctic fox led us to the back, all save Lloyd who stayed at the front. Aldebourne then opened the door for us and the five soldiers piled on through before me.

"I don't like you," said the arctic fox, grabbing my arm. I nearly hit him. "But so much is riding on whether or not we win this. Whichever the outcome, the Brotherhood will be under great scrutiny from Ronto's City Hall, but a success here could mean the difference between peace and war. I do not share some of my brothers' taste for battle, but history has proven we are a stubborn lot, so if you fail and it comes to exile, we will undoubtedly fight. And that would mean the end of the Brotherhood's northern chapter."

"Let go of my fucking arm," I growled, wrenching my arm free. "I know what's at stake."

Aldebourne gave me a hard look. "Do you? Even a successful mission is a great risk to the Brotherhood; we're breaking our pact here. And while I, personally, think this vengeance quest is a foolish endeavour, the Elder and council agree this is the right move. Fortunately for the Paladin Commander, the thought of these bastards growing any larger is a much more frightening prospect, otherwise I would never have given my consent. Either way, I know you have no personal stake in this, so just remember that more than just satisfying Thompson's bloodlust is on the line here."

I frowned at the fox, and nearly punched him out anyway, but decided against it. What he didn't know, clearly, was I did have a personal stake in this. Frost was the one in my dreams, the dark shadow who took everything from me when I was just a pup. This was as much about revenge for me as it was for Lloyd, and of course the Brotherhood of Steel had a lot more riding on it, too. They hated the Automatons and everything they stood for, and wanted to see them gone, but more importantly their survival was on the line. I knew exactly what I was going up against, as far as stakes were concerned, and didn't need a reminder from an arrogant little fox.

"Fuck you, Aldebourne," I said instead of punching him. "I know I'm not as fucking smart as the rest of you egghead Scribes, but do I know what's going-the-fuck on here. I know the risks, and know what the Brotherhood stands to lose, so don't fucking lecture me. I appreciate the train, and I appreciate what it means to you, but unless you plan on coming with, why don't you back the fuck off and let me do your fighting for you?"

Aldebourne growled and bared his teeth, but I think he knew there was no more point in arguing. "Just fucking win," he snarled quietly, then left the train.

When the door shut, I glanced up at Lloyd and gave him a curt nod. "Good luck," I told him, despite the fact we'd all need a bit of luck. I then exited through the back of the train to the second car, then weaved between the rusty poles to the last car, where Head Paladin Fraction's hand-picked soldiers stood waiting. Not one of them had said much since we left the Dome, besides a few quiet remarks to one another, which made standing with the five large, metallic men all the more intimidating. After a couple moments of getting settled, at last the train screeched forward.

The sudden movement instantly unbalanced me, which with the uneven weight of Fat Man on my back nearly made me fall over. Thankfully one of the Knights (or were they Paladins?) had caught me, and the others chuckled. Frowning, I held onto one of the poles as slowly the lights of the underground workshop vanished, and quickly the train sped up.

"Ready to kick some Automaton ass?" one of the soldiers said. Each one was helmeted, so it was difficult to know who said it. The question was clearly rhetorical, though, since no one answered, and frankly it sounded a little nervous. I wasn't sure why they were so afraid, though, since they were just helping clear a path to Union's main hall, plus had armour that was made to defend against lasers and plasma. To be honest, I was surprised they were coming at all, and while I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, they still seemed like kind of a waste of help. I mean, what good were they when the real threat would be at ground level? Perhaps Fraction knew more than he let on, as far as their subway defences were concerned.

Either way, I suppose I was glad they were there, if for no other reason than for laser fodder and protection for me, as selfish and horrible as that was to admit. I was also glad to see Lloyd marching back toward the last subway car, closing the doors behind him as he went. He looked huge and intimidating without his armour, but now, despite being helmetless, the brute looked twice and large and three times as dangerous. When he at last arrived, I put a paw on his metallic belly and looked up at him. The worry must have been clear on my face, since after closing the door behind him, the tiger gave my side a comforting stroke.

"This is really it," I said, not realizing just how twisted my guts felt until the train was actually moving. But perhaps that was just motion sickness.

"Yeah," Lloyd responded deeply, a certain fire and determination in his eyes that I sorely lacked.

"I've got a question," I started, not too sure how to go about asking. "Um... You know my parents?"

Lloyd cocked his head.

"I mean, my adoptive parents. Do you think... Do you know where they live?"

The tiger didn't say anything.

I sighed heavily. "I mean... If I don't make it, y'know? You're not gonna leave my body just lying there, are you?"

"You're not going to die up there," he assured me. "Who'll watch my back then?"

I knew he was trying to be encouraging, but it didn't help. "Says the one with the fucking metal armour on. Even if I do get through this alive, I'd...kinda like to find them. I know they're probably dead by now, or their farm razed or raided, but I still want to know. We can do that, can't we?"

My golden behemoth shifted uncomfortably for a moment, then nearly fell to his side when the train took a sudden turn. I gripped the pole tightly to keep myself up, and so did Lloyd, as the train grinded and screeched loudly around the corner. We were nearly there, I knew. Once the train straightened out, we'd be on a crash course with Union, then all hell would break loose.

Lloyd, after steadying himself, quickly scrambled back toward the door to where Scribe Blackwood had placed the remote coupler, and stood there ready to press the button. When I looked back at the other five soldiers, they were just now picking up their guns. Three of them had Gatling lasers while one other apparently wielded duel laser pistols and the other favouring a Flamer.

"Here we go, boys," one of the soldiers shouted, one of the Gatling ones.

When the train finally straightened out, all eyes were on the windows, looking for lights to count. Suddenly, faster than I anticipated - just a blur if I'd been paying attention - a red light flashed by, then seconds later another. I held my breath as the third zipped by, and Lloyd pressed the button. Though it took a moment, I felt our speed very gradually decrease, though the following red lights showed us we'd still retained a great amount of momentum.

"Prepare for impact," snarled Lloyd, holding onto a railing with both paws. With my guts now about to come flying out of my mouth, I held on as hard as I could, and watched the others do the same. I held my breath once more to keep my stomach down as I waited for...something. An explosion, presumably, but in these tunnels I had to prepare myself as well for cave-ins or fireballs. I also had to prepare myself mentally as best I could, knowing it was going to be one hell of a fight. My only consolation was for now, I was with six well-trained soldiers, which more and more made me think perhaps the Automatons' main defences, or at least heaviest, were down below.

Thinking about it, it would make more sense. I mean, they no doubt realized there was a pact of some kind between the Brotherhood of Steel and Ronto, especially since they probably had to sign one too, or at least agree upon something. So they would understand as well as anyone if the Brotherhood ever did mount any kind of attack - the animosity, I understood, was mutual between the two powers - marching down the open streets would be total idiocy. And so the only way to conceal an encroaching army, from either side, was to march underground. Of course, the only thing the Automatons could count on, in that regard, was the fact the Brotherhood didn't have an underground entrance near the Tower, plus the fact they had to share the Dome equally with Ronto's military.

Seconds after that thought, my mind was suddenly jolted back to reality when deep, thunderous rumble shook the entire train and an intense light could be seen off in the distance. The train immediately began screeching and jostling so hard I thought for sure it was about to fly off the tracks, and several windows had cracked and shattered. As I tried my hardest not to fall over, I heard intense profanities possibly from myself (I couldn't tell), as the whole world suddenly become one roaring blur.

When I managed a moment of clarity, shakily lifting myself up to peer forward, I saw bright flames frozen in front of the cars and the open space of Union's metro platform. The whole station looked black and charred and broken, and smoke was billowing from the ruined train and flames spread everywhere. I couldn't see any people, not in the instant I was able to look, but was at least able to notice we'd caused an alarming amount of damage. I also noticed, before my whole world sped back up again, we hadn't slowed down nearly enough to comfort me, and there was only flaming wreckage to stop us now.

"Oh fuck," I remembered thinking, then everything went to hell. Instantly our cars slammed into the ruins of Aldebourne's train, and though I held onto the railing as hard as I could, nothing in the world could have stopped it from slipping from my paws. I felt myself airborne for the briefest of seconds before I kissed the metal door, and boy did I kiss it hard. I wasn't sure how everyone else had fared, or even where they were, but with metal screaming against metal all around me, plus the intense roar of the flames everywhere and my world gone totally dark, I knew whatever had happened to them, I sure as fuck wasn't going anywhere.

Consciousness hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. My head was pounding like crazy, and there was a loud banging somewhere nearby. Someone was shouting something, possibly at me, I couldn't tell. When I opened my eyes, they burned like someone had poured sand into them, but I forced myself to look. Like waking up from a dream, it took me a moment to remember where I was and what was happening. Everything was a blur, and that incessant banging wouldn't stop. God damn it, my head fucking hurt.

I then felt a paw on my shoulder, and the orangey blur in front of me became a little more focused. "James," I began to hear, the sound emerging from what was just deep mumbles before. "James, for god's sake..." I was James, obviously, though at that moment I really didn't want to be.

I groaned loudly as I tried to move. "Ah, fuck," I said, my voice hard and cracked. "My fucking head..."

"I gave you some Med-X."

"Give me some more," I insisted.

The tiger shook his head. "Any more and you won't be able to fight."

"Good," I groaned, attempting to sit up. Lloyd helped me, thankfully, and within a few horrible, painful moments, I was back on my feet. Fat Man was no longer strapped to my back, and though it was a relief, I did want it back.

Suddenly, the loud banging stopped, accompanied shortly thereafter by a big bang, what sounded like a metal plate crashing against the floor. When I looked up, one of the armoured soldiers holding a Gatling laser was standing before a dented subway door lying against the floor; that was exactly what it was. But before I could comment, someone cried "Enemies!" then the crisp, high-pitched cry of laserfire was quick upon us.

I couldn't tell if it was from turrets, rifles or robots, but my heart was suddenly pounding mercilessly as the lasers _zip_ped overhead. I immediately found myself on my knees, having been pulled down by an immense force known as Lloyd Thompson. The others had followed suit, but the laserfire didn't stop.

"Oh shit, oh shit," I cried, paws shaking worse than a Ghouls'. My right paw was gripping Lucky tighter than I'd ever gripped a gun before, while the other held onto my 10mm. The five soldiers shouted something, then again, and the one with the laser pistols was returning fire.

