Game Skyrim Forum

The Big Apple
Only the Core Remains

-By The Mercenary

CHAPTER 0P R O L O U G E

"Mammoth, open the gates. My guests have arrived?."

They used to call the city of New York the "Big Apple." I don't know what this city was like then, but today I guess only the core remains. What we are told was once the most industrialized city in the world now lies in ruin. All across Manhattan, towers that supposedly once scraqed the sky now litter the street as mounds of rubble. These streets are now just cracked slabs of pavement strewn with overturned cars. These cars are now no more than twisted metal frames. In my honest opinion, no one truly survived the war that consumed humanity. Those who lived through the apocalypse awoke to see everything gone, and generations to come have lived and died in a world where the sole purpose is living to see another day.

The explosions killed us all in one way or another. We are all in Hell. Even as I stand hare, behind makeshift barricades with makeshift locks closing off a makeshift shelter deep within New York City's metro station, war rages above us. I like to sometimes imagine a day when this wasteland is civilized once more.

?No, scratch that.

I like to sometimes imagine a day when you can walk outside to take a piss without some raider blowing your head into a chunky paste with a sawed off shotgun, defiling your corpse, and looting you of anything in your blood-soaked pockets. But really, I've come to terms with the fact that this is an extremely unlikely dream. As long as people wage war over petty differences, society will never return. At this point it's just funny, in a dark, twisted way, that we haven't realized that war can only bring pain. How in the world have the follies of our ancestors failed to show us that? well, war... never changes.

"Mammoth! I said my guests have arrived!" Mister Nikos's voice takes on a very serious tone.

Aw dammit! I drifted off again. I have a habit of going into long self-monologues and forgetting what I'm supposed to be doing. Need to work on that.

"Yes sir!" I replied, looking back at Mister Nikos. I'm very careful to only give a quick glance to him, as he dislikes it when we stare at him for too long. Some crap about him being our superior or something.

Mister Nikos, besides looking slightly annoyed, is looking very tidy today. Well, as tidy as you can get out in the wastes. Even though he wears the same dirty pre-war business suit and fedora daily, I think that this morning he took a couple extra steps to look sophisticated for the mercenaries he hired. I don't know, the suit just seems a bit less dusty than usual, and he's wearing a tie. That really stands out in my mind, since Mister Nikos almost never wears that tie. He says that it's just too much of a hassle to put it on correctly.

Nikos arranged for a special meeting today, and he had my friends and I spend the past week setting up a little base down in the subway. Besides a run in with some raiders everything went smoothly, and we did a decent job if you ask me; all the basics are here. We have beds, lockers for storage, an old refrigerator that we got running to keep the meat Hornet's been hunting cold, and even some weapons (Most of which looted from gnarled bodies after the previously mentioned raider encounter.). Mister Nikos has always been very secretive abut his meetings. Most of the time Kraken, Hornet and I never know what the hell he's actually planning until he's ready to set those plans into action. He's been quiet recently. Serious, too. When I asked him what he was up to the other night, he started swearing and punched me in the face, so I'm kind of curious as to what he's been scheming.

After fiddling around with the lock, I swing open the gates for four shadowy figures stepping through the subway.

Well?

I guess it's about time to find out.


TO BE CONTINUED

I like it. In my opinion it's pretty good, but somehow this made me remember something weird... really weird.

I like it.

The Subtitle is what drew me in, a good little chuckle to myself.
I can't wait for this to continue.

Lol, The Core of an apple.

Oh dear lord... I LOVE YOU! Reading this really made my day, cause for once, I can't spot any problems. It's even a good length!

Awesome job dude! If I could use emoticons right now, I'd totally give you a thumbs up.

CHAPTER 2

H I S T O R Y

“Welcome, my friends. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Mister Nikos stood up from his desk and began walking towards the gate to greet the figures in the shadows. It’s always weird to hear him on the rare occasions that he acts friendly, because he looks much more like the kind of person who would be firing at you with a sniper rifle from a rooftop than conversing with you. No matter how many fedoras and suits that man wears, Mister Nikos could never really look like an approachable man. His terribly sunburned skin, his thick mustache, his shifty eyes... no matter how hard he tries, he can never hide the fact that he’s a raider at heart. Not even with a tie. As the figures drew closer, Mister Nikos turned his head in my direction and scowled at me, as if to express disgust that I was still standing at the gates.

“What the hell are you doing still standing around?” Mister Nikos grumbled at me in an irritated tone. “Get in the back with the others, you inbred oaf!”

Ah yes, there’s the Mister Nikos I know. The man beneath the fancy clothes. I nodded, showing acknowledgement to his request, and walked off after a quick “Yes Sir!”

