Status: Ongoing Story
Iacon Wasteland
Entering the Fallout Shelter
'War. War never changes.'
Ratchet couldn't help but think that as he was clutching his white chest, trying to prevent the energon from spewing from his bullet wound. The person on his right was doing his best to keep the enemy from advancing in on them while the person on the left was doing his best to cover multiple bullet wound, nearing death. Ratchet had spent his medical supplies on making sure he wouldn't die, so he was stuck suffering through the bullet wound with just a laser pistol.
*Thump!*
A piece of the ruins came down, nearly smashing into the three of them. The shooter was momentarily startled, leading him open for the enemy, who took advantage of it send a bullet to his shoulder. He gave a pained yell and collapse behind cover, clutching at his shoulder. Ratchet knew they were screwed unless backup comes soon, but that was growing less likely by the minute and the three of them would die in this abandon shithole.
Ratchet gave a groan of reluctant acceptance of his impending death. He really wish things hadn't change so drastically. He wished he was just some doctor instead of a survivor in the aftermath of an apocalypse. He wondered if he should've rejected the invitation if it meant he didn't have to be here, where death was inevitable. That damn invitation…
XXX
"Now, take a few antitechnotic injections and you'll be fine, Red Alert," Ratchet told him. The mainly white bot with some red coloring on his arms, sides, and chevron, was in his sterile and blinding white medical office, tending to a sick patient. He had been feeling a bit under the weather and Ratchet discovered that it was technopathogens that caused this. Problem was, it was Red Alert, the person you would see if you looked up paranoia in a dictionary.
"Are you sure? I mean, they-"
"These are from me to you. Trust me, you're fine," he tried to ease the paranoid individual. "I know you don't trust many people, but you can trust me." Red Alert looked uncertain, flicking his optics all across the room in suspicion before he asked:
"Are you positive this won't hurt me?"
"I'm sure. Just take the injection and you'll-"
*Knock. Knock.*
Small, calm knocks came from the door and Ratchet turned to the door, annoyed. "What is it?" He asked loudly to whomever knocked.
"A messenger for you, Ratchet," came an unfamiliar voice, calm, soft, and very eerie.
"What kind?" he asked.
"From Vault-Tec."
"Never heard of you," Ratchet yelled, annoyed.
"Vault-Tec?" Red Alert asked, as if he knew who they were.
"You know 'em," Ratchet asked him.
"They're a technology company of an unknown type. They've very secretive and bought some land a long time ago. Aside from that, they haven't done anything but that," Red Alert informed him. "I wouldn't trust them very much."
"Mr. Ratchet," the voice began again, "I just came to give you an invitation that you should attend a month from now. I will leave it outside for you. Do take it seriously." The voice stopped and left the two alone, leaving Ratchet to speak again.
"Alright, take these injections, and I assure you that you'll be fine," Ratchet told him again, handing him the vial of antitechnotic and a box of syringes. "Fill up five millimeters."
"Right, yeah," Red Alert agreed, taking the two items. Ratchet went to the door and opened it, letting Red Alert out. Red Alert sprinted out, mumbling to himself, as Ratchet looked around the waiting room. No one was around, but there was a datapad waiting for him. He picked it up and began reading it.
'Dear Ratchet
We cordially invite you to an event taking place in a month at Atacoma Hill, just outside of Iacon, as you hopefully know. I know this will seem strange, but this is of the upmost importance. You will not be alone, just so you know. This event will take place for an extended amount of time, so please bring as many supplies with you as possible, both necessary and luxurious. We are taking this seriously and have the backing of the government to do this.
Let us work together. Be there at 6:00 P.M.'
Vault-Tec
Ratchet finished reading and was confused by the ominous note. It was certainly suspicious, but they had the backing of the government and other people would be involve in it. It was odd, but if it was officially sanction, than there might be a punishment of some sort for not following along. Ratchet thought this through, wondering if it was worth the risk. After a couple of minutes, he went outside of the waiting room to his clinic to the waiting room for all the doctors in general and walked up to the receptionist, who was slouching behind the counter.
"Yes, Ratchet?" he asked, turning to glare at him.
