Hi all... I'm brand new to the DAC forums... what's up? =) Sounds corny enough... *ahem*. Well, what really got me interested in DAC were the fanfics I read on the site... being a fan of the Fallout universe and having way too much time on my hands... I thought I'd join the forums and have a go at creating my own fan fic. Apologies in advance if any are necessary, and do provide criticism so I can improve on my skills. ^_^
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The story focuses on the events after the ending of Fallout Tactics AND Fallout 2, assuming the best endings for both games (personal sacrifice and the expansion of NCR, hope that's not too much of a spoiler). I know of the lack of cohesion between the FT universe and the original 2 games, but I'm choosing to follow the universe as FT views it as the protagonist of my story is from the east coast chapter of the BoS. Hope this doesn't ruffle any feathers... okay... enough, let's get this circus on the road! =)
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S.Initiate Paul R. Cohen, BoS, stood with his arms folded across his chest as he contemplated the contents of his personal locker. He had been standing that way for quite a while, oblivious to the curious glances by passing Brothers and the odd Scribe. Cohen was a young man of twenty-one years, five feet eleven, weighed in at a 160 pounds and had a lithe build as opposed to a muscular one. He had pleasant features, tanned skin with hazel-grey, intelligent eyes and wore his dark brown hair in what had been described to him more than once as a "pre-war GI crew-cut", whatever that meant. To him, his hair worn short was less an incovenience as opposed to hair worn long, which would more often than not dangle in front of his eyes just as he looked down a gunsight. He had a small frown on his face with one uplifted eyebrow while chewing on his lower lip as was his habit whenever he was in thought.
It was Christmas eve in the wasteland, and the Brotherhood, even with their devotion to technology still recognized this pre-war season's celebration, and had generously given liberty to all personnel not on patrol or guard duty. Cohen's current dilemma was whether or not he should leave the base fully armed.
Prior to the Vault 0 campaign, this would not have been a problem. All Steel Brothers were required to be armed at all times. However with the rise of the Brotherhood in the area, and the subsequent alliance of all races, peace had broken out to the point where the Brotherhood had evolved into a quasi-peacekeeping authority rather than a purely militaristic one.
The 30-year change had wrought a somewhat more liberal view in the Brotherhood, for better or for worse, and as a result a Brotherhood soldier who discharged his weapon in anger had better give a good reason or face charges. Cohen did not expect any trouble as he was visiting the town of Colorado Springs, which had been reopened in the years following the alliance. However, rumours had also arisen about a resistance cell that operated covertly in Springs. While they would not be so insane as to openly assault a well armed squad of Brothers, a single soldier would be fair game. Cohen silently cursed his incompetent squad leader who had led his squad through a veritable lake of radiated water. Only the fact that Cohen had previously taken some Rad-X by mistake before THAT mission allowed him to pass through untouched. Otherwise, he would be with the rest of his squad in sickbay right now.
The Resistance was a band of outlaws who had chosen to defy the new Brotherhood. Bandits, riffraff and the like consisting of all manner of creatures except robots who had chosen to live a life of taking what they could rather than under the unity of Brotherhood rule. Somewhat like the raider bands of old, they conducted caravan raids, plundering of towns, and more. However, unlike the raider bands they were united, having a rank structure and operative procedures very much similar to Brotherhood tactics. This was a result of a few high-ranking Brothers (now known as Outcasts) who had chosen to defect in the vain hope that they could have a better life outside the Brotherhood.
As it was, they did indeed pose a very serious threat to the Brotherhood's aim for peace in the region. On a more immediate note, it posed a threat to Cohen's well-being as he took liberty.
Finally, Cohen reached in and took out a laser pistol. He charged it, and hooked it and the holster onto his body armour. Having done so, he took out his leather jacket (taken off a dead resistance member) and put it on, covering the pistol and his Brotherhood insignia. With a little luck, no one would even peg him as a Steel Brother and he'd be able to enjoy his liberty as he normally did... playing poker.
