(my muse just went wild and I needed to write this.)
Fort Independence, aslo called "The Castle" by its inhabitants, was the supposedly impenetrable
home of the goodie two shoes called "The Minutemen
" to gather and plan out how get in the way of every self respecting Raider and Bandit group in the wastes, preaching some tripe over the airwaves about people standin up for themselves and how together they could make the Commonwealth a place worth living. What a load of crap
, every raider out there knows the truth. That the world is a place where the strong take from the weak, and fuck, kill, or eat anything that they want. It was the natural order of things, and these wannabe soldier boys and girls were trying to disrupt nature! Or at the least, that was what the new boss said, and man when that guy was tripping out on the SuperJet he cooked in his own bathroom, he really had a way with words. It was only helped by the fact he was one of the few who could read those old big books, the ones without pictures in them and really really big and confusing words. So he became their king an told them that as the strongest out in the wastes it was their right
to take and do what they wanted.
The King's words were so effective, that he began going around and gathering up all the raider groups in the Commonwealth and tried to make a play for Diamond city and take it for himself. That is if the damned Minutemen hadn't shown up when Diamond City called for help, and attacked from behind, with their leader (some vault boy asshole) actually blowing off the Raider king's hand with a lucky shot. After that the Raider king had renamed himself King Hook
, cause of the hook that he now used to replace his left hand.
While any other raider would have attacked again as soon as they were strong (Or strungout on drugs again) King Hook waited, and planned. He broke bread with the slavers, The Gunners and every last bootlicking scumbag merc who would kill their own mothers just for a single cap. Together he rallied them all with a call that if they could take the Castle from the Minutemen, then it would make the perfect pad from which to take the rest of the Commonwealth. No one, not the Brotherhood and not even the fucking Institute, could have the power to stop them.
The collection of rafts moved slowly but steadily towards the unsuspecting fortification, from the direction of the wooden docks and from the water purifier. Though the ones coming from that direction were slightly ahead of their cohorts moving to the docks.
The sun would begin rising in about another 40 minutes, but still with what moonlight was left the Raiders could just make out the newly built tower in the Castle and just beside it, with the flag of the Minutemen flying proud and high
attached to it was the radio tower with which they broadcast their messages of inspiration to all. But soon, the raiders would change that message to be nothing but the screams and agony of all the people inside. To show the wasteland what happens to heroes.
As the raiders slowly approached in their tiny rafts, a veritable fleet of over a hundred rafts, some of them could see more raiders, slavers, and Gunners moving up from land. It was about time they took this land back and reminded everyone of their place.
At the very front of the fleet was one small raft with a special job. In it was one of King Hook's favorite rocket jockeys. A boy of 18 called Nut Nut. Despite his age, Nut Nut was every bit as violent, and crazy, as his fellow raiders. His first act to get into King Hook's gang was to bring him the severed heads of his mother, father, and little sister. The one handed raider was impressed and offered him a job on the spot. Nut considered himself lucky, having joined up just in time for the big announcement that the He was given a very special job, to fire off the first shot of this battle, which was to be from amissile launcher no less.
One little hit form this, and the Minutemen's pretty little water purifier, would go boom boom.
The thought rushed through Nut Nut's head more and more as he could just see the water purifier at the side of the Castle. But just as he was leveling the launcher up to his shoulder, something caught his attention. A very faint sound reached the ears of Nut Nut, sitting at the head of the small raft fleet, he may have been the only one to hear it. The sound was so low that it almost didn't register, a faint and distant Kachunk
! What the hell could that have been? Oh well, its not like it really mattered, because now there was a new sound. Some kind of whistling sound, it got louder and louder to the point that Nut Nut realized it was coming from right above him. And just one split second after the young raider looked up, his raft exploded from a direct hit from an explosive, and several more like it hit the water near the raiders, before a flurry of red beams shot out from the Castle, like a fiery rage of an angry god coming down to smite them.
The Minutemen knew they were coming....just as King Hook had planned it. ~5 minutes earlier.~
Members of the minutemen rushed to and fro in every direction, many tripping over their own feet in the darkness as they came out of the inner rooms built into the fort, the sudden pitch black darkness making it a difficult transition for them. With their General off somewhere on one of his adventures outside of the Commonwealth, it wasn't the first time their hero from Vault 111 had gone out on some personal expedition, and left his son in the care of friends, and it certainly would not be the last. But this was the first time that the Castle, their home and symbol of power, was under attack while their leader was away. Not to mention the fact that it was such a coordinated attack by such a large force.