"Listen, I'm going to need you to cancel all of my appointments a month and later from now," Ratchet informed him.
"That's drastic," he muttered, heading back to get the datapad. "Why is that?"
"The person you sent to me gave me an invitation for something," Ratchet told him.
"Oh, that creepy guy?" he asked coming over and show off all the appointments that Ratchet had.
"What did he looked like?" Ratchet asked.
"Creepy," he answered. "Black with white optics. Average height and build. Creepy voice."
"Right, thanks." Ratchet grabbed it and began eradicating all appointments after the month. "I'll reschedule once I'm done with this… 'event,'" Ratchet told the receptionist.
"Whatever," he muttered, messing around with a small device. Ratchet could tell that he was playing a game from the sounds coming from it, probably a racing game of some sort. Ratchet kept going until he was done and placed it in front of the receptionist.
"Be sure to call and inform these people about the canceled appointment," Ratchet ordered him.
"Uh-huh," he replied absentmindedly and Ratchet left him, heading back to his area to prepare for the upcoming patients. He would have to plan for the event, but he had to care about the patients first.
XXX
"Well, here I am," Ratchet muttered, walking up to the base of the hill where a large crowd were. He could count probably 40 people there, waiting to know what was going on. Ratchet walked over, carrying two white, metal boxes with him. One for his medical supplies, one for his necessities and comforts. He stood away from the crowd with the sun descending behind his back and one of the two moons already being partially visible. As he waited, he felt a little nervous. A crowd this large for an event? It was quite suspicious.
"Hey," a voice said from beside him and turned to see a bot with a short, stout purple body and tan limbs. The most striking thing about him would be his large purple optics that appeared to be oversized on his square head. "How you doing?" he asked with a charismatic smile, hefting a blue bag around his shoulders.
"Doing fine. Suspicious of what's going on here," Ratchet muttered, looking around.
"Yeah. Good to see I'm not the only one," he said, looking him over. "What do you do?"
"I'm a doctor," he replied.
"Oh, I'm a salesmech of various kinds," he told him. "Sales rep, requisition officer, good-old-fashioned salesmech. I've done a lot. Maybe if the world goes into war, I'll start working as a weapons contractor. I was working as a sales rep for these guys when they gave me an invitation for this experiment and told me that I would get a bonus."
"Really. Then what could you tell me about them?" Ratchet asked him.
"Not much. They're a secretive bunch and I was hired to get some hard to obtained supplies from those unwilling to give it up," he told him. "Mostly security based stuff. High-tech sensors and stuff like that."
"Hurry up," a voice ordered from behind them and they turned to see a mainly purple with black highlights bot with red optics order a red-and-white bot with blue optics. Both of them were roughly the same average size with the black one being slightly taller and wider. The purple color covered the tall one with his head being colored black and black being around his sides. The small one had a red head, body, and legs while his arms were colored white. Both of them were carrying white boxes similar to Ratchet's.
"Well hello there," the tan bot greeted, waving to them. The two walked on over to them, stopping in front of them and looking out at the crowd gather around.
"There's quite a lot of them," the red bot muttered.
"Yeah," he agreed, turning around to get a second look at the group before turning back to them. "So… what's your occupation?"
"I'm a doctor and he's my assistant," the purple bot answered.
"Ah, really. So am I," Ratchet responded with a smile.
"Salesmech. Nor connected to him if you're wondering," the short one told them with a nod.
"Well, my name's First Aid," the red bot told them excitedly.
"Ah, my name's Ratchet," the doctor told them.
"Swindle," the merchant told them with a bright smile.
"Ambulon," the purple bot grunted.
"You don't look like a doctor," Ratchet said to the purple bot, who did looked a bit sloppy.
"I never really cared for aesthetics," he told them. He was a bit sloppy looking, but not so bad that he could give you an infection just by touching you. "I am still a very capable doctor, just so you know."
"I don't doubt it, considering… whoever brought you here saw something in you, as well as I'm guessing the rest of us," Ratchet told them.
"I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure they just invited me here because I'm one of their sales rep," Swindle told them. "They're giving me a pay raise for being here."