Cohen passed out of the main gate of the bunker, waving a casual hello at the initiate on duty and saluting the guard officer. He walked over to the mechanic's building and signed out his squad's humvee. Then with a cloud of dust and a chirp of the tires he headed out.
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"Alright, son. You want to tell me what happened?"
Cohen sat on a metal chair at a matching steel table and looked at the General who asked him that question. He had never even met a General in person before, and here was one, speaking to him easily, even conversationally.
"I don't know, sir. It all... it all happened so fast."
"Just take it easy, son, and start from the beginning."
Cohen had arrived at the outskirts of town without any difficulty. At 1900 hours, the sun had just set and he managed to hide the vehicle in a convenient gully, and had even covered it up with dead branches. He had then trekked for the 20 minutes that it took him to get to the first establishment on Main Street.
He walked down the street quickly, passing by the bars and noting that not many Brothers were in town. That wasn't surprising, considering Colorado Springs' reputation for notoriously conservative town councils that had banned hard liquor. Ordinarily, Cohen wouldn't even have considered Springs until he heard about the first class poker games that the Springs Hotel held on the sly in their basement.
Arriving at the Hotel, he saluted a senior Knight that had just arrived with a lady on his arm. The Springs Hotel was a posh place, and anyone below the rank of Knight was not welcome in the luxurious lobby, or anywhere in the hotel, for that matter. The Knight returned the salute with a casual wave in the general area of his forehead and a slight smile.
Huh... I suppose he has reason to be happy.
Cohen waited till the officer had disappeared into the hotel and hurried into a side alley. Halfway down the alley he arrived at a door and knocked on it three times with a steel-clad fist.
A slot opened up and a pair of cold eyes looked Cohen up and down. Then the slot closed and the sound of locks being opened could be heard. Cohen passed through with a nod at the doorman along with a 5 ringpull tip. He then walked down the small corridor and into a room with a baize table and 4 people already sitting round the table.
"I thought you weren't coming," remarked a tall, well-built man in the uniform of the town militia.
"I nearly wasn't, but then I figured if I didn't take your money from you, someone else would," replied Cohen with a grin.
"Fuck you, asshole," said the guard with obvious affection.
The guard was Sergeant Malarkey, a senior militia member of Springs. He and Cohen had become buddies when Cohen and his squad had pulled guard duty for Springs in the first quarter of the previous year. It was Malarkey who had brought Cohen into the game at the hotel.
Steel Brothers ordinarily would not have been welcome at the game, as not many of them played poker and even less played well. Cohen was the exception, as Malarkey had found out the hard way one night and had vouched for him. The games were honest, and one of the requirements of the management was that players would be prepared to lose large amounts of money with good grace. Cohen, being a good player, often won more than he lost, but when he did lose, he didn't cry in his soup about it.
Cohen took off his leather jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. No eyebrows were raised at his armour or his weapon. It was prudent to go about in such a manner in the wasteland. In fact, they would have been more surprised if he wasn't armed.
Several hours later Cohen got up and stretched. He had won an unusually large amount of money, cleaning out everyone at the table including Malarkey. It was bad form to count your money at the table, but he reckoned he had at least 10,000 in Brotherhood Dollars and about half as much in Ring Pulls. Being the winner, he paid for the drinks and wished the other players good night, and left.
Cohen stepped out the door into the cool night air. He was considering getting his ashes hauled... it had been awhile, and he felt the urge. However, with all that money on him, he'd be a fair target for a roll, so after a moment's thought he decided against it and started back for the Humvee.
Just beyond the town's boundaries he caught a glimpse of movement in an old abandoned barn. Cohen's senses flared as he reached for his Wattz. Rolling behind a pile of oil drums, he peeked over the top and looked at what he was facing.