"We can't stay here!" cried one of them, the one with the Flamer. I ducked my head to avoid a laser bolt, though soon it wouldn't do me much good; the subway car, already aflame and dented and broken, was slowly being hole-punched away by the weapons fire. But when I caught a quick glance of the area around us, I saw scattered machinery, sandbags thrown everywhere and essentially, zero cover. It was as if somehow they knew, and had prepared for this.

"No fucking shit," I heard myself cry, wincing as sparks flew at my face. "There isn't any cover!"

"We have to make our stand here," Lloyd's voice boomed, cutting through the shrill cries of laser weapons. "Spread out and make every shot count. We have to at least clear a path to cover, up there on the platform. If I can get through, I can start taking them out from behind."

The others didn't give Lloyd's orders a second thought. At once they organized themselves and spread out quickly, the one with the laser pistols (and most mobility) provided the most cover as they set up at the large, shattered windows.

"Pick your targets," commanded the tiger. He had his modified laser rifle ready to go, though we all understood he had almost no range with it, and even less with his nail-club. When he nodded at me, I shifted my right paw to Sparky and moved to the right side of the door, opposite to Lloyd. "Wait for them to reload," he said loudly. "These are untrained soldiers, remember that. On my mark..."

With my heart racing and adrenaline pumping, my headache was all but gone and my burns felt like nothing at all. I had both weapons drawn and was kneeling as close to the crippled seats as my body would allow, ready to attack. Despite the heavy weapons fire, I was unusually focused. My next few breaths seemed to last a lifetime, until there was a pause in the attack.

"Now!" roared the tiger, and at once all seven of us stood up and opened fire on our enemies. As Union's metro came into horrifying view, I counted at least twenty enemies and some robots, though there were probably more. The men were in the middle of reloading, and the robots powering up, but I took aim and squeezed Sparky's trigger.

The sharp moan of Sparky's central cathode filled my ears as its green pinch flew through the air, for a moment bathing us in its warmth. I hit my target in the shoulder, but had fortunately fired off another bolt with enough time to strike him again in the chest, killing him. With the others about to open fire once more, I lowered Sparky and lifted my 10mm to smear an enemy's brains clear against a tiled pillar, then quickly found cover.

"Two!" I shouted as the others ducked down, and they stared at me probably in annoyance. Lloyd definitely was.

"Three!" cried one of the other soldiers, the one with the laser pistols. Part of his left shoulder armour and a spot on his chest was black and smoking, but he seemed totally unharmed. Even as the laser bolts and plasma pinches and rockets exploded and sparked and flew all around us, the other soldiers chimed in with, "Two," and "Four," and "Two," and "Three." The one with the Flamer currently had a laser rifle in his paws.

I glanced at Lloyd, who was none too pleased, especially since with his short-range weapons he hadn't struck any. "One," he said with a frown, but the others cheered their commander anyway.

When there was another short break in the weapons fire, the seven of us stood up again and opened fire. With the Automatons closer in now, they began to make for easier targets, especially for the three soldiers who rained bright red torrents of lasers on the larger groupings. The one with the laser rifle was picking off individual soldiers while I did mostly the same, aiming for the enemies further back to give Lloyd and the duel-wielder a chance to attack the closest.

Every one of my shots counted, hitting a target with every squeeze of the trigger. Unfortunately not every shot was a fatal one, but they did enough damage to at least slow them down. The only problem I was starting to see was the encroaching Mr. Gutsy's and the clunky Protectrons in the back, who were much more formidable against our attacks. It felt like no matter how many times I hit a Gutsy, it still opened fire. But when two of them nearly banged into each other, I quickly remembered my bag.

I ducked down as we continued our assault, throwing my bag from around my shoulder and nearly ripping it open. I dug my paw in and pulled out a pulse grenade, which got a look from Lloyd as he took cover again.

Taking a breath, I pressed the button down for several seconds and cried, "Grenade out!" then lobbed it as hard as I could out the window and toward the two Gutsy's, hoping an Automaton didn't get in the way. A small part of me was also hoping the Automatons were so convinced they were robots, this would fell them, too, but I wasn't particularly counting on it.

Several seconds later, the metro station was filled with the loud crackling of the grenade's electric explosion, knocking back a few furry enemies but more importantly, destroying one of the robots. Though I was aiming for both, I could tell from the way the second Mr. Gutsy was shaking and throttling about that it wouldn't last much longer.

"Open fire!" cried Lloyd suddenly, probably when he realized the Automatons had stopped just briefly to watch the explosion.

At once the five Brotherhood soldiers pressed their attack, the two biggest soldiers unleashing their flood of laserfire on the enemies yet again. I drained Sparky's energy cell taking down the damaged Gusty, then quickly reached into my bag for a fresh one. When it clicked into place, I immediately stood and took aim at an unfortunate Automaton who clearly didn't belong here. Though he had obviously never seen combat before, by the way he left himself entirely too exposed, I knew if given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to shoot me. But before I could pull the trigger, I suddenly felt an intense hammer-blow against my left shoulder, knocking me back.

I fell against the seats behind me then onto the floor, writhing at the pain ripping through the whole left side of my chest. I'd been shot again, and it would seem in the exact same spot as the first time, except...it wasn't nearly as bad, nowhere near. I snarled and held the black, smoky spot, groping for blood while I tried desperately to breathe again. It hurt to breathe, every breath a punch in the chest, but I forced myself. Much to my surprise, I didn't feel any blood where my first wound was, and the pain was diminishing quickly. When I finally caught a glance, I quickly realized my damnable armour had protected me.

"Holy fuck," I exhaled, taking just another moment's rest. Lloyd was next to me, closer than he had been, but still firing his weapons.

"He all right?" someone shouted, one of Fraction's men.

"Yeah," called Lloyd. I saw he had a laser pistol in his paw now, likely borrowed from one of the others. There was no sense in wasting ammo on enemies you could barely hit. As the tiger kneeled next to me, he was shooting out the window.

I held Lloyd's paw for a moment, forcing him to look at me, and I gave him an affirming nod. I was okay, and while that shot probably hurt more than it would have without a relatively fresh wound beneath it, it wasn't anything my poor burned body couldn't handle. "I'm good," I rasped, sitting up. As Lloyd moved away, I found my guns, reloaded my 10mm and took a few short breaths. My ears were ringing a bit and the blinding pain made me a little woozy, but I could lift my arms and I still had my vision.

When I glanced outside, I saw at least five enormous Sentry Bots behind everyone, and even more Automatons. The infantry they'd sent in were now lying scattered across the metro's floor, dead or dying, and it would seem for now they were rethinking their tactics. This gave the five Brotherhood soldiers time to reload their weapons.

"I don't think they expected us to be here," said one of the soldiers.

"If they're rearming themselves, then we can't stay here," said another. "We're sitting ducks."

"I know," said Lloyd. "But if we go now, they'll disintegrate before we can find new cover."

I took another peek around the corner of the door, and past the flames and corpses and piles of dust and goo, I noticed a few Automatons rolling in what appeared to be turrets, much like the ceiling-mounted ones except on wheels. And on the floor. "They mean fucking business. If they take us out here, then the Brotherhood's fucked, too." I doubted Lloyd needed reminding of that, but there it was.

Lloyd just frowned at me, though I think he was frowning more at our situation. The furthest end of our subway car was heavily damaged, though not so much as the front of the car. It seemed the only way out was the door one of the Paladins had knocked down, and currently there were Sentry Bots and turrets aiming right at it. There were other Automatons around, but most too far to get an accurate shot with our weapons, while the others had drawn back, either to reload or rearm themselves. And nobody ever rearmed themselves with worse weapons.

"We have to get out of here," continued the Paladin who said we were sitting ducks. "They're quickly turning our only cover into Swiss cheese, and our armour can only endure so many laser blasts. Besides, they throw in one pulse grenade in here, we're all done for." Then he glanced at me. He somehow told everyone with his helmeted eyes I would be the only one to survive a pulse attack, or rather, the only one whose armour wouldn't be immobilized.

"Do we have any mines?" I asked, trying to be as helpful as possible. The soldiers shook their heads. I chewed my lip for a moment, listening to the sounds of a crumbling foundation and Automatons setting up their weapons. "We have some grenades," I pointed out. "If we spread them out across the entrance, that'll provide at least some protection, should they get so close. Someone would have to shoot them, though."

"Do it," said Lloyd. He had a certain fire in his eyes. As I opened my bag and retrieved a few frag and plasma grenades, the tiger continued. "I know our situation seems grim, but right now isn't time for argument. They're setting up more weapons as we speak, and we can't give them any more opportunity to rearm. For now, we have to hold our ground until an opportunity presents itself to leave. Until then, let's give them hell."

The Brothers gave their commander a hard look, but I think they knew it was true.

"Target the Sentry Bots and the turrets," continued Lloyd, just as I finished throwing out some grenades. I had to make a mental note of where they landed, so I could find them more easily. Thankfully, unlike mines, they would go more easily unnoticed.

"I still have some pulse grenades," I said. I had to place my three mini nukes aside while I dug around my bag, but at least now they were more easily accessible. I put the mini nukes under a seat where I thought they would be less likely to get shot.

"Me, too," said a soldier, then another. Lloyd still had some, too.

"Okay." Lloyd paused for a moment and took a breath. "On my command, lob the grenades as close to the Bots and the turrets as you can. Then fire at will. Understand?"

"Yes sir," they said almost in unison. I nodded at my golden behemoth, tightly gripping a grenade.

"On my mark..." Lloyd took a few deep breaths, then shouted, "Now!"

At once, the seven of us stood up while holding down the pulse grenades' triggers, loosing them just as I heard the rotors of the turrets and Sentry Bots' Miniguns start up. I lobbed the grenade as hard as I could and with as much accuracy as possible. For a moment I watched the seven little devices fly through the air, but just as the muzzle flashes of at least two turrets and three Sentry Bots lit up, I found cover immediately.

The bullets hammering the metal siding of the subway car was deafening, and I could almost feel every impact of every bullet weaken the walls. I ducked my head for all the good it would do, feeling the bullets and laser bolts zip past my legs and my head, but fortunately they were all stray and none of them hit me. A second later, all I could hear was the high-pitched buzzing and crackling of our grenades detonating, then the satisfying crunch of metal grinding against metal and the floor. Weapons were still firing, but the screams from our enemies was of terror. A few more explosions later and all was silent, for a second at least until the air was filled once more with the music of bullets, lasers, plasma and rockets.

I poked my head around the corner to see what exactly was happening, and though there were still some functioning robots, it appeared as if some of them had opened fire on their own men. I had to laugh, that is until a relatively well-armoured group of Automatons appeared from behind a wall or a pillar, holding weapons I hadn't seen before.

