Nuclear Quest [Fallout x Arkn...

By Suzuka69

1K 57 13

A tale of two worlds diverging with one another, their universes severely derailed from their respective cano... More

Opening notes
Rangers, outlaws and alcohol
Law abiding citizens

Collecting bounties

356 16 2
By Suzuka69

New California Republic
New Arroyo, Year 2288

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The meeting point was located a long ways outside New Arroyo, beside the long abandoned Red Rocket gas station. The mid July sun was high up in the horizon, casting long lines of shadows on the lone figure on the ground. The person notices a pack of wild Cazadores in the distance, making loud buzzing noises as they hovered atop a brahmin corpse.

You would not be able to tell that the person leaning against the wall of the abandoned building was a woman at first glance, due to the long, dab olive green duster that covered her feminine curves. The brim of her cowboy hat covered her face as she looked at the ground.

The wind howled, kicking up dust and tumbleweeds towards the opposite direction of the bustling city. There were a few caravaners coming from the east, probably from the agricultural farming town of Modoc or Klammath. The gunslinger caught sight of a lone NCR patrol squad lingering just outside New Arroyo's gate.

Ol' Freddie "The Highwayman" and his gang of goons should've been here half an hour ago to collect protection money. The gunslinger sighed inwardly and took the gold watch out of her pocket; the screen showed thirty minutes past 12. She took a long wind of her cigar, before letting the wind carry the smoke away.

After a few minutes of dead silence, beside the constant buzzing of an insect from time to time, the gunslinger finally heard the soft jingle jangle of spurs hitting the sand. A few moments of waiting and she catches sight of the gang; raiders calling themselves highwaymen and masquerading as western outlaws.

'Four.' counted the gunslinger. 'Just like they said.'

"This dang heat is makin' me go crazy!" Freddie shouted while scratching his neck. He shoved his hat into his head and lit up a cigar as soon as they came a few feet from her.

The man was of average build, sporting fading blue trousers and a long sleeve with used up leather vest. He had a permanent crooked nose, which made him an easy face to remember.

"You're late." the gunslinger snapped. She taps the cigar and lets the ashes fall and mix within the sand.

"What, it's feckin' hot out there. Had to stop by and grab a drink, ain't that right boys?" Freddie remarked, a crooked smile forming on his mouth. The others jeered as a response.

"Well then, got our money?"

The woman lifted up her head, before tossing a used vault-tec lunchbox at the gang leaders' feet. A flash of surprise flickered in his face the moment their eyes met. He snickered and glanced at his fellow raiders, gesturing towards the person in front of them. They grinned as they eyed her up and down, with one man even whistling.

She was used to that kind of provocative reaction. Many people find the unusual color of her eyes striking. Some men were that easy to read, and these guys were no different. Just a bunch of scumbags who would immediately think of raping a woman as they land their eyes on her.

Total pieces of shit.

The smile on Freddie's face wavered as he squats on the ground, before being replaced with a look of bewilderment. He immediately stood up as he grabbed the contents of the lunchbox, his face contorting into a snarl.

"W-What the fuck is this!? Why's all our faces printed on these papers!?" spit flew out of his mouth as he shouted, his brows furrowing as he demanded an answer.

Instead of receiving the promised protection money, the gunslinger filled the lunchbox of their wanted poster. It was time to put a stop on their criminal behavior, and she was here to enforce the law.

The gunslinger drops the cigar and swipes at her long duster, revealing a big iron strapped on her hip. The four raiders were so taken aback by the sudden twist of events that they forgot to aim their weapons at her. What they also failed to notice was the small, distinct golden badge pinned on the right side of her chest.

"The bounty states to bring y'all back to Arroyo, dead or alive-"

And faster than a radscorpions' stinger, she draws the revolver out from her leather holster and racks the hammer with her thumb.

//Clack//

"-You're done fucked up, ol' Freddie."

//Crack!/ Crack!/ Crack!//

Three continuous shots echoed in the air as they came from the gunslinger, dropping three of the raiders immediately. She managed to hit all their vital spots, with the huge 44-45 caliber bullet easily busting through soft flesh. All of them lay still, except for the leader of the gang.