"Lucky you," Ambulon sarcastically muttered.
"LISTEN UP!" an incredibly loud voice yelled, causing the four of them to cringe before looking at a rough-looking blue bot trying to get everybody's attention. "MY NAME'S SIREN! IT'S TIME TO BEGIN! FOLLOW ME!" With that, he started walking around the side of the mountain, instead of going up it, which surprised a few people, but they followed along. The four looked at each other.
"Well, guess it's time to follow the loudmouth," Swindle told everyone, heading for the group. The three doctors looked at each other before following along. They sped up to reach the group and followed along the leader as they made their way around the tall mountain, who was rambling along in that loud voice of his.
"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A GOOD TIME HERE, MAYBE! THIS IS GOING TO BE GREAT, QUITE POSSIBLY! IT WILL BE ALRIGHT, IF NOTHING FAILS!"
"He is certainly cynically optimistic," Ambulon noticed. "A nice contradiction."
"I wonder why this 'event' has got him all messed up," First Aid wondered.
"Well, we have no idea what this event is, so he might know something that we don't," Ratchet told him.
"Great. Get my anxieties up," he muttered. The group kept going, with Siren obnoxiously loud voice with his 'cynical optimism' filling everybody's audio receptors with pain. They kept going until they reached the other side where an opening in the mountain was, showing off a cave.
"NOW, I HOPE NONE OF YOU ARE CLAUSTROPHOBIC, AS WE GOT TO ENTER THIS CAVE TO GET TO WHERE NEED TO GO! I KNOW, VERY CREEPY, BUT WE NEED TO ENTER TO GET TO WHERE WE NEED TO GO! WE HAVE A REALLY AWESOME FACILITY INSIDE FOR THE EVENT!" he instructed them, heading inside the cave. The whole group looked at each other nervously before following along, wondering if he was telling the truth. The group entered the place, one or two at a time due to the small size. With the four of them in the back, they had to wait a while for them to get in.
"I'm… not a fan of tight spaces," First Aid muttered.
"Get used to it," Ambulon muttered. "We're going to be here for a little while."
"I hate this," he muttered. "Why did we agree to this?"
"Interest."
"Great."
"CAREFUL AROUND THE MAGNESIUM WALLS! IT'S TIGHT!" Siren cautioned people as they were nearing the entrance.
"Well, get ready. I don't think we'll be leaving this cave system for a little while, although I'm guessing they built an underground facility here for us," Swindle told them.
"Well, that's a small comfort," First Aid muttered. "It'll still be a small place."
"Maybe, but it shouldn't be too bad," he told them.
"So you say."
"We're reaching the wall. Keep calm," Ratchet told them. Indeed, they were one pair behind the entrance. The pairing in front entered and Swindle and Ratchet paired up with the two medics behind them. They entered dark cave, illuminated by a single line of light along the ceiling that lit the place up dimly.
"HERE'S THE ENTRANCE TO THE PLACE! A BIT BULKY, BUT IT'S SOME STRONG STUFF! EXPLOSIVE RESISTANT AND RADIATION RESISTANT! THE ONLY WAY THIS IS FAILING IS WITH AGE!" Siren shouted to everyone, leaving the four in the back confused.
"Ugh, I wish they had a more spacious cave for us to enter," Ambulon complained, his left shoulder slightly rubbing against the cave wall every now and then.
"Agreed," Swindle responded, his right shoulder rubbing against the wall as well. "This is not a comfy space."
"It's kind of hard to walk through this and carry my stuff," Ratchet acknowledge.
"How long you think we'll stay here," First Aid asked nervously. "I'm already not liking this."
"At least a few days, considering that we had to bring our stuff," Swindle told him. "Shouldn't be that long."
"That might already be too much," he muttered.
"Consider this character development," Ambulon told him, uncaring.
"Good to see you care about me," First Aid muttered.
"I do. It's just- what is that? The entrance?" he asked, startled. The four look up to see this large metal entrance. The frame was a strong, metal while the actual door appeared to be a metal hatch that was pulled back into the base.
"Woah… that's an unusual entrance," First Aid mumbled.