As I opened the door to the back room Mister Nikos began to say something to his guests, but I was already too far away to make out what he was saying. As curious as I was, I decided to keep walking. I didn’t want to risk getting him angry with me. Besides, I would be finding out what’s been going on in due time. Hornet and Kraken were waiting in the back. Hornet, leaning against an old subway ticket booth, looked up at me from her bottle of Nuka-Cola as I entered the room.

“Didja get a good look at any of ‘im?” Hornet inquired with that all too common look of curiosity in her eyes.

“Nah… he sent me back here before they showed up,” I replied. “I still can’t figure out what he’s up to this time around.”

Hornet looked at the ground and ran her fingers through her dirty red hair, pondering. After a few seconds she looked back up at me. “He said somthin’ about raiders down in Central Park the other day. He was talking ‘bout how they were stashing away a lotta good weapons down at a camp in that crater. Maybe he’s fixin’ to get his hands on the loot down there.”

I shook my head. “Not likely. If it was just some raiders keeping weapons in Central Park, he would have sent us. He only hires mercs for the big stuff.”

“How many are there?” questioned Hornet, bringing the soda bottle to her mouth for another sip.

“Four,” I answered.

Hornet quickly pulled the bottle away from her mouth in surprise and choked a bit on her drink. After wiping her lips with the side of her arm, she fixed her eyes, widened with worry, on mine. “I’ll be dammed!” she exclaimed. “What could Nikos be up to that could possibly need four…”

“Voice down,” Kraken, who was sitting against the wall listening to a dented radio, interrupted. “Mister Nikos mad if hears. Listen. Radio.”

Hornet and I grew quiet and turned our attention to the radio. Some guys at the old Time Warner Center building in Columbus Circle run a radio show out of the remains of the pre-war news studio, NNC.

“Good afternoon people of New York!” exclaimed the voice on the radio. “This is Doc Turner, host of NNC news. Now, time for a special report.

The battle between the boys in blue, our very own New York City Police Guild, and those nasty ne’er-do-wells of the Viper Association rages on. Police Chief Patrick O’Malley has released a statement that the Police Guild is making their best effort to keep the Vipers within Times Square. Meanwhile, the Association’s leader, Magnum Falgo, still demands that the raider boss known as Maniac Grynders be released from Ryker’s Island before his scheduled execution at the end of the month, or the Viper Association will retaliate by launching a full scale raider attack on Empire State City. More details as they are revealed.

And now, some music...”

With that the report ended and a recording of the song “Mister Sandman” began to play. Hornet shook her head in disapproval over the senseless conflict in Midtown Manhattan. Kraken continued to stare at the radio, a blank look on his face. I remembered how Hornet said last week that she was worried that his mind was rotting away, just like his flesh. You see, Kraken was a ghoul, and one on the edge of going crazy at that. Too much exposure to the radiation out here will either turn you into some sort of a rotting, decrepit, ragged mutant, or kill you. I would honestly prefer the second. Even in a place like NYC where everyone is out to kill everyone, Ghouls receive a notably horrible amount of prejudice. Kraken gets a lot of crap from Mister Nikos, who goes about calling him things like “Zombie” on a daily basis.

---

Even though Nikos treats him like trash, Kraken's extremely loyal. All three of us are. Even though I may sound like I hate the guy, It's my duty to serve him and to dedicate my life to aiding him. Thinking about Kraken made me remember. I remembered my days as a raider. I remembered how I spend my days Killing and maiming, looting and shooting, decapitating and desecrating, all that kind of stuff. My buddies and I used to hang around Lower Manhattan, getting our kicks from sniping traders and ambushing weary travelers. With chainsaws. I remembered how my brother taught me how to shoot a gun, cut meat from a mole rat, and how I killed my first victim at the age of fifteen. I believe he was a hunter who had gotten separated from his group, and I got him from behind with a 10mm pistol. I remember that fateful day when, after slaughtering a wounded scavenger with his leg caught in one of our beartraps, we were partying in our hideout down on Broadway Street. Then Mister Nikos arrived.

He showed up with that same damn suit and hat on, but with a vest thrown over it. He had a hunting rifle in his hand and his face was covered in blood. We all turned to him, and he looked up at us and, in one of the calmest voices I’ve ever heard from a man who just walked in on a party off raiders I might add, announced, “I’m looking for someone to do work for me.”

My brother stood up from his seat at the bar. “Are you ****ing kidding me? Is this guy for real!? Do you even know who we are!?” he exclaimed, and began to reach for his shotgun.

And then his head exploded.

The shot happened so quickly that I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t have time to cry or scream in anger, or reach for my assault rifle, because a bullet immediately tore through my arm afterwards and I fell to the ground in pain. Then, completely helpless, I watched as Mister Nikos stood still in the doorway and executed every single person that I had spent the past twenty-three years growing up and killing alongside. I saw the cold look in his eyes. He didn’t even wince.