The weapons were in the same fashion as most heavy weapons, held by the hip with both paws, yet instead of the long barrel of a Minigun, it looked more like a long rod with a strange, three-pronged bladed end. Presumably it was an energy weapon, and from between the three blades, which were set circularly around the rod's end, the weapon would fire. The blades were probably meant to focus the energy, which was how most energy weapons functioned.

When they began their attack, I was shocked to see the bright green pinches of plasma suddenly firing forward at such high velocities, melting away fist-sized chunks of subway car. Everyone took cover as the two or three, or possibly four well-armoured (for Automatons) soldiers let loose their...whatever they called them. The heavy weapons had a high rate of fire, surprisingly, and dealt enormous damage. All around us the subway car seemed to be melting into molten green goo, at least the walls, a relentless attack which left us helpless.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I cried, covering my head. The sharp scream of these strange energy weapons filled the air as our only cover rapidly turned to nothing. On my paws and knees, I took a quick glance at their positions, avoided a stray shot, then looked again. Amongst their weapons fire were some of the regular soldiers as well, closing in behind their well-armed brothers, and closing in fast. I ducked back again, held my 10mm firmly, then looked out. With as much precision as I could muster, I shot at one of the grenades I'd tossed out earlier, missing three times before finally hitting it.

Instantly two of the regular Automatons flew back, one of them at least without his leg. Blood splattered against rubble as the two fell, but unfortunately the heavy soldiers were hardly moved, probably too far from the initial explosions. Nevertheless, I spotted another grenade and shot it, shredding both legs off an unfortunate hound, and the arm off another while a third had simply been thrown into a wall, head turned to mush. But seconds later I was then forced to duck back, and within moments the small corner between the seat and the door was turned into goo.

"Shit," I snarled, curled up near Lloyd. For now he was ducking for all it was worth, though soon there would be nothing left to hide behind. "Fuck this," I growled, then reached for my mini nukes. I shoved two of them back into my bag, and before Lloyd could stop me, I stood up and with all my might, threw one straight out the window.

Lloyd was pulling at me desperately and crying out as I whipped the nuke like a softball, watching it fly through the air before something extraordinarily hot struck me in the stomach. For the second time in this gunfight, I found myself on the floor of the car in horrifying pain. When I looked down, my armour was quickly disintegrating like I'd been shot with acid. I brushed at it feverishly, as well as Lloyd, trying to stop the spread of the plasma's green, gooey fire. Thankfully I managed to brush the worst of it off before my fur melted away, though it had suffered some minor singeing. And yet with my armour more or less stable now, the affected (and totally eaten away) areas still burned like someone had just jabbed me with hot coals. All I could do was curl up and coddle my poor belly, the pain intense.

This is nothing, I had to tell myself, still holding my stomach. Unlike the other half of me, this plasma hadn't burned my skin.

"Are you insane?" cried the tiger, but I ignored him.

"Shoot the mini nuke!" I cried desperately, left paw looking for my 10mm. "Fucking..." I had to stop in order to groan, but I leaned up anyway.

"Shoot it," commanded Lloyd.

"But, sir..."

"Now, do it now!" Our subway car was half melted, the ceiling now sagging and ruining our cover even more.

The soldier with the two laser pistols gripped his guns hard, and despite the continuous attack by the heavy Automatons, he stood up and began firing. Though he was shot once in the right shoulder, knocking him back a step, I noticed he took careful aim and pulled the trigger.

In a heartbeat, Union's entire metro station filled with a blinding light and the deepest, loudest rumble you had ever heard. I covered my tiny ears for all it was worth, but still they rang with the thunderous roar of the mini nuke. The floor of the subway car -and probably the entire station itself - trembled violently from the explosion, and we were all bathed in its incredible heat. Fortunately, enough of our cover was still intact where we were shielded from the bulk of the mushroom cloud, and our distance sure helped, too. The latter also came in handy when a few seconds later the ceiling of Union's metro began to cave in, crushing the ruined robots and dead Automatons, and hopefully some living ones as well.

When everything had just begun to settle, dust still floating upon the rubble and the floor, Lloyd cried out, "Attack!" and at once the seven of us got to our feet. I hurriedly grabbed my bag and glanced around quickly for my precious Fat Man, which I noticed at the farthest end of the subway car, past the Paladins. As I went for it, everyone looked to be in okay condition after the blast, save the duel-wielding Brother who'd shot the mini nuke. His helmet was heavily damaged and the top part of his armour sparking and black. He did manage to stand, though not very well, and lift both his guns.

"I'll be all right," he growled as he ripped the ruined helmet from his head. Beneath was an old lop-eared rabbit with a noticeable scar across his right eye. His face was half covered, from nose up, with light brown fur while the rest was white, however dirty. I also noticed his left ear had a third of it missing, like it'd been bitten off, while the other had a row of five earrings, evenly spaced but closer to the tip. He was probably of Lloyd's age, and certainly more handsome. The rabbit reloaded his weapons as he followed us off the subway car.

With his laser rifle in his paw - and Fat Man strapped to my back - Lloyd led us quickly across the platform. When an Automaton appeared, Lloyd held out his gun and blasted a horrifying hole in the fur's chest, splattering blood and gore across a ruined pillar. Behind me I heard weapons charging up, and in a moment a Sentry Bot appeared, but it was showered in laser bolts before it could fire off any rockets.

"Move quickly," said Lloyd, booting an enemy in the gut then blowing off his head. I turned swiftly and put a bullet right through a canine's skull, our enemies now slowly starting to emerge. Moving as one unit, we moved through the metro station steadily, killing enemies in every direction with relative ease, all of them carrying typical weapons. With my 10mm still in my right paw, I opted now for Lucky, which proved useful when from behind me an Automaton suddenly appeared. The wolf no longer had half his face, though I think I was now wearing part of it.

After moving half way across the metro station, further away from the subway car and the mini nuke explosion, everything seemed eerily calm. Together we'd taken out at least ten or fifteen more Automatons, and so for now I took this time to reload my guns. I was surprised at how few enemies were left prowling around. I mean, I knew the mini nuke would cause substantial damage, but I could have sworn there were more men around, further away from the explosion than we were.

When we reached the end, the station split into several hallways and a set of stairs. The station seemed to be crumbling all around us, and besides the noise of rubble falling from the walls and the ceiling, nothing could be heard. We all reloaded our weapons, my bag feeling horribly light. I wasn't sure how much ammo I had left, but it didn't feel like much.

"Where to now?" asked the rabbit. His face was dirty, but his neck even more so. I just scratched at my exposed belly, flicking pieces of singed fur away with my pads. Thankfully the hard shells of my combat armour hadn't suffered much, but if I got shot in the stomach again I'd be done for.

"Up," was all Lloyd said before we suddenly heard the snap of a laser bolt and the flash of a red beam. Half a second later, we watched the lop-eared bunny fall, a thin stream of dark smoke trailing from a small black hole in his forehead. His eyes were wide as saucers when he hit the ground.

Immediately we all looked about, and down the longest hall we saw a small band of black-coloured Automatons, who opened fire at once. The six of us leapt immediately for cover, ripping our weapons from our holsters. One of the Brothers was screaming something as Lloyd pulled him away from the rabbit, and thousands of laser bolts hammered the wall across from us, right where we'd just been standing.

"What the fuck weapons were those?" cried one of the Paladins. From what I glimpsed, they looked almost like assault rifles, except with a big drum where the ammo would be, and fired lasers as fast and far more accurately than the Brotherhood's clumsy Gatling lasers.

"James," shouted Lloyd suddenly, snapping me away from the dead Paladin. "Toss a grenade, now. Then we'll open fire."

I nodded and tore my last frag grenade from my pack, pulled the pin, and lobbed it down the hall. When the explosion sounded, the six of us stood and particularly the Paladins with the Gatling lasers, we opened fire upon the disoriented enemies.

As they fell, though, I noticed a few robots in behind them, and before I could shout, I saw the sudden flash of a rocket ejecting, and at once dove out of the way, back to where we were crouched. The explosion against the wall sent me flying even further, but luckily I had enough wits about me to grab my weapons and march back toward Lloyd and the others, who were only now just recovering. Just as an Automaton appeared above one of the Paladins, I snarled and pulled both triggers of my shotgun, blowing his head clean off. When I looked past him, there was at least five more with their weapons about to end me.

I felt a laser suddenly pound against my right shoulder armour, fortunately not ripping straight through, then another tore through my left ear. I cried out and fell, holding my poor little ear, but was surprised to hear a deafening roar, then two bodies fall before me. It was a familiar roar, that of an enormous, pissed off tiger. Though I heard more laserfire crackling all around me, I heard even more pained cries as the bodies fell. When I looked up, Lloyd was hammering down enemies with his club, while the others backed him up with laser pistols.

Ignoring the searing pain in my left ear, and the blood trickling down the side of my face, I got up with a growl and joined them. With my plasma pistol I turned half an Automaton's face into green mush, then blasted the stomach contents of another onto the wall with Lucky. When I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, I gasped in terror and let my instincts get me out of the way of a flying rocket, just as the heat of another flew past. Both rockets exploded behind me, injuring no one except the goo-faced Automaton I'd left back there. When I looked up, Lloyd used an enemy as a meat-shield to protect against rockets, while the others were quickly backing away.

Determined, and probably concussed, I bolted forward as quickly as my feet would allow. I rushed past Lloyd just as another rocket deployed, missing everyone thankfully, having to ignore Lloyd's booming commands. The Bots had Miniguns for arms, too, and as I approached I heard the rotors spinning. With Sparky in paw, I blasted futilely at the right Bot's face, hardly disorienting it but distracting it enough to zip by.

Without much thinking - obviously - I turned and aimed and pulled both of Lucky's triggers, blasting a substantial hole in the Bot's back. Though that hardly slowed it down, the Sentry Bot did buzz and spark and shake for a moment, then it rolled backward a little and began to turn. I held my breath as I reloaded Lucky as quickly as I could, but it would seem my efforts were in vain. "Threat assessment: Red," said the Bot, more sparks flying from its back. "Primary functions...disabled. Shutd-down immanent." But before I received a faceful of lead, the damaged Sentry Bot lifted its Minigun and began punching holes into its partner.