"Come on everyone, step lively, keep those laser muskets covered, no lights!" Commander Preston ordered, pointing at the combat ready Minutemen into their positions. Ever since 111 began sharing his pre war knowledge with the Minutemen they became a better trained and coordinated fighting force and began adapting to the necessities of their duties. Within a year the members of the rag tag militia were becoming a well oiled machine, putting Raiders and slavers on the run in most fronts. They had even taken concepts he spoke of and applied them. Who knew you could turn a Minigun into a mounted weapon or that a line of Minutemen could double their firepower and lethality by just having another line kneel down or go prone before them.
Garvey made sure that all the noncombatants were down in the old tunnels that lead to the armory, while everyone who could handle a weapon was on the move, most of them were going up to the walls. Whenever the General wasn't around, Garvey was the Commander in charge of all the operations and hed be damned if he were about to let the Castle fall to a bunch of drugged up killers.
The artillery pieces on 4 of the 5 points on the fort's pointed ends were already being rotated by an already exhausted crew, having been on alert long ago when some informants let it slip to Garvey that the attack was coming. They had no idea from when or where and were on terribly long shifts, but now that the moment had finally arrived, the Minutemen were ready to klll some raider scum. Down in the courtyard two women, one a very large and muscular woman with silvery dyed hair, and the other a short redhead with glasses bigger than her own eyes, were rushing to get the pieces of the minigun prepped and ready, but the damnable thing was just so heavy that it was taking them longer than expected.
" One of the artillery men's runners reported to Preston, then another, and another until all four guns were prepared for the assault, aiming in the direction of the boats. They couldn't risk the Raiders knowing that their surprise attack was a bust, just in case they decided to scatter and make it even harder for the arty to strike them down.
Preston held up a hand, waiting until the Raiders were well within range. Ang when they were, he brought the hand down and covered his ears as the artillery began firing their volleys. They were so loud and violent that for a moment he thought the force of the explosions would make his teeth shatter. But once it was done he was among the first to pop out of cover.
!" Officer Garvey called out to the Minutemen on the walls and soon the familiar blastwaves of Laser Musket's mixed in with the rapid staccato sound of projectile weapons of all shapes and types.
As Preston watched the men and women, all of whom he was proud to call his brothers and sisters, open fire on the army of killers and cannibals so hopped up on drugs that he doubted even half of them knew where they were...he began to let his mind wander while working the crank of his own rifle. The glowing bolt of energy within the cartridge reflected off of his own eyes and he remembered something that the colonel told him once. "Real soldiers fight for those, that cannot otherwise defend or fight for themselves.'
It had been during one of their many conversations about the world that once was, about how being a soldier had once been a very honored profession. Hard, but one that showed men what was truly within their souls. If Preston was to be honest, he didn't always understand a fair amount of what the Colonel told him about the world that was. But there were some things that were just universal.
"Keep up the fire, focus on the ones holding Missile Launchers!" He screamed out, popping off a blast from his weapon, a long crimson red beam of energy striking and then setting one of the rafts on fire. The people on it shouted in terror and Preston watched the Raiders scurry out of it like the rats they were.
It was only about five minutes into the engagement when people already began shouting for Ammo runners, so Garvey quickly shouted out for them to use short, controlled bursts and to conserve the ammo. Little did he know how useful this would be. From a distance Preston and his defenders were being watched, through an ancient and rusted pair of Binoculars by none other than King Hook, in the middle of giving himself a hit of Jet, inhaling the narcotic and riding the pleasurable high as his plan began to work. Those do gooders were all so busy watching those geese he sent out to be killed on the waterfront while he and the real army came from the land bridges on the sides of the Castle. It'd be only a matter of time until they overwhelmed just by the sheer amount of numbers he was fielding. Several of the slave masters even brought their stock with them to be used as cannon fodder.
"I'm Such a genius, I like...scare myself
sometimes..." The high lord of the raiders said, not realizing he was salivating visibly at the thought of his victory as he watched many of his raiders begin rushing forth, hanging low and attempting to remain hidden, especially those who had small mini nukes tied to them.
(More will come as I think of it, my muse wont let go!)