And after the walls and floors were thoroughly covered with the brain juices of my comrades he realized that I was still alive. He put down his rifle, walked over to me, kneeled down and looked me straight in the face.

“As I said, I’m looking for someone to do work for me.”

...And I’ve been doing work for him ever since.

---

“Mammoth!” Hornet yelled. I snapped back to reality. “Mister Nikos is calling! We need to go!”

Dammit, more drifiting off. I really do need to work on that. I got the nickname "Mammoth" becacuse I’m “strong, but dumb.” Now, I've never been crazy enough to retaliate and request a better nickname, but I wouldn’t exactly say that I’m dumb. It's just that sometimes my mind drifts off to other things, and I lose track of the thing I was supposed to be doing. I have a problem remembering things, sure, and I’m sometimes oblivious to my surroundings. It was even a problem when I was a raider, But I wouldn’t say that I’m stupid… I’m just not attentive.

The three of us walked out of the back room to meet Mister Nikos’s new lackeys. As I exited that I room I was more than ready to take orders from Mister Nikos. I was more than ready to carry out whatever crazy scheme the man had prepared.

After all, wasn’t that all I lived for now?

Very impressive writing, really wants to make me keep reading. Looking forward to the next chapter

Very impressive story. You are definitely a great writer, keep up the good work. :goodjob:

Excellent. More, please.

I am bumping this because I enjoyed reading it.

bravo good man! excellent stories

I really enjoyed it. Writing's superb and the setting is convincing.

Waiting for chapter 3 Good read!

Guess I'll just be adding more praise to the pile.

Great job, keep up the good work. :thumbsup:

Sorry for the wait. I hope to have the next chapter up tonight or tomorrow. Expect to find out Nikos's plan, meet the mercs, learn some more about the general condition of NYC, and hear Mammoth talk to himself some more.

-The Mercenary

Good cant wait

Awesome writing, and *gasp* no grammar mistakes! Good story and setting, 5/5.

Chapter 2
P L A N S


Mister Nikos was sitting in his chair at the end of the pool table he used as a desk, and the mercenaries he had hired were standing around him. After getting my first look at Mister Nikos's mercs, it became clear just how big this mission was. These guys were the real deal- they were all wearing pre-war military grade combat armor and armed to the teeth with weapons. Either we had all missed one hell of a sale on old army gear, or Nikos had gone out of his way to find the best of the best. As we entered the room, Mister Nikos looked over and motioned with his arm for us to come to the table.

"There are a few more people I'd like to introduce to you," he said to the mercenaries, continuing to fake a friendly tone. "These are my assistants. They will be aiding you during the mission.'

One of the mercenaries, who was leaning against the gate and inspecting his combat shotgun, looked up at us.

"Youse got some tuff' looking guys working for ya," he grumbled, stroking his long brown beard.

It was somewhat nice to get a compliment the merc, considering how rarely Mister Nikos acknowledges anything we do. The man looked like a real bruiser, with a strong jaw and broad shoulders that matched his muscular build. Mister Nikos ignored the man's comment and went on.

"Now that we are all properly acquainted," Mister Nikos began, apparently forgetting that he hadn't actually introduced us to the mercenaries yet. "It's time for me to explain what I desire from you."

All right, I thought to mysef, here it comes. It seemed like Mister Nikos had told the mercs about as much about this job as he did to us, since they all stopped preparing their weapons and began listening closely to him.

"A couple of weeks ago I salvaged an old radio and began picking up signals that I believe were originally only intended for certain ears."

I immediately knew what Mister Nikos was talking about. It was incorrect to say that he salvaged that radio, though, considering that I was the one who found it, and it wasn't even like it was salvaged. We found it in a raider camp we had cleared out while hunting and Hornet asked if we could bring it back to our base so we could listen to NNC's broadcasts. Mister Nikos agreed, but he took it into his private room when it started picking up private broadcast signals and we had to find another one. He hadn't mentioned anything about the radio since we had found it though, so I surprised to hear it come up.

"The most intriguing of those signals were between two squads form the Aforcer Enforcer Force. The messages were vague at first, but it quickly became obvious what was going on. The AEF? has discovered a vault beneath the ruins of the United Nations building."

Hornet quickly looked over to me, a startled look in her eyes. We all knew what was coming next.

"The vault is still closed," Mister Nikos continued. "But the Enforcers are working towards getting it opened. It has been a good... what, six years since they found a vault out in New York City? They say that there is fully preserved pre-war technology within. Very valuable."

Mister Nikos then lit a cigarette and placed it in his mouth for what I could only guess was dramatic effect.

"I want it."