I backed away from the Bots as sparks and stray bullets flew chaotically, and just as the confused hole-punched Bot fell to scrap pieces, a rain of lasers fell on the other, fortunately missing me. With both Sentry Bots down, there was finally a bit of calm again. The scent of burnt electronics and gunpowder and smoke filled my lungs, and I dropped both my guns and fell to my knees immediately, heart racing like mad. My paws were shaking uncontrollably, no doubt from the intense adrenaline from the gunfight. I took a few deep breaths, but it didn't help.

"Jesus fuck," I said when Lloyd approached me. I was still breathing heavily, and it seemed for now Union was out of enemies to throw at us. Of course, we thought that same thing before going down that hallway, too."Just get me the fuck out of here," I said to Lloyd, paw on my face.

"You can go back with the others, if you like."

I shook my head. "The hell I am."

"Commander?" It was the Paladin with the Flamer, who'd used it more extensively against the black-garbed Automatons, as well the stragglers after the small nuclear explosion. He had been using mostly a laser rifle while in the subway car.

Lloyd stood up to regard his Brother.

The soldier then removed his helmet, revealing another old fur, an Australian cattle dog. When he did, that seemed to prompt the other three to remove their helmets, too, the three Gatling laser-wielders. They were all old, at least as old as Lloyd. There was another canine, a beagle and the shortest of the four, as well as an old cheetah and a skunk. The lattermost was probably youngest, though still at least ten years older than me. Had they not armoured their tails - leather-bound, mostly, but some metallic plates - it would have been easier to place their breeds.

"I'm afraid it's only up from here, for you," stated the cattle dog. His left eye, I noticed, was light blue, while the other was dark brown. "Though it seems likely Frost will know we aided you, our mission with you is complete. I...I do wish you the best of luck, sir."

Lloyd nodded solemnly, then the dog dropped a bag. "Thank you. Your help is greatly appreciated, and I couldn't have asked for five finer warriors. Go attend to your fallen."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." With that, the cattle dog saluted the Paladin Commander and turned with the others, dragging their helmets and weapons with them, back down the hall.

"So this is it, huh?" I said to the tiger, finally standing up. My paws were still shaking.

Lloyd picked up the bag and sighed heavily. "Yeah." Inside, I noticed, were a few more pulse grenades.

"What do you think's up there? Think it's just him..?" I was hoping for that more than I was expecting it.

"I don't know," admitted the tired tiger. I gave him a pat on the shoulder, then looked around.

As with the last subway station we were at, this one was equally as squalid. Especially after the mini nuke went off, the walls were all cracked and broken and coming apart, and pieces of walls and the ceiling had caved in all over. Rubble and scrap metal lay about everywhere, and the sight of fresh corpses did nothing to brighten the place up. At least this station didn't have a car in it, fallen in from the surface. The ticket booths were dark and sad and abandoned, with broken or cracked windows and papers and notices were strewn about the floor. I imagined the turnstiles were broken, too, more especially the one that'd been knocked over.

"You ready?" I asked the tiger, finally holstering my weapons. He seemed apprehensive, though it could have just been me. My legs felt weak, and my ear was killing me. At least it had stopped bleeding.

Lloyd took a deep breath. "I think so." Then he paused for a long while, barely moving. I took that time to face the tiger, paws on his muscular arms - despite the fact they were totally armoured - and leaned up to give him a kiss. Nothing crazy, just a quick, gentle peck on his chin. He simply looked down at me, puzzled. Then he smiled.

"I'll be with you," I told him. "I know this is tough, sorta the end of your journey, but you've come so far. Let's kick his fucking ass, 'kay?"

Lloyd then gave me a big hug, squeezing me tightly like it was the last time he ever would. And frankly, it very well could have been. I squeezed back.

"I'll protect you," he promised. "No matter what, I've got your back. You don't have to worry about that."

At last I detached myself from the armoured tiger, peeling myself away reluctantly and looking down past the turnstiles and toward the corridors that led to the stairs and to Union proper. "You know me, Lloyd, I never worry." That was a lie, of course, and we both knew it. But that was that, and after just another moment, we two were off.

Lloyd and I traversed the rough subway station with caution, not enjoying the severe lack of cover. There were shops and booths abound, but all had long since been boarded up or closed down, and there was very little in the way of improvised cover, like tables or benches. The corridors were relatively barren, and without any sharp, 90-degree turns, we were far more exposed than we felt comfortable with. And yet despite that, no one popped up out of nowhere, which was either a good sign or a bad one.

Naturally it made me think there wasn't much opposition left, that all the best shooters and fighters had already been taken care of. Perhaps Frost was up in Union alone, waiting for his men to return with Lloyd's head. But nothing ever turned out quite so well in the Wasteland. It seemed far more likely Frost was waiting for us with the rest of his recruits, luring us into his home with a false sense of security. I tried to convince myself we'd be okay, but I always had my doubts.

At last the tunnel turned into a steady incline, and from the farthest end of the metro's corridors I could see that a massive chamber opened up. For now all I saw was the shattered windows of Union's facade, or what I imagined was its facade, in the distance, the sheer number of them indicating just how enormous the structure truly was, at least compared to any buildings I'd ever seen.

And as we emerged from the metro station below Union, an armour-clad fur slowly came into view, smiling at us as he stood with his arms behind him, standing between two enormous stone pillars. There was no one else around him, and yet he didn't seem even slightly surprised to see us.

The black panther was wearing an armour I hadn't ever seen before, though it was vaguely Brotherhood-like. It was black, or at least a very dark grey, flaking in places but otherwise in good shape. It was a familiar suit of armour, though I couldn't quite place it. His legs were armoured as well, with tubes and wires snaking around and attaching limb to torso, and I imagined his arms were much the same. And yet despite his armour, he also wore a hooded cloak, a ragged old thing made of a dark purple cloth and flowing from his shoulders. From what I could see, predictably, his arms were armoured, too, and yet...there was something not right about his armour. There were so many tubes, and so many exposed wires, even more than Lloyd's when he'd taken his all apart. Nevertheless, the robes covered half of him, and around his neck he wore a heavy chain with a broken cog between his armoured pectorals.

"Lloyd Thompson," said the black panther, speaking slowly and deliberately. His eyes were covered by the hood, and yet it seemed he saw straight through us. "You have finally managed to track me down." The panther smirked.

Lloyd didn't say anything, but I could practically feel his fists clench.

"I'm not sure what you hoped to accomplish here today," he continued, arms falling to his sides. They were massive arms, almost as big as Lloyd's but completely disproportionate. They were mostly hidden by the robe, however. "I can appreciate that you and your little clubhouse over there killed my men, truly. You have guts, I admit, a tenacity rarely seen these days. Perhaps under other circumstances, we could have even been friends."

"You murdered my family!" Lloyd roared, his voice booming from one end of the building to the other. The panther was unmoved.

"Yes, I suppose that did put a damper on things. You were such a loyal slave, too. So strong, and so willing to do anything for them. When this is all over, I'll be sure to tell your pathetic Brotherhood how valiantly you sacked those towns for me, right before I cut off the Elder's head."

"Five of them just took out all your men," I found myself saying. "You think whatever you've got left is gonna stand a chance against the whole Brotherhood of Steel?"

Frost glanced at me incredulously. "Who on earth is this? He's clearly not one of yours."

"James Grayson," I shouted defiantly. "And you killed my fucking parents twenty years ago."

The panther was unimpressed. "Yes, I seem to have a nasty habit of doing that, don't I. Perhaps if you had rounded up every poor Wastelander whose family I killed, you just might stand a chance right now. But getting back to your question, James Grayson, alone my Automatons wouldn't stand a chance against the Brotherhood of Steel. But with Ronto's aid - and they will come to our aid - we will make short work of your little club. Then I can help spread the word of my Lord Hyperion across the entire Wasteland, a task you, Lloyd Thompson, set back by about ten years."

"When I get through with you, Frost, I'll set your wretched operation so far back it may as well never existed."

That made the panther laugh.

I practically heard the snap before Lloyd lunged forward, startling me but not Frost. Lloyd swung his nail-club out of its holster with all his strength, snarling as he came upon the panther. But much to my surprise, Frost quickly braced himself and grabbed the club before it hit him, shaking slightly as he fended off the slavering tiger. Seconds later, before I could even react, Frost ripped the metal pole from Lloyd's paws and kneed the behemoth in the gut, then with shocking ease pushed him back toward the metro tunnels, toward me.

I growled and drew Lucky from its holster, marching upward, but before I could do anything, an alarming group of both Automatons and robots alike emerged seemingly from nowhere, coming to join their leader.

The Automatons were too numerous to count, but all were dressed in dark fashion, much the same shade as the Mr. Gutsy's and Sentry Bots marching with them. Every Automaton held a plasma rifle, and most carried a sidearm as well. All guns were on us, ready to fire on Frost's command. But from what I gathered from Frost's personality, he wouldn't kill us right away, least of all Lloyd.

By the time the Automatons assembled, Lloyd had gotten up and simply growled at the panther. I noticed, though, despite their numbers, how anxious some of the soldiers appeared, like they had never held a gun before in their lives. Though I was hardly any sort of tactician, even I could see their formation was sloppy and poorly held, so much so even the robots looked out of place.

"Surrender to me, and Lord Hyperion, and perhaps there will be a way out of this for you, Lloyd Thompson. Even your friend here may join our ranks."

"I'd rather eat shit," I spat.

Frost glowered at me, unimpressed by my outburst. "That can be arranged. Surely, Thompson, you can see the helplessness here."

"You're a coward, Frost. You're hiding behind your men because when it all comes down to it, you're nothing. You're lower than every one of these slaves."

A few Automatons shifted uncomfortably.

"They're hardly slaves, Thompson. I've since repented and left those days behind. I am the slave now, I bow to my master, Lord Hyperion."

The panther sounded genuine, but I think Lloyd had a hard time believing anything had changed. I sure as hell didn't, and this was my first real encounter with him.

Lloyd just shook his head. "I will never follow you," he growled, "not again. Never again. They may not have slave collars, but every single man here is your property. You invented this religion to gain followers, to make new slaves after I smashed the Red Wasters apart."

Frost chuckled quietly, never giving a single hint as to what he was truly thinking. "Many find it hard to believe that Hyperion exists, even some of these followers you see before you. It is true, yes, I can see it in their eyes, but Hyperion can forgive them. He knows in these desperate times, people often lose themselves and their faith, and understands their plight. Even I found it hard to believe at first, but as my visions became more and more vivid, I knew I'd been divinely touched."

"You're fucking touched, all right."

Frost smiled piously at me, then glanced up at Lloyd.

The tiger just growled in response. "Let's end this, Frost, just you and I. Right here. No more talking, no weapons... You and I, that's all this comes down to."