Four men dressed in black leather armour and hoods came out of the barn brandishing weapons. Cohen couldn't make out the weapons in the dim light but part of the answer came in the form of a hail of bullets that bounced off the drums. Drilled by the weeks of training in the Brotherhood as well as experience, Cohen dove to the ground, poked his pistol out the side furthest away from the approaching men and fired. His shot took out the last man in the tight group of four and the raider slumped over, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand.
With his senses working overtime, Cohen observed in slow-motion that what the raider had been carrying was a grenade. A frag grenade. Consternation broke out and one of the raiders kicked the grenade back into the barn they had come from. With a scream of despair, the leader of the raiders started to turn and run while the other two, including the one who had kicked the grenade, stared at the barn in seeming fascination. The last thing Cohen saw before turning was a flash of bright light, but he didn't hear the explosion.
It's true, he thought. You don't hear the one that gets you.
---------------------------------
The General waited until he was sure that Cohen had finished. Then, with a small smile on his face, he got up from where he was sitting and knocked on the door. A Paladin walked in.
"Sir?" he asked.
"Paladin, I am hereby promoting Senior Initiate Cohen to Junior Squire. He will be transferred from his current squad to Paladin Alain's Hammer Squad as a replacement for their energy weapons expert. I am recommending that he also be given a detailed debriefing on the results of his encounter at Colorado Springs, and will foward a Citation of Commendation to Paladin Alain. Finish your debriefing of Squire Cohen, and then forward him to his new quarters with his equipment. I have pressing matters elsewhere, but I will submit my report to General Karkoff before the end of the day."
"Yes, Sir," said the Paladin, coming to attention and saluting. The General returned the salute crisply, patted a very stunned Cohen on the shoulder, and marched out of the room.
Newbie..
- Mr. Teatime
- Righteous Subjugator
- Posts: 3340
- Joined: Mon May 19, 2003 12:07 pm
First off... an apology for the very first part of the fic. I forgot that an Initiate moves up to Squire and mistakenly had Cohen promoted to Knight. That error has been rectified, and to further clarify matters, I thought I'd come up with the list of ranks and it's modern-day military equivalent.
Initiate = Private
Initiate First Class = Private First Class (PFC)
Senior Initiate = Corporal
Junior Squire = Sergeant
Squire = Gunnery Sergeant (Technical and Staff Sergeants are moved to Scribe and Yeoman status here, respectively)
Senior Squire = Master Gunner or Warrant Officer (Rank between officers and enlisted)
Junior Knight = Second Lieutenant
Knight = First Lt.
Senior Knight = Captain
Paladin = Major
Paladin Commander= Lieutenant Colonel
Paladin Lord = Colonel
General = Brigadier General
The Major General, Lieutenant General and full General ranks are moved into the Elder class and are known as Elder, Steel Elder, and Supreme Elder respectively. I've taken the liberty of adding in a couple of ranks not in the games in order to complete the military hierarchy. Okay... on to the story.
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Cohen looked up at the Paladin who smiled at him, sat down, and activated his PipBoy.
"At ease, squire. I'm Paladin Markus. I'm the Intelligence officer for the Epsilon region, as well as your debriefing officer. As per the General's orders, I'm now transferring the details of the after-action report to your PipBoy now. While that's being done, let me give you a quick summary of the AAR," said the Paladin, establishing an uplink between the two PipBoys.
"The four men that attacked you are part of the Resistance, as you may have surmised. However, intelligence gathered from their remains shows that they were under strict orders to NOT draw attention to themselves, but were in place to gather information only. The building that was destroyed in the explosion..."
Explosion? What explosion? That light was an EXPLOSION? Thank God I'm alive!
"... was a stockpile of munitions and supplies for what looks like a major offensive. When you blew it up, you certainly set back whatever plans they had for this region. Although the Brotherhood could certainly have made use of these supplies, the reviewing officers have come to the conclusion that you did all that was expected of you, and more. More to the point, however, is the fact that we did manage to capture another two more similar caches after a thorough search of the town and its surrounding areas," he said.
There was a beep as the data transfer was completed. Markus shut down his PipBoy and looked at Cohen.