One of the mercenaries stood up from the stool she was sitting on and began shouting at Mister Nikos. "Are you nuts?" she exclaimed. Compared to the other mercs she seemed rather frail, but the grenades dangling from her belt evened out her weak appearance. Straightening her glasses, she continued her rambling. "You want us to head down to the east side of middle Manhattan? Through Times Square? You want us to **** with the Enforcers?"

"Roll's gotta point!" the bearded mercenary grunted in agreement. "This sounds like a bitta'va suicide mission to me, even with so many peoples wit' us!"

"Hold on," a third interrupted. "You when we came in, you said we would be getting rewarded quite royally for our mission. How do you plan on? compensating for this dangerous endeavor?" He looked over at Mister Nikos, who grinned at the man's question.

"It doesn't matter how much we're getting paid!" shouted the merc with the glasses, whom I assumed was named Roll from the bearded merc's comment. "It won't be worth anything if we're all?"

"Quiet!" mister Nikos shouted back at her, slamming his fist on the desk. The sudden ceasing of his kind demeanor surprised Roll, and she grew silent. He made a deep 'ahem' sound with his throat and straightened his tie before turning back to the mercenary who had posed the question about his payment.

Mister Nikos made a failed attempt to regain his friendly tone after his outburst. "I appreciate your entrepreneurship, Andrew. To answer your question, you will each be paid eight hundred caps, and you will each walk away with one? souvenir from the vault. The rest is, of course to come to me."

"?I dunno," remarked the bearded merc.

"Hmm," mumbled Andrew, pondering the situation. The smirk that he gave when he finally made a decision gave off the feeling that he was sly, sneaky and generally untrustworthy.

"Sounds fair enough," he remarked, and chuckled under his breath.

I made a mental note to stay away from Andrew.

"That's one," Mister Nikos said aloud.

As Roll opened her mouth to begin protesting again, the final mercenary spoke for the first time. His hockey mask covered his face, but he had a serious look in his eyes. He looked over to Mister Nikos and answered with a simple "I'm in."

Roll looked over at the mercenary in the hockey mask. "Cid, think this over for a second!"

"That's two," Mister Nikos continued. His attention shifted over to the remaining two mercenaries.

"You know what? Count me in too!" the merc with the beard finally decided.

"Max!" Roll exclaimed, looking over to the bearded mercenary, before looking back at Mister Nikos.

He had that look in his eyes. "That's three..."

After a few moments of silence, Roll gave up and admitted defeat.

"Sure. Whatever. I'll go. This better be worth it."

"Excellent. Get your gear in order and move out immediately. Time is of the essence; we don't want the AEF to clear out that vault first." And with all of our death sentences thoroughly signed, Mister Nikos turned and left the room.

The mercenaries were rather quiet while they prepared. When Mister Nikos had left, I turned over to my partners. Kraken seemed blank as usual. Hornet seemed to be in a state between shock and anger.

"?Is he serious? How in the world does he expect us to pull this off?" Hornet had distinct concern in her voice.

I had my worries as well. As experienced as the mercenaries seemed, it was unlikely that they were prepared enough to take on the Aforcer Enforcer Force if it came down to it, and Kraken, Hornet and I certainly weren't.

"I know, I know? but what are we supposed to do?" I replied. "Say no?"

Hornet just shook her head and groaned. "What does Mister Nikos think he's doing? God-Dammit!"

And as usual, I had no response. I'm not very good with words.

---

I left the subway praying that the guns and supplies that we had packed would last the journey across Manhattan. It was an unlikely wish, sure, but it never hurt a man out here to dream.

Well, as long as you don't count all those guys who get killed while sleeping.

As soon as the gates leading above ground swung open, the light burned my eyes. I guess that after spending so long in the dark underground subway system, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sun. Once the blurriness cleared, I gave a good look at the streets around me. It's not like anything has changed since I last saw the streets of NYC, but it was still nice to see after so long.

As always, the road was covered in debris, and the remains of apartments extended as far as the eye could see.

The scrap-yard that this city has become certainly isn't much, but after being in it so long you begin to appreciate what's left. There is still a little bit of beauty if you look deep enough into New York's ruins. I keep hearing stories of people who emerge from these utopian vaults, and are shocked to see the ruins of humanity. Although I'm sure it's traumatic to be introduced to the shambles of society after a life of vault-ish luxury, for someone who's always lived here, you appreciate the little things.

I looked to the distance. The sun was rising over the wastes. It's always a beautiful sight.

I took in a deep breath of heavily irradiated air, and immediately began coughing.

"This week is going to be hell," I muttered to no one in particular. "Isn't it?"

Awesome job, this is definitely my fav story. I'm really excited for their trip through NY towards that Vault.

Very good, I look forward to the next instalment.

Same as the above, good read.