There was poison behind Frost's smile when he looked at Lloyd. "Although it is tempting, old friend, I'm afraid Hyperion has spoken to me of you. He wants you, Lloyd, you are a part of His Plan. Together you and I will reclaim the Wasteland for Hyperion, to prepare it for His Arrival."

"Oh god," I said, rolling my eyes. I hadn't suspected Frost would be so devout, not truly. But the way he spoke of Hyperion, the more I started to think he actually believed in this stuff. Then again, the Wasteland can make you crazy. Perhaps running from Lloyd for so long had taken its toll, and he really did believe in the visions he apparently saw. And I had no doubt the crazy bastard saw visions, a lot of dying Wastelanders do, or so I'd been told. In a way, I almost felt sorry for him, for believing in something so incredibly ridiculous, but of course I quickly remembered why we were here in the first place.

"No," said Lloyd. He dug his paws into the two bags he carried. "You're an insane old slaver, and you still are. Your tactics have changed, but you're nothing more than a power-hungry degenerate. I came here to kill you, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

With that, Lloyd ripped two pulse grenades from his bags, both buttons already pressed, and held them for just a moment. As the enemies started to raise their guns, my eyes widened and the adrenaline came in a blinding rush. Immediately my paws were on my 10mm and Lucky, and before anyone could open fire, I drew both and began firing, just as Lloyd threw down the grenades and turned to run. As I loosed both barrels of my shotgun and fired only a few rounds of my 10mm, I noticed Frost turning almost as frantically as Lloyd, and of course I did the same. A few hot pinches of green plasma went flying past me as I dove back toward the metro tunnel, the heat nipping at my face and my tail as the shots thankfully missed. A moment later, the grenades detonated.

My ears immediately filled with an excruciating ,high-pitched buzz and the force of the electric blast sent me sliding down the smooth corridor. I could feel my fur standing on end and my whole body was covered in pins and needles. Lloyd was further ahead than me, and didn't seem to be suffering any, which was good since I needed help standing up. I felt dizzy and disoriented at first, and wanted even more to yell at Lloyd for not giving me any warning, but as a few bolts of plasma rushed by, my attention was forced away.

There were several downed robots, thankfully, and it was easy taking out the Automatons. Immediately I holstered Lucky and drew Sparky, letting loose a hail of bullets and plasma together. As several Automatons came barrelling down the tunnel, Lloyd drew his laser rifle and blasted alarming holes in their bodies, ripping and searing through flesh like raw meat. Naturally I ran toward the wall where there was hardly any cover, but it was more than none. As I ran, I managed to shoot out the kneecap of one enemy, the arm and chest of another, then finally a headshot completely by mistake on a third. I pressed myself against the wall and ducked a bit, ripping into my bag for ammo, reloading both weapons quickly. Then I stood up again and turned one fur's weapon into smouldering green goo, as well as severely burning his paws, then used my 10mm to stop an enemy from shooting Lloyd.

Lloyd, as he was firing his broken (yet horribly effective) laser rifle, drew another pulse grenade from his bag and tossed it toward me. I caught it quickly, pressed the button and threw it up the corridor, where some robots were starting to descend. When it went off. I opened fire from afar on the robots, taking out the flame-throwing Gutsy first, but was forced to run when an almost-disabled Sentry Bot raised its missile launcher at me. I felt the explosion behind me, throwing me across the corridor to Lloyd's side, but I was quick to fire again.

Though I didn't take down the Sentry Bot, I was at least able to disorient it enough so when it fired a missile, it inadvertently shot the backs of its own men, which showered Lloyd, myself, and at least six Automatons, in a chunky red mist. That got the attention of some Automatons, who if they weren't scared enough, were petrified now. The ones who threw down their guns and ran into the metro Lloyd and I ignored, as well as the few totally coated (and crying) in their comrades' gore, but a substantial amount still stood next to their robotic brothers, safely out of range of their weapons.

Then the Sentry Bot, who was soon joined by two more, began firing it's Gatling laser, which Lloyd managed to avoid most of, save the bolts that his armour was able to deflect. More and more shots rained upon Lloyd and I, myself finding cover behind part of a ruined Gutsy and a dead Automaton, but with Lloyd trapped and his armour no doubt about to fail him, I decided I needed to do something drastic. I dug into my bag as the dead Automaton's arm ripped off in a green, gooey fury, pulling out my second-to-last mini nuke. With adrenaline-fuelled ease, I swung Fat Man around my shoulder, placed the nuke into the rails, and yelled, "Lloyd, get back!"

When the tiger saw me, it took him less than a second to see what I was going to do - as evidenced by his enormously wide eyes - and frantically clambered from his cover of corpses. He took on dozens of laserfire and plasma bolts, as well as some bullets from the Sentry Bots, but seemed relatively unharmed as he came toward me. When he slid behind my pathetic cover, however - a beast like him required more than a few scraps of meat and a robot to cover him - I saw he was shaking, some blood dripping down his face and he held onto the side of his stomach.

Then I took aim, and loosed the mini nuke. A heart-pounding second later, a powerful explosion rocked the whole of Union, throwing both Lloyd and I - and our cover - back even further into the metro station, blinding us with its extraordinary light. The noise rumbled terribly through the walls, shaking them enough to cause alarming amounts of wall and ceiling to come crashing down. A few seconds later and it was all over, my body feeling significantly colder when the heat of the explosion died down. The entrance to Union was completely demolished, and half-vapourized body parts now decorated the corridor. Shockingly, there wasn't much blood, having no doubt been completely vapourized, unlike the arms and legs and various other chunks of gore I could scarcely name. Fortunately there was no longer any functioning robots, and if any Automatons had survived the blast, they were either too far back into Union to see, or they decided to book it. Either way, Lloyd and I were left alone.

I was quick to get up, however shaky, my ears ringing even worse than before. I heard more rubble crumbling down, and though I could hear Lloyd moving, it seemed as if the noise was miles away. Then he groaned, and I was quick to help him out, though I was probably just as disoriented as he was. Though trembling, he looked up at the end of the metro's corridor to see the same horrifying mess I did, then glanced at me. He looked as if he wanted to lecture me on giving him more warning, but like a good tiger he kept his maw shut.

"Let's go," was all he said to me, despite his blackened, dented and sparking armour. It was still functioning, though, which was good, but I was more worried about the blood trickling down his face. And yet I followed anyway, recollecting Fat Man and reloading all my guns as we came into Union proper.

Though damaged from the mini nuke, the enormous hall itself was still in amazing condition, all things considered. The pillars outside of the metro's entrance were of course severely damaged by yours truly, though thankfully it was still intact enough to hold up the ceiling. In the centre of the great hall was what looked like an information booth-turned-altar, but most amazing was just how high the ceiling was. Everything was in domes and arches, but more markedly at both ends of the building was an enormous archway, and in the centre of both rose a massive arched window. The glass was mostly all shattered, of course, but it was still an amazing sight. Never before had I seen a building so grand, least of all one in such good condition. Our quiet footsteps sounded more like booming stomps as the noise echoed off the stony walls, which would have made sneaking in here an impossible task.

Unfortunately, down on ground level, the picture was far less impressive. Corpses of both furs and robots alike smeared across the floor like a giant hand had swept through the building, crushing everything in its path. Blood was everywhere, save the blast area, and chunks of gore decorated the altar and the walls and the floor, even stretching to the other end of the hall, where I presumed the street entrance was. There were a few Automatons still left alive, just staring without their weapons at the amazing mess I'd spread across the hall, while others further away were struggling to get up. Some were missing limbs, while some had their faces half melted off, which admittedly made me feel a little sick.

"Fuck," I muttered, turning my eyes away from an Automaton who no longer had any.

Lloyd and I stood in the centre of the mess, by the small black crater left by the mini nuke, myself bemused by the horror I'd wrought. Perhaps because it was so much less confined here, there was a shockingly larger mess than there had been in the metro station below us, when I first unleashed a mini nuke.

"We have to find Frost," said Lloyd at last, peeling his eyes away from the bloody mess of corpses. He looked around, yet the panther was nowhere to be found. Lloyd growled. "Frost!" he suddenly roared, startling me slightly as his voice thundered across the entire hall. Yet he was met with silence.

Slowly the two of us made our way further into Union, toward the altar. I realized though this hall was enormous, much of it had been sectioned off, probably as a sleeping quarters for some, an infirmary for others, and a mess of other rooms necessary for housing dozens of men. And yet all above the nasty, eight-foot-high walls, which were mostly made up of old rusty sheet metal and pieces of scrap, Union had retained its spacious beauty. Only a few small sections of the walled off areas had a second level, possibly for use as sentries, I couldn't be sure.

"Come back here, coward!" boomed Lloyd again, his thunderous voice echoing for a long while before dying off. The few straggling Automatons just ignored Lloyd, though several had looked over.

Suddenly, from somewhere the familiar sound of a Minigun's rotors began winding up, and in an instant Lloyd and I were desperately running to find cover. A hail of bullets came raining upon the altar as the tiger and I hid, surprised any Sentry Bots had survived, or rather, surprised more they had somehow been able to sneak up on us; they were monstrous beasts, and noisy.

When at last the weaponsfire stopped, I heard a deep, maniacal laughing from somewhere around us. "You cannot stop me," growled Frost, his presence still unknown. Both Lloyd and I poked our heads up to find him, but nowhere could he be seen. And yet his voice echoed as if he was standing right next to us. "You cut through my men with your cheap show, but their souls have joined Hyperion in the Great Mainframe! When He descends, He will wipe you off the face of the Wasteland with barely a thought. Unless I destroy you first."

"Show yourself!" cried Lloyd, standing up. A second later, though, he was forced back into his cover as this time a rain of lasers came upon us. Lloyd was breathing heavily, and growling with every breath. "I can't see him!" he snarled. "Nor can I see his damnable Sentry Bot."

Then Lloyd and I were greeted with both a shower of lasers and bullets, which was not a usual tactic for Sentry Bots. Either Frost had two with him, or he'd somehow reprogrammed a Bot to fire both weapons at the same time. If that was the case, it stood to reason the Bot's targeting would be seriously dampened. Like most my theories, though, this one was based on nothing.

"It can't aim at us both," I said, basing that theory on experience. Most robots seemed to pick a target, generally the one that poses the greatest threat, and concentrate their fire until the target is eliminated. "If we both book it, one of us will get a chance to attack it. Then Frost is ours."