"Your present duties require you to form up with Paladin Alain's squad. He's been on our backs requesting for an energy weapons specialist for some time now, and your service record shows that you are certainly more than competent for that duty. The Medical Officer has certified that you are fit for duty, and that the concussion you received last night was minor, and that you are now fully recovered. You will return to your quarters. Clean out your locker and prepare to be relocated at 0900 hours. You are then dismissed till 1200 hours, when you will meet Paladin Alain along with your new squad members at the briefing room. Sorry to ruin your Christmas, but Hammer Squad is one of Intelligence Section's best units, and they'll certainly want to follow up on what happened at Springs. Any questions?"
"Sir, no, sir!" replied Cohen, standing up and coming to attention.
"Very well, Squire," replied Paladin Markus, coming to attention himself. "You are dismissed."
Cohen saluted crisply, and marched out the door.
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Briefing Room
Brotherhood Bunker Epsilon
East Coast Region, 4th Western Quadrant
1200 Hours 25 December, 2228
"Ten-HUT!"
Chairs clattered and armour rustled as the seven men in the room came to attention and saluted. Paladin Alain walked in and returned the salute. "At ease, gentlemen," he ordered.
Paladin Alain DuMarc was a tall, thin man of six feet. He had a slightly regal air about him, with finely defined features and an aristocratic pointed nose lending him a refined and polished look. Blue eyes and blond hair made him look younger than his thirty three years, but scars on his face gave testimony to the fact that he was no stranger to the hard life in the Brotherhood. He was in Power Armor with his helmet removed to look directly at his men. His eyes showed warmth and a good humor, but to Cohen's professional judgement, he knew that his new Commanding Officer could be a mean sonofabitch if he wanted to be.
Alain looked around the briefing room and waved for the Brothers to sit down. He bent over and loaded a holodisc with data into the briefing table, and it came to life with beeps and whirrs. Looking around, he spotted Cohen and motioned for him to stand up.
"As you may have noticed, brothers, we have a new addition to our squad," he said with a smile. His words had a slight, foreign accent to them that Cohen remembered as being English from old holomovies he had seen.
"Brothers, this is Squire Cohen, whose actions at Colorado Springs have brought us our next assignment. For those of you who have seen the reports, excellent. For those of you who have not, please do so, as I really do believe that the less questions I have to answer, the less time this briefing will take and hence the more time you will have later to whisper obscenities about me behind my back," continued Alain.
A chorus of dutiful laughter came in response to his last comment.
"I hear laughter, but no denials. Alright Brothers, before we proceed any further I think a round of introductions is in order. As I just mentioned, this is Squire Cohen... Paul Cohen. He's our new energy weapons specialist that command has assigned, proving, I suppose, that all good things come to him who wait."
Initiate = Private
Initiate First Class = Private First Class (PFC)
Senior Initiate = Corporal
Junior Squire = Sergeant
Squire = Gunnery Sergeant (Technical and Staff Sergeants are moved to Scribe and Yeoman status here, respectively)
Senior Squire = Master Gunner or Warrant Officer (Rank between officers and enlisted)
Junior Knight = Second Lieutenant
Knight = First Lt.
Senior Knight = Captain
Paladin = Major
Paladin Commander= Lieutenant Colonel
Paladin Lord = Colonel
General = Brigadier General
The Major General, Lieutenant General and full General ranks are moved into the Elder class and are known as Elder, Steel Elder, and Supreme Elder respectively. I've taken the liberty of adding in a couple of ranks not in the games in order to complete the military hierarchy. Okay... on to the story.
========================
Cohen looked up at the Paladin who smiled at him, sat down, and activated his PipBoy.
"At ease, squire. I'm Paladin Markus. I'm the Intelligence officer for the Epsilon region, as well as your debriefing officer. As per the General's orders, I'm now transferring the details of the after-action report to your PipBoy now. While that's being done, let me give you a quick summary of the AAR," said the Paladin, establishing an uplink between the two PipBoys.