"F-Fucking killed them... Y-You're a damn murderer!" Freddie's mouth was wide open when he draws a stubby nosed 32. revolver.

//BANG!//

The last thing Freddie saw before nothingness as his brain processed his death was the smoke from the gunslinger's pistol, with the bullet going through his mouth and into his nape. He gasped and coughed, not realizing the fatality of his injury as he choked on his own blood.

His mind registers a pair of beautiful heterochromia eyes staring back at him, before his body fell limply into the sand.

"What a waste of mass and oxygen. Good on you, gravedigger." The gunslinger muttered and pats her gun as she watched their blood seep into the sand.

...

..

.

///

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"What the hell was- Holy fuck!"

A man's voice broke the eerie silence as it came from the doorway of the red rocket gas station. He had his weapon raised, which was a lever action carbine, as he scanned for any possible threats. Seeing that there was none, he grabs a military backpack near the doorway and moved forward.

The distraught figure stumbled towards the unfazed female gunslinger, who was busy idling about the dead corpses. A mixed look of disgust and shock was painted as clear as day on his face. Four bodies of possibly the would be raiders they were after lay dead on the sand. They all died with a single bullet inside of them.

"Jesus Christ, Hodgins, you could'a woke me up before gunning them down." The man said in mild annoyance as he ruffles a hand through his thick dark hair.

"Pass me a burlap sack, will you Lasso?" the woman removed her hat and turned to face the man. She was reloading the Colt walker in her hands.

"And I already told you before not to call me that."

The man called Lasso grunted and rummaged through his pack, taking out two of the burlap sacks she mentioned.

"Whatever you say, Granger." Lasso added with a hint of sarcasm as he shoved the sack at her.

"Oh shut it. The brass said it's better than using our real names." The woman, which we'll now refer to as Granger for the time being, responded as she took the machete from her own pack.

"You positive these are the guys the caravaners reported?"

The woman stared at him for a second as if silently asking if he was a retard, before answering with a short 'yes'.

Lasso watched in mild disgust as his partner proceeded to chop the first head off, blood spurting out in inconsistent intervals from the corpses' exposed neck. Granger moves on to the next one and puts both heads into the sack.

It was just as if it was a normal day for her.

"Get on with it, hotshot. We ain't got all day here." She sighed as beads of sweat formed on her forehead, reminding them both how hot can it be out here in parts of New Arroyo. She nods at the machete in Lasso's hands and points at the remaining two.

"Part of the job, Zacusti." Granger remarked with a neutral expression, before putting on the cowboy hat back on her head. She takes a bottle of alcohol and drowsed her hands into its contents, hoping to remove the blood staining her hands.
Figuratively speaking.

Lasso frowned, before going back on her previous words. Zacusti is his surname, as hers is Hodgins. The brass was right to some extent, using their nicknames was much comforting than revealing their true names to anyone who might be eavesdropping.

Luckily for them the potential eavesdroppers, on this particular scenario, were already gunned down and are partaking in the infamous 'gravity-held-me-down' challenge of the wasteland.

Lasso just sighs inwardly as he wordlessly chops Freddie's head off alongside his other gang member, before tossing them both in his own sack. He throws the sack in his shoulders as they set out towards the city of New Arroyo, with Granger leading the way.

It was going to be a long bounty hunting season for the two of them.

To be continued.


















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Date published: 13th of July, 2023
Word count: 1600

(A/N: Hallo evuri nyan~
Huh!?
howaryu? Fine sankyu.
Ohmaygahhh)

(With that short intro outta the way, this story takes place on an alternate universe of fallout:NV. And as for the tags of the story, yes, it's true. I made this since I've played F:NV countless times and was like 'RAAAAAAGHHH NCR SUPREMACY' like what if they get to actually chase something instead of ghosts yeah? ┬⁠─⁠┬⁠ノ⁠(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ノ⁠)

Anyway stay tuned for more!


A visual of the gun dear Granger is using, if any of you is wondering.
Gravedigger is a very befitting name for a gun this big. ;)

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