Lloyd took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, evidently agreeing with my plan. I wasn't particularly fond of it, though secretly I was hoping the Bot would take aim at Lloyd, being the larger target. I felt bad for thinking that, but I wanted to live as much as anyone. "On my mark..." Lloyd took a few deep breaths, and so did I, until I said, "Now!" and we both bolted.

Coming out from the centre of the altar, I darted left while Lloyd went right. Immediately lasers fell upon us, unfortunately chasing me. I was just barely able to keep ahead of the lasers, watching the corners of my eyes for where the shooting was coming from, my poor footpaws carrying me faster than they ever had, fuelled almost entirely by adrenaline. I was coming up to some cover, an entranceway leading to Ronto's streets, and as I ran I noticed a subtle flashing to my left, at the far end of Union's great hall. But what really shocked me was it was firing its bullets at Lloyd as well, which defied everything I knew about robot behaviour.

Only a few feet from the cover, I suddenly felt an intensely hot bolt strike the side of my ribs, knocking the wind out of me like someone had hit me with a hammer, sending me to the right. I cried out as I fell hard, rolling into a piece of rubble as my side burned almost as hard as the gunshot wound I'd suffered before. I held the smoky black spot on my ribs, the laser unfortunately missing the plated armour and striking the combat webbing directly. The strap holding the front and back armour pieces together was almost sliced in two, but would hopefully hold together until this was all over.

I struggled to breathe as I got to my footpaws, seeing the Sentry Bot at the other side of the altar, further toward the end, firing upon a ticket booth or a shop or something, no doubt where Lloyd was. Though injured, I drew my weapons and opened fire immediately, knowing neither my 10mm nor Sparky would hurt the hulking robot, but I had to try.

It wasn't until the Bot faltered and staggered backward when I realized it wasn't a Sentry Bot at all. "The...fuck..?" I had to say, not having a particularly clear view of my target. And before I could get one, more lasers rained upon me, forcing me to dive back toward the altar.

"Stop this madness now!" Frost yelled, obviously trying to suppress his laughter. He didn't do a very good job at it. "You cannot hope to win." For now he was letting his weapons cool down, or so I assumed. I didn't hear Lloyd yelling back, which put a big pit in my stomach.

"Fuck you!" I snarled, trying desperately not to think of a dead tiger. I reloaded my guns, realizing quickly I was down to my last clip of 10mm ammo, and only two energy cells left. I was sorely tempted to use Fat Man against Frost, but thinking about the mass of gore currently surrounding me really put me off. Plus I had no idea how close Lloyd would be to the blast radius, assuming he was still alive. I then heard quiet footsteps.

When I looked up to see what was happening, I noticed Frost backing toward the exit, guns still aimed. Though it took me a moment, I quickly realized he wasn't duel-wielding two heavy weapons, but instead his arms were the heavy weapons. It then began to dawn on me that his armour wasn't truly armour at all, but the body of a Sentry Bot and his legs were made up of similar parts. His arms were grotesquely huge, comparative to that of a Sentry Bot, but enormous for a normal fur. I didn't know whether he'd simply fashioned armour from an old Sentry Bot or if, like Jaime in Vault 95, he'd grafted robotic pieces to his own body. Regardless of his armour, I sure as hell wasn't about to let the psychotic slaver get away.

As Frost backed toward the exit, I stood up and somehow couldn't help but cry out as I leapt over the old information desk and fired both weapons at his half-armoured face, steadily moving toward him; the upper part of his head was protected by a helmet clearly made from a scrapped Sentry Bot, that much I could tell.

Frost snarled at me and aimed his guns, but with my bullets knocking him back and plasma distracting him, he found it difficult to take aim. Soon my 10mm was emptied and I dropped it at once, praying to every god besides Hyperion that his sporadic and wild shooting wasn't going to hit me. Lasers and bullets zipped past my head and my body and I moved as best I could to avoid getting shot, all while I continued to fire Sparky until the energy cell was depleted. This gave Frost time to recover and focus, despite dripping hot green goo from his helmet and his body and arms, and he growled at me and aimed his Gatling laser arm at last. As I heard the weapon charging from about ten feet away, I threw Sparky aside and in a very fluid motion, my paw flew to my right hip.

I gripped Lucky tightly and drew it faster than I think I ever had, firing without much aim. I managed to hit the Gatling laser arm just as a few red beams shot out toward my face, one of them slicing through my cheek. Both of us staggered back, myself falling to one knee, but as his Minigun arm began to take aim, I pulled the second trigger and blasted the damned panther right in the face.

Though I'd knocked the slaver back, he was far from dead. He snarled and roared before recovering, ripping his helmet from his face, which had been badly damaged. It was then I saw unlike regular Sentry Bots, his arms still had paws, however mechanic. They were certainly twisted limbs, no way just a suit of armour. Regardless, Frost snarled and aimed his Minigun at me again.

Looking up at the bloodied, half-robotic panther, I saw only hatred and anger in his eyes. There was nothing divine about him, more so as the rotors began spinning. Desperately, my paw sifted through blood and bits of gore, hoping to find a gun or a piece of rubble or something to save me. I took a few deep breaths as the rotors spun faster, knowing in just a few short seconds, I'd be nothing more than a fine paste spread across Union's smooth floor like I'd done to so many Automatons before this. I closed my eyes as my paw slid through the slick red mess, trying hard to come to terms with my death in my final seconds, finding it extremely difficult under such stressful circumstances. Then my paw found something.

I held whatever this object was - it was hard, and thick, and had a lot of weight to it - as tightly as I could, knowing this was my last chance to live. Instantly I began to swing the long object with all my might, swinging it blindly at Frost hoping it would be enough. The object suddenly came upon something, something that burst with the sound of gunfire immediately after hitting it, and some instinct I didn't know I had made me roll to my left, out of the way of the firing Minigun and away from Frost.

I still held the object, and when I got to my footpaws I held it tightly like a club and cried out as I took another swing, knocking Frost's firing arm down to the floor which sent thousands of shards of tile and blood flying through the air, exploding upward.

When I took a second to notice exactly what I'd found, while it flew through the air to attack Frost again, my heart jumped to see a bunch of old nails welded to the end of a big heavy pipe. Feeling invigorated, I snarled as the nail-club came down upon Frost's arm again, managing to stop him from firing long enough slam it into his ribs, or his armoured ribs, then down onto his shoulder. The next blow, down on his shoulder again, brought Frost to one knee, but when I went to give him one final blow to the head, he had somehow caught the end of the club.

Holding onto the nail end, Frost quickly ripped the club from my paws, causing me to stagger forward a bit. In a very fluid motion, the panther slammed his black, metallic fist into my ribs, right where a fresh laser wound was. I fell to my side instantly, crying out and desperately trying to catch my breath, holding my ribs. With great pain, I lifted myself up on one paw, looking up with just enough time to see the club's handle swinging toward me, then it smashed into my jaw.

An enormous pain ripped through my face as I fell back, spreading down my neck. I landed with a thud, my ears ringing loudly and head pounding like a bloody jackhammer, my vision a blur. The metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth in an instant, which I spat out messily as I tried to catch my breath. When I spat out one of my teeth, I managed to look up at the half-robotic panther again, seeing my end was near.

Though it sounds kind of cliché, my thoughts went immediately to my adoptive parents, to all the good times and even the bad times we had. I saw myself swimming, firing a gun, the dead raiders, even things I didn't realize I still remembered like the time I saw Amon naked. I saw Chase, his old battle-worn face and everything he'd taught me. Then I saw my Golden Behemoth. Just...him. He was nude, strangely, yet powerful and protective as he stood there. I saw us hugging, then kissing, and before I could see much more, I saw Frost with a bloody face and a bloody club, about to smash my head in.

But before he had that chance, much to my surprise and incredible delight, I heard a thunderous roar. A bestial roar, one I'd heard only a few times in my life, but not one nearly as frightening as this. With Frost momentarily distracted, I managed to sit up a bit more, just as the roar boomed across the entire hall once more, then a second later, a metallic blur slammed into Frost.

Shakily I got myself up, watching as Lloyd's powerful fist came down on Frost's face, snarling as the panther staggered to his right. Filled with excitement, I watched as Lloyd kneed the robotic prophet in the gut, but before he could land another blow, Frost had managed to block it.

The two behemoth cats snarled and roared as fists and claws flew through the air, both of them seeming equally matched. In his bright suit of metal, Lloyd leaned back and let a black fist fly past his face, then countered with a severe headbutt. Though Frost seemed staggered, he'd recovered quickly enough to block Lloyd's punch, countering with his own but had it blocked as well. The two continued to throw punches at one another, metal scraping horribly against metal as they clashed, sparks and blood flying.

Lloyd then received a hearty fist-blow to his left cheek, to which he responded in kind with a kick of his own, right to Frost's knee. The panther cried out, but swiped his metal claws at Lloyd all the same, which the tiger was able to avoid. Lloyd held Frost's mechanical wrist and punched him in the side of the head, then again, until he released his wrist and kneed him in the gut. But before his knee could make contact, Frost had amazingly blocked the attack and punched the tiger in the chest.

He staggered back, but as Frost's fist flew, Lloyd raised his left arm to block it, then threw his own fist at Frost's ribs. But Frost had deflected it and struck the tiger again in the left cheek, spraying more blood, both the giant cats snarling like wild beasts. But not one to be stopped, the powerhouse named Lloyd Thompson clenched his right fist tightly and gave one amazing swing. Though Frost had blocked it, the screeching, sparking force was enough to make the panther falter.

With that single bit of advantage, Lloyd snarled bestially and hammered Frost in the face, probably the most vulnerable part of his body, then again with the other fist. Blood spewed from Frost's maw as he fell back, snarling terribly as he took yet another metallic fist to the face. At last, Lloyd got the panther down on his back, where he promptly held Frost by the front of his armour and hammered away at his face, the fury and pain surging violently outward.

I could see tears streaming down Lloyd's cheeks as his fist turned a bloody red, his old weathered features twisted into pure hate. Again and again he pummelled the black panther, snarling and roaring as he let his fists fly. He then let the panther drop and used his other fist, then slammed his footpaw down on his chest and let out some of the most grief-filled, agonizing roars I had ever heard.

"Lloyd," I called out, approaching him slowly. I was trembling, and far more bloody than he was, and my jaw throbbed horribly.

The tiger glanced over at me, face still twisted into that terrible mask of hate, panting heavily as both blood and slaver poured from his maw. It was enough to make me take a step back, but soon enough his face softened and he released the half-dead panther. His fists were clenched as he stood up straight, then turned to face me. I could see enormous pain in his eyes, and not from the several gunshot wounds he'd suffered, a few of the dozen hits having pierced his armour.