"The four men that attacked you are part of the Resistance, as you may have surmised. However, intelligence gathered from their remains shows that they were under strict orders to NOT draw attention to themselves, but were in place to gather information only. The building that was destroyed in the explosion..."
Explosion? What explosion? That light was an EXPLOSION? Thank God I'm alive!
"... was a stockpile of munitions and supplies for what looks like a major offensive. When you blew it up, you certainly set back whatever plans they had for this region. Although the Brotherhood could certainly have made use of these supplies, the reviewing officers have come to the conclusion that you did all that was expected of you, and more. More to the point, however, is the fact that we did manage to capture another two more similar caches after a thorough search of the town and its surrounding areas," he said.
There was a beep as the data transfer was completed. Markus shut down his PipBoy and looked at Cohen.
"Your present duties require you to form up with Paladin Alain's squad. He's been on our backs requesting for an energy weapons specialist for some time now, and your service record shows that you are certainly more than competent for that duty. The Medical Officer has certified that you are fit for duty, and that the concussion you received last night was minor, and that you are now fully recovered. You will return to your quarters. Clean out your locker and prepare to be relocated at 0900 hours. You are then dismissed till 1200 hours, when you will meet Paladin Alain along with your new squad members at the briefing room. Sorry to ruin your Christmas, but Hammer Squad is one of Intelligence Section's best units, and they'll certainly want to follow up on what happened at Springs. Any questions?"
"Sir, no, sir!" replied Cohen, standing up and coming to attention.
"Very well, Squire," replied Paladin Markus, coming to attention himself. "You are dismissed."
Cohen saluted crisply, and marched out the door.
-----------------------
Briefing Room
Brotherhood Bunker Epsilon
East Coast Region, 4th Western Quadrant
1200 Hours 25 December, 2228
"Ten-HUT!"
Chairs clattered and armour rustled as the seven men in the room came to attention and saluted. Paladin Alain walked in and returned the salute. "At ease, gentlemen," he ordered.
Paladin Alain DuMarc was a tall, thin man of six feet. He had a slightly regal air about him, with finely defined features and an aristocratic pointed nose lending him a refined and polished look. Blue eyes and blond hair made him look younger than his thirty three years, but scars on his face gave testimony to the fact that he was no stranger to the hard life in the Brotherhood. He was in Power Armor with his helmet removed to look directly at his men. His eyes showed warmth and a good humor, but to Cohen's professional judgement, he knew that his new Commanding Officer could be a mean sonofabitch if he wanted to be.
Alain looked around the briefing room and waved for the Brothers to sit down. He bent over and loaded a holodisc with data into the briefing table, and it came to life with beeps and whirrs. Looking around, he spotted Cohen and motioned for him to stand up.
"As you may have noticed, brothers, we have a new addition to our squad," he said with a smile. His words had a slight, foreign accent to them that Cohen remembered as being English from old holomovies he had seen.
"Brothers, this is Squire Cohen, whose actions at Colorado Springs have brought us our next assignment. For those of you who have seen the reports, excellent. For those of you who have not, please do so, as I really do believe that the less questions I have to answer, the less time this briefing will take and hence the more time you will have later to whisper obscenities about me behind my back," continued Alain.
A chorus of dutiful laughter came in response to his last comment.
"I hear laughter, but no denials. Alright Brothers, before we proceed any further I think a round of introductions is in order. As I just mentioned, this is Squire Cohen... Paul Cohen. He's our new energy weapons specialist that command has assigned, proving, I suppose, that all good things come to him who wait."
- Mr. Teatime
- Righteous Subjugator
- Posts: 3340
- Joined: Mon May 19, 2003 12:07 pm
Hey guys... I apologize for not making an update sooner, but I was relocating to Melbourne and the move took up quite a bit of my time, plus, summer classes at uni has started and I've got a fair bit of work to do. Hopefully this next part won't bore anyone, as I didn't really have the time to do a good job. Cheers! =)
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Introductions were quickly made around the table while Alain prepared his notes. Cohen sized up his new squadmates and on a whole, was very impressed with the lot. It was obvious that they had seen a lot of action and were good people to have behind your back.