Immediately I embraced the giant tiger, arms wrapped tightly around him. Though he was wearing thick metal armour, I rubbed his back all the same, trying as best I could to comfort him. He had waited over twenty years for this moment, and I imagined it went nothing like how he thought it would. Though I couldn't read his mind, I didn't feel any amount of solace from the tiger, despite he'd defeated his most hated enemy. I could still feel all that pain and grief and hatred I'd felt throughout our entire journey, all of it very much still alive.

At last, the rage-filled tiger patted my back in return, giving me a bit of a rub. I could feel a bit of tension melting away, though it was still extremely high. My paws were shaking and my legs felt weak, like after the fight in the metro, except now it truly seemed as if it was all over. Slowly the tiger and I stepped away from each other and looked back toward the bloody, beaten Frost.

"So he's really fucking dead..?" I asked quietly, paw gripping Lloyd's arm.

Before the tiger could answer, Frost suddenly stirred, groaning and growling, trying to get to his paws and knees. "Hy-Hyperion...will..."

Lloyd snarled and grabbed the panther by his bloody and torn cloak and lifted him up, face wrinkled into that hate-filled mask once more. With teeth bared, Lloyd roared in Frost's beaten face and kicked him back. Frost landed on his rump with a loud thud. No doubt his head and face was pounding. "Spare me your lies, Frost," Lloyd snarled sharply. His paws were in fists again.

Frost growled. "God damn you, Lloyd Thompson. You're nothing, do you understand? You're fucking nothing! You're just a slave, a worthless slave, it's what you were born to do. You and that pretty wife of yours, and that squealing little brat..."

With that three-beam laser rifle in paw, Lloyd stomped on Frost's chest and aimed the gun right at the panther's face, pressing his head back into the bloody floor. "Don't you dare mention them."

"Go to hell," spat the panther. "Hyperion is coming, He comes for us all. You know, the best thing about being a slaver..." Frost then laughed, despite Lloyd on top of him. "I can fuck whoever the fuck I want... That little wife of yours, Lloyd Thompson...she was something else. I even..." Then he laughed again, and my heart sank. "That kid of yours... Never had a taste for the same sex, nor did most my men, but there was something about your kid..."

Lloyd stood up and rather than end Frost's life right away, which I was expecting, he instead aimed it at the panther's upper arm and blasted away. Again and again he fired, listening to Frost's endless chorus of screams and cries, until the arm was totally severed from his body. Upon closer inspection, I saw it wasn't just a mechanical arm, but all the metal and wires and electronics were completely intertwined with the panther's flesh. Blood and oil began to pool where the arm was severed, and Frost continued to cry out and moan.

"You are a monster," said Lloyd, stepping off Frost. He let the panther coddle his missing arm for a short while, until he started to laugh.

"You fool," growled Frost, a nasty smile on his face. "You stupid...stupid...fool."

Suddenly, before either of us could respond, a loud rumbling came from all around us, like an earthquake that shook the entire building. Frost laughed even harder.

"It is Hyperion's second coming!" bellowed the panther, rolling onto his back.

Before either Lloyd or I could get any straight answers from Frost, we simply watched as enormous cracks appeared at the farthest end of Union's great hall, a mound slowly rising up. Seconds later, both the floor and the wall to the right exploded in a fury of stone and glass and metal and dirt, and from the wall came the massive jaws of a robotic beast never seen before in the history of the Wasteland. With a mouth like a Deathclaw, it opened up and let out a loud, horrifying cry, smashing one arm through the rest of the wall as it came into the building.

As it entered, the awkward, four-legged robot continued to knock down the walls and the ceiling, clearly unable to fit, yet it tried anyway. Giant chunks of Union went flying, smashing around us with a deafening crash, a noise louder and deeper and far more dizzying than that of a mini nuke. When I got a good look at the monster, I saw it stood almost as tall as Union itself, its massive arms smashing through the structure like it was a house of cards, and its cry was like nothing I'd ever heard before. Its roar echoed through Union once again, like a horrid mix of a Deathclaw and a ghoul, high-pitched and powerful. It crashed through the second wall, which caused an enormous portion of the ceiling to fall on top of its head, but it shook it off with ease.

Frost was laughing happily. "Hyperion!" he shouted. "My Lord and Master, you have come! At last we can reclaim the Wasteland!"

In our awe, neither of us seemed to notice Frost had gotten up and began moving toward the altar, and toward the giant, eighty-foot-tall behemoth robot, roaring still and smashing through the walls like a maniac as it tried to clamber into the building. As Lloyd and I were backing away, its massive head turned toward us, like we'd been targeted, and roared madly. It climbed in further, it's impossibly long arms used for both support for its torso and for smashing things, while its powerful but comparatively short legs kept it mobile. Whoever had designed this robot must have had a Deathclaw in mind, though it was built much more heartily like a Yao Guai. The real question was, who the hell built this thing? At first glance, it seemed as if the beast was made from of parts of thousands of other robots, but how does one do that without anyone noticing?

Frost continued to stagger toward what he called Hyperion, dropping a small device as he moved past his altar. I assumed it was an activation device of some kind, similar to remote charges I've had the pleasure of setting off a few times before in my life. Of course, this remote wasn't detonating an improvised explosive device, but instead activating a once-dormant robot-to-end-all-robots capable of smashing buildings to dust with hardly even trying.

When Hyperion looked down at what I could only assume was its creator, or the one behind its creation, it cocked its head like a confused dog which gave Frost pause. It also gave me time to arm myself with Fat Man, placing my last mini nuke into the long rail system.

Frost held up his arms toward the massive beast, in awe of his own creation. "There are sinners among us, Lord Hyperion," snarled the panther. He pointed his arm toward us, which made Hyperion look our way again, and more notably, to me aiming a gun at it. My heart was pounding, but for now we were far enough away where I could fire a shot before it crushed us. At least, I hoped we were. Regardless, Lloyd and I backed up a little further, but Frost continued to yell. "Destroy the blasphemers, my Lord, send them to hell! We have so much we need to do!"

Hyperion roared again, shaking the walls and the floor, then smashed a hand into the floor. It roared again, this time raising its head as if to alert the entire city, then threw its paw through the wall, demolishing the entrance to the metro tunnels and everything above it.

"Kill them, kill them now!"

After one final roar, Hyperion looked down through its glowing, beady eyes, of which there were a few, staring at its creator for a good, long while. Somehow it frowned without moving, and raised a paw high above the panther. Though Frost staggered back for a moment, Lloyd and I watched as Hyperion slammed its metal paw down on the old slaver, then smeared his oil and blood across the ruined marble floor.

"Holy shit," I heard myself say, gazing stupidly at the blackish, chunky streak across the floor. No recognizable trace of Frost was left behind, not even a bit of fur. Only the remains of a demolished, vaguely robotic form lay where Hyperion had swept his paw, twisted and black and coated in blood.

"Now!" I suddenly heard, snapping me from my stupor. At once I loosed my final mini nuke. Just as Hyperion looked at us, the bomb struck the beast and unleashed a blinding explosion with enough power to knock both Lloyd and I back into the furthest wall, which was only a few feet away. When the thunderous blast began to die down, as well as Hyperion's horrifying cries, Lloyd and I staggered to our feet, Lloyd having more trouble with it because of his wounds. But when we looked back at the beast, whose head had crushed Frost's altar, its eyes were dim for but a moment. In just the instant before relief could settle in, its eyes seemed to blink back on and it began to move once more, several large chunks of it sparking and shooting off, but it was otherwise unharmed.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," I began, watching as the monstrous robot rose. It let out a terrible cry and smashed both paws (or claws, or whatever they were), into the floor several times, uplifting tons of marble and dirt as it thrashed about.

In just moments, it swung its arms to the right, demolishing at least two-thirds of the facade, showering the street with limestone and rubble, as well as the building next to us. Then the monster tore down the roof (before it collapsed on its own) and smashed through the opposite wall, roaring all the while.

Having watched it enough, Lloyd and I quickly made our way to the door, smashing through it with ease and took off into the empty streets of Ronto. But it didn't take long for Hyperion to make chase, crashing through Union like it was made of toy blocks and staggering into the building across from it, a hotel if memory served me right. Though stunned for a second, it quickly recovered, smashing the hotel all around it as it got back to its feet, which caused even greater damage to the collapsing floors above. As it ran, the ground rumbled beneath us, and though Lloyd and I were running as fast as we could, compared to the eighty-foot monster robot, we might as well have been standing still.

And yet we were able to stay barely a step ahead of it as we took off toward the Tower, I think that explosion having done far more damage than I first realized. Though Hyperion was fast, and of course a tower compared to either of us, every five steps or so it would stumble, either smashing the road to pieces in front of it or falling to its side to crash through a building. All I could think was I hoped there weren't people living in it, though I had heard from some of the Knights that the hotel across from Union was as ritzy as they came. Of course, my thought above all that was something along the lines of, "Holy shit, I'm gonna die."

As I ran, holding onto Lloyd, I was suddenly startled to feel him beginning to slow down, and as Hyperion made quick work of another building, showering the street in glass and even more rubble, Lloyd at last toppled forward.

"Come on!" I cried, pulling on Lloyd's arm, but he seemed intent on staying on his paws and knees.

"I can't," he said, breathing hard. I'd nearly forgotten he'd been shot, and would have carried him if I could, but even without his armour it would have been impossible for me. "You go, James. Go..."

"Fuck you, Lloyd," I cried, watching Hyperion struggle to stand up. It was at least a block away. "I'm not losing another...another mate, because he told me to run. So fuck you, I'm not goin' anywhere!"

Lloyd growled, though whether it was at me or at the stomping on the ground I couldn't say.

I pulled on Lloyd's arm as the monster drew nearer, begging him to find strength, and though he tried, it wasn't enough. The tiger was far too weak. I ripped into my bag and plunged two Med-X's at once into the side of his muscular neck, and despite Hyperion approaching, gave him a Stimpak, too, injecting it on the other side. But it was too little, too late.

Towering above us was a robot of impossible size. It roared, and roared again, then smashed a building to pieces to its right as if to show off its strength before squashing us like bugs. Then it raised its paw, gave us one last look, and I forced myself to close my eyes. I held onto Lloyd so we would die together, praying for some kind of divine intervention. Even Ronto's military would have sufficed. And as I held onto the tiger tighter than I'd ever held onto another fur, feeling my death approaching from above, that divine intervention came in the form of the loudest lightning crack I had ever heard.

Hyperion roared like frenzied animal, one of the worst screams to ever fill my ears, falling backward onto the street. It's giant arms flailed and demolished even more of Ronto's structures as it fell, screaming louder when another lightning crack struck it square in the chest. Its arms slammed into the ground and into the ruined buildings, and as it rolled around and tried to get up, a third bright bolt came screaming from out of nowhere.

I looked around as Lloyd slowly got up, watching as pieces of Hyperion exploded from its body, revealing smoking hydraulics and crackling electronics. The armour along its spine suddenly exploded, and seconds later I watched this mysterious attacker fire another blast. When I turned around, I saw standing in the centre of the Skybridge a small, red-cloaked arctic fox holding a weapon far too large for his body, as well as five Paladins to his left and right. Scribe Aldebourne stood above us all, partially silhouetted by the mid-afternoon sun and ready to fire again.

The weapon, presumably Aldebourne's secret project he didn't want Scribe Blackwood talking about, was hard to see with it being so high up and at least half a block away, but I could tell it was long and heavy, shoulder-mounted and somewhat drum-shaped, more especially where it rested on the Scribe's shoulder. The muzzle was not unlike Fat Man's, however the rail system of this weapon was split into three long sections, creating a channel, I assumed, for projecting the energy forward, which I could see stored up in the glowing glass segment before the rails. The grip and trigger, I noticed, was situated just below the rail system, and when the short Scribe fired again, I saw him reload a new electron charge pack into the back.

Hyperion let out another scream as its robotic spine was overcharged by the weapon, more pieces of it falling apart and flying off. With another attack on its spine, I helped Lloyd up and he and I continued back toward the Skybridge, until we were greeted by several fresh soldiers. When I turned around, I noticed the monster robot shaking uncontrollably, pieces of it constantly blowing apart. It roared and roared as if praying for its lord to come help, but of course none did. As it tried to stand, something blew in its shoulder and the whole right arm flew off, crashing into the rubble of the building next to Union. Though it tried desperately to come after us, another shot from Aldebourne's weapon blew apart a chunk of its leg, then a large part of its remaining arm, until finally all it could do was cry out in its horrible agonizing scream, flailing and jerking about as it lost control of its motor functions. Seconds later, Hyperion's entire chest exploded in a massive eruption of fire and dust and radiation, the enormous mushroom cloud thundering upward as its head crashed toward us; it stopped less than a block away, eyes dimming. Shockingly, nuclear-powered robots were unheard of, even in the Wasteland, but then who could say when it was a robot god?

EPILOGUE

Lloyd recovered from his wounds quickly, and in about a week he was walking normally again. Well, he carried a cane with him just in case, but otherwise he was fine. I stayed with him, though, for almost the entire time he was in the infirmary with Doctor Tanning. I was told numerous times it wasn't necessary for me to see Lloyd so often, that they were relatively minor wounds and would be easy to patch up, but I stayed anyway. He and I even slept together at night, or rather, I shared a bed. He wasn't well enough yet for something as vigorous as sex, but that hardly mattered.

That morning, I found the tiger out on the Skybridge, staring down the tracks toward Union. He was wearing a clean tank top, army green, and his old pair of shorts. Union wasn't smoking anymore, though the destruction was immense. No one would ever be able to inhabit that building again, which I learned had first opened up long, long before the Great War, since 1929. I didn't know where Lloyd had learned that, but it was fascinating, and kind of sad, all the same.

"How're you feeling?" I asked the tiger as I approached him. I also discovered the Skybridge had been extended by the Brotherhood many decades ago, sometime after they moved in, and the one Aldebourne defended us from reached across the street, rather than this one over the railroad.

"Good," said Lloyd, inviting me to sit with him. I sat close, holding onto his right arm, the one that hadn't been shot.

"I've been meaning to ask...just outta curiosity. You disappointed you didn't get to kill Frost yourself?"

Lloyd Thompson smiled briefly at me, then shrugged. "I suppose a little bit, but I'm not losing any sleep over it."

I pressed my face against his arm and sighed. "I'm glad you're doing okay."

As it turned out, despite the Brotherhood "causing trouble" in Ronto, they were allowed to stay if for no other reason than for stopping Hyperion before it destroyed the more populated parts of the city, though dozens of civilian lives were lost. They had no idea Frost and his men had been building that robot, which was discovered after excavating Union's crumbling ruins. Apparently the Automatons, or Frost, rather, had ill-conceived plans to eradicate the local chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, then move his army on to decimate the others. Of course not one part of his plans had come to light, thanks to Lloyd and his quest for revenge, though it seemed unlikely to succeed anyway. Besides, with Aldebourne's new weapon, that would have been a task until itself with or without Lloyd's intervention.

"So what do we do now?" I asked with a sigh. My life had been so dull before all of this, going back to it seemed so...mundane. "What's our next big adventure?"

Lloyd shifted uncomfortably, which made me a little nervous. He also didn't respond, which was never a good sign.

"What is it?"

"I'm not going anywhere, James."

I released Lloyd's arm. "What..? Why not? What do you mean?"

"This is my home, this is where I belong. I have an obligation to these men, especially now that my mission is over."

"And what's your next mission, to guard this wretched city? C'mon, Lloyd, you don't need to stay here with the Brotherhood, you and I can find our own way."

Lloyd just stared at me with sympathetic eyes.

"Well, what the fuck? What am I supposed to do? Join you?" I scoffed at the idea. Something horrible was starting to wrench in my chest.

Lloyd shrugged as if to suggest "why not?"

"I can't join the Brotherhood of Steel, you know that. I mean, really, do you see me joining the Brotherhood? I'm just a Wastelander, Lloyd, and so are you. I can't take orders and sit around and do nothing. That's...just not the life for me."

Lloyd sighed. "I know. But you could stay here, if you wanted."

"I don't want to stay here, Lloyd. You've been wandering around the Wasteland almost all your life, how can you stand staying in one place?"

The tiger shrugged, a gesture I was quickly getting sick of seeing. "It doesn't matter where I am in the Wasteland, James, my place is here."

"There's..." I had to pause before I became too choked up to speak. "There's dozens of others who can take your place, they don't... Well, I know this is gonna sound harsh, but they don't need you here."

"I'm sorry, James."

My paws suddenly clenched into fists. "Are you fucking serious?"

Lloyd didn't say anything.

I felt my lips trembling and tears began to well up, heart hammering painfully against my chest. "God damn it," I said, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. I had to look away. "God damn you, Lloyd. So what the fuck was all of this for, hm? Why... Why draw me fucking in like that, if you knew it'd have to end somewhere?"

"It wasn't my intention to develop feelings for you, James."

"No, of fucking course it wasn't. God..."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop...fuck... Stop saying that, okay? I know you're sorry. I...I should have fucking guessed this would happen."

The tiger put a paw on my shoulder, but I wrenched it away. "Don't touch me," I said, now standing up. My heart was still pounding heavily against my chest, and I felt like I wanted to throw up. My paws were shaking and I wanted nothing more than to run away. My breathing was heavy and I could feel a few more tears trickling down my face. "Fuck," I spat, folding my arms across my chest.

Lloyd got up and he put his arms around me, and though I tried to get away, I didn't try very damn hard. His body was so warm in the morning light, and though I wanted to punch him, I wanted to keep holding on forever.

Finally I turned around, eyes closed tight and I held onto my golden behemoth as hard as I could, knowing this was probably going to be the last time he and I would ever share such an embrace again. "I fucking love you," I said, sniffling horribly. Even Lloyd sniffled a little.

"I love you, too, James Grayson. More than you know."

I sighed heavily, gave him one last squeeze, then together Lloyd and I got something to eat. The meal was bitter, and we ate mostly in silence, my heart still horribly twisted. Though my gut was knotted, I forced my food down all the same until there was nothing left to eat. Lloyd accompanied me back to where I kept my stuff and helped me gather everything up. He helped me repair my guns and gave me plenty of ammo for all three, as well as lots of food and enough medical supplies to last me a good while. I decided to leave Fat Man with him, as something to work on if he wanted to, or to give it to Aldebourne to look at.

Before my leave, Elder Tarle told me I would always be welcome in the Brotherhood of Steel, and though I'd have to start as an Initiate like everyone else, I had more than earned my place. That was a nice sentiment, but I think even he understood why I couldn't stay with them, why I belonged in the Wasteland. Though Aldebourne did his best to convince me the Brotherhood would be better off without me in their ranks, somehow I didn't quite believe him.

After saying my farewells to everyone, Lloyd and I spent one last night together, pleasuring each other as best we could, savouring every moment, though the task was still difficult. He told me where he thought I should look to search for my parents and the farm, if either still existed, and for the most part he and I just talked the night away. When the sun began to rise, I double-checked my equipment and the tiger walked me to the western gates outside the Dome, outside the city. We hugged for what seemed like hours, yet not nearly for long enough. Before I left, while I still held onto his waist, Lloyd took off his holotags and placed them around my neck, telling me to never forget him. I told him I never could, smacking him for suggesting otherwise, but soon found my paws down around my ankle. I didn't have many possessions, but without a doubt the closest one to my heart was the beads and cross Chase had given me all those years ago. I gave them to Lloyd whether he wanted them or not, telling him much the same as he told me, except I may have cursed a few more times than he did.

When at last there was nothing left for us to say, Lloyd and I shared one last, loving kiss, and I was off. It took every bit of strength I had not to look back, not truly wanting to know whether or not he was still standing there, or if he'd left or if he was coming after me. Of course I wanted desperately to turn, but I forced myself to look westward and continue on. When the Dome was out of sight and I found a safe place to rest, I let myself cry for a good, long while, feeling as if my heart had been rent in two. I hit the wall and kicked some rubble and cried out angrily as I thought about my love, Lloyd Thompson, but after a while I forced myself to continue forward.

It took two full days to finally stop crying, and to start feeling strong again. I passed dozens of places to explore, but didn't feel much like going in. Instead I stayed west, then headed north toward the coordinates Lloyd had given me.

Though I had no real idea of where I was going in the vast, northern Wasteland, it did feel somewhat comforting to know I at least had a destination in mind. How I got there would be entirely up to me. What I chose to explore or chose to pass, I was in complete control of all of that, which in some ways was quite empowering. Though my time with Lloyd was one of the greatest moments in my personal history, I had to remember that I was in charge of my own destiny, and only I could decide exactly what that meant.