Marcus and Markus were twins, with brown hair and laughing grey eyes. Of medium height and build, with unassuming features, they were so alike that no one could really be sure who was Marc and who was Mark, a fact that they used with great effectiveness. Even Cohen had heard the tales of despairing Drill Instruction Squires who had passed them through basic training faster than was the norm just to be rid of them. However, in their initiation mission they had worked together with great effectiveness, with an almost eerie sense of cooperation, as if each could read the other’s mind. They had a knack of getting whatever they needed from people, be that individual friendly or hostile, and as thus were well suited to intelligence work. There was also a rather suspicious tendency for things to disappear wherever they were, but it seemed like Alain knew how to keep them in line, for there had been no complaints from Intel Unit as there were from previous billets they had served in.
Carla was a stunning redhead, with the figure to go with the face. Green eyes over a finely chiseled nose with lips that pouted all combined to create a girl that very, very few men would kick out of bed. The very first thought that ran through Cohen’s mind when she introduced herself was how he could get her into bed, and how soon. However, when he looked into her eyes he had immediate second thoughts and cut off the flirtatious remark he was about to make. Her eyes were cold, and calculating, like those of a wild deathclaw deciding whether or not he was hungry. Eyes that belonged over the sights of a rifle a mile away. She was the sharpshooter of the squad, and Cohen seriously wondered if she castrated men who offended her with a bullet. However, her eyes did warm slightly when she realized that Cohen had recognized the danger and she gave him an approving smile. Cohen was surprised to realize he was very relieved.
Tony, also known as “Brutal� for obvious reasons, was the squad’s heavy gunner. When Cohen first saw him he had taken him to be a rather small Super Mutant. Tall and black, with a chest the size of two beer barrels and arms that were as thick as Cohen’s thighs, he gave a brilliant smile full of white teeth as he crushed Cohen’s with his handshake. Fortunately for Cohen, he knew his strength and stopped short of breaking every bone in his hand. Noticing Cohen’s wince of pain, Marcus (or was it Markus?) laughed and said, “Man, don’t you be scared of ole Tank here. He looks like he was dipped in a vat and raised by deathclaws but he’s the nicest dude you could meet. Of course, not everyone we have him talk to thinks so, hah! I still remember…�
Markus (or was it Marcus?) cut his sibling off, “Hey bro, tell the tall tales later… Big Al’s waiting.�
True enough, Alain was drumming his fingers, a fact that Cohen learned later indicated impatience.
The next squad member was Matthew. Cohen hadn’t even realized he was there, somewhat to his chagrin. But upon introductions he realized that Matthew was such an unassuming man that almost everyone had to look closely to realize he was there. As such, he was the prime choice for a scout. Matthew wasn’t very tall, only five feet six inches in his socks, and had dusty blonde hair with a tanned face. Quiet as hell, and never saying a word more than he had to, Matthew could easily slip into a crowd unnoticed or crawl up to a raider camp and steal their booze.
The final squad member was a pretty, wholesome looking girl named Carolyn. A brunette with dark brown eyes, she was of average height, and had a cheerful, outgoing demeanor that Cohen immediately liked. She was very chatty and asked him a couple of questions before Alain meaningfully cleared his throat and she blushed and ended it with a quick, “Really glad to meet you.�
Cohen smiled and said, “Me, too, Carolyn.� He added without meaning to, “You have a very pretty name� and flushed when he realized what he said.
“Hah!� laughed Tony with a booming voice. “Too bad we just call her ‘Doc’ around here, and you’ll be doing that too, soon enough! Heh heh heh.�
“Okay, enough with that,� interjected Alain, cutting off a stammering Cohen. “It’s time for the mission briefing.�
The squad instantly went still.
-------------------------------------------------------
Introductions were quickly made around the table while Alain prepared his notes. Cohen sized up his new squadmates and on a whole, was very impressed with the lot. It was obvious that they had seen a lot of action and were good people to have behind your back.
Marcus and Markus were twins, with brown hair and laughing grey eyes. Of medium height and build, with unassuming features, they were so alike that no one could really be sure who was Marc and who was Mark, a fact that they used with great effectiveness. Even Cohen had heard the tales of despairing Drill Instruction Squires who had passed them through basic training faster than was the norm just to be rid of them. However, in their initiation mission they had worked together with great effectiveness, with an almost eerie sense of cooperation, as if each could read the other’s mind. They had a knack of getting whatever they needed from people, be that individual friendly or hostile, and as thus were well suited to intelligence work. There was also a rather suspicious tendency for things to disappear wherever they were, but it seemed like Alain knew how to keep them in line, for there had been no complaints from Intel Unit as there were from previous billets they had served in.
Carla was a stunning redhead, with the figure to go with the face. Green eyes over a finely chiseled nose with lips that pouted all combined to create a girl that very, very few men would kick out of bed. The very first thought that ran through Cohen’s mind when she introduced herself was how he could get her into bed, and how soon. However, when he looked into her eyes he had immediate second thoughts and cut off the flirtatious remark he was about to make. Her eyes were cold, and calculating, like those of a wild deathclaw deciding whether or not he was hungry. Eyes that belonged over the sights of a rifle a mile away. She was the sharpshooter of the squad, and Cohen seriously wondered if she castrated men who offended her with a bullet. However, her eyes did warm slightly when she realized that Cohen had recognized the danger and she gave him an approving smile. Cohen was surprised to realize he was very relieved.
Tony, also known as “Brutal� for obvious reasons, was the squad’s heavy gunner. When Cohen first saw him he had taken him to be a rather small Super Mutant. Tall and black, with a chest the size of two beer barrels and arms that were as thick as Cohen’s thighs, he gave a brilliant smile full of white teeth as he crushed Cohen’s with his handshake. Fortunately for Cohen, he knew his strength and stopped short of breaking every bone in his hand. Noticing Cohen’s wince of pain, Marcus (or was it Markus?) laughed and said, “Man, don’t you be scared of ole Tank here. He looks like he was dipped in a vat and raised by deathclaws but he’s the nicest dude you could meet. Of course, not everyone we have him talk to thinks so, hah! I still remember…�
Markus (or was it Marcus?) cut his sibling off, “Hey bro, tell the tall tales later… Big Al’s waiting.�
True enough, Alain was drumming his fingers, a fact that Cohen learned later indicated impatience.
The next squad member was Matthew. Cohen hadn’t even realized he was there, somewhat to his chagrin. But upon introductions he realized that Matthew was such an unassuming man that almost everyone had to look closely to realize he was there. As such, he was the prime choice for a scout. Matthew wasn’t very tall, only five feet six inches in his socks, and had dusty blonde hair with a tanned face. Quiet as hell, and never saying a word more than he had to, Matthew could easily slip into a crowd unnoticed or crawl up to a raider camp and steal their booze.
The final squad member was a pretty, wholesome looking girl named Carolyn. A brunette with dark brown eyes, she was of average height, and had a cheerful, outgoing demeanor that Cohen immediately liked. She was very chatty and asked him a couple of questions before Alain meaningfully cleared his throat and she blushed and ended it with a quick, “Really glad to meet you.�
Cohen smiled and said, “Me, too, Carolyn.� He added without meaning to, “You have a very pretty name� and flushed when he realized what he said.
“Hah!� laughed Tony with a booming voice. “Too bad we just call her ‘Doc’ around here, and you’ll be doing that too, soon enough! Heh heh heh.�
“Okay, enough with that,� interjected Alain, cutting off a stammering Cohen. “It’s time for the mission briefing.�
The squad instantly went still.