"It's… like a vault," Swindle realized. "What if… they're protecting us?" Swindle asked the group.
"Why would someone be targeting us," Ratchet questioned him. "What do all of us have in common that we would need to be protected?"
"…Do you guys live in Iacon?" Swindle asked them.
"Yes. Eastside as does First Aid," Ambulon told him.
"I live in Eastside too," Ratchet confirmed.
"Right… I live in Eastside," Swindle told them.
"So all of these people are from Eastside?" First Aid guessed.
"It would appear that way," Swindle muttered as they reached the door. The four of them entered the entrance room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all clean steel, a wonderful reprieve from walking in the dirty metal. The steel was a cold grey with yellow highlights. On both sides was a both with a short staircase to enter them with a glass viewing area. In front of them was a door that led to another room. They entered it to find an elevator on the right, a closed room on the left and a staircase in front of them. They continued descending staircase heading further down. The group continue down the stairs until they emptied out into a big room. It was good for the large group, being a two-story big room, with them on the balcony. They could see that the line was continuing to a door where they were descending down more steps.
"How large is this place?" Ambulon asked, looking around the area.
"I don't know. Sales rep, not a building designer," he told them. "They must have it pretty big to supply all of us."
"I swear, you four keep babbling on," the bot in front of them complained, turning to them, with his red optics. He was purple-white-and-black, however, he was more black than the other two, with purple only being used as stripes for his limbs. "What do you keep talking about?"
"Quick question, you work at Iacon?" Swindle asked him.
"Yeah. I'm a cop," he told them.
"Live in Eastside?"
"Yes," he agreed, looking at them suspiciously. "How do you know that?"
"It seems that they've gather a bunch of people from Eastside and brought them here," Ratchet told him.
"You four are intuitive," he growled. "Thanks for the information. The name's Barricade." The four gave their names. "Thanks for that. It's best to work together if things go wrong here." They arrived at the next set of stairs with a label of 'ATRIUM'. They entered and descended quicker than last time and entered a large room with circular tables everywhere as well as a couple of side rooms and doors that led elsewhere.
"WELCOME ALL! THIS HERE IS THE ATRIUM! THIS CONNECTS EVERY SECTION OF THE FACILITY TOGETHER AND IS OUR MAIN MEETING POINT! WHEN IT IS TIME FOR A GROUP MEETING, WHICH WE'LL HAVE LATER, AFTER YOU CHECK YOU'RE ROOMS OUT AND TOMORROW MORNING, WE'LL MEET UP HERE!" Siren explained to the group, turning around to address. "NOW, THAT CORNER," he pointed to the one behind him on the left corner, "LEADS TO EVERYONE'S ROOM! THERE ARE FORTY OF YOU PLUS THE TEN STAFF MEMBERS. THE STAFF MEMBERS HAVE ALREADY CLAIM THEIR ROOMS, SO CLAIM YOURS RIGHT NOW! JUST GO DOWN AND TAKE A RIGHT!" The group paused as they understand what the loudmouth said before heading to the door.
"So, a facility run by a staff of ten," Ratchet muttered.
"They could use more," Ambulon muttered.
"If they plan on making us stay here for an extended amount of time, it's quite possibly that they'll have us doing some of the jobs," Barricade muttered. "They probably invited me here so I can watch people."
"Three of us are doctors," First Aid told him.
"I'm a sales rep for Vault-Tec," Swindle told him, "although I have no idea why they would want me here to help."
"Maybe for supplies," Ambulon guessed. "You can help maintain it."
"I guess." The group reached the steps, passing Siren who was watching over them with his blue optics nervously, biting his fingers nervously. The group went down the stairs where there was a branching path to a left, right, and straight ahead. The group went right and headed down to the right hall. Next was a bunch of hallways. They followed along as the group thin out entering rooms. There were doors on both sides and kept going for ten rooms before branching off left, right and straight, with rooms being on the left and right side while straight went up. The five of them went right and kept going until all five of them were left with five unclaimed rooms at the back of the hallway.
"Well, let's pick out rooms," Ratchet told them, picking the one to the left at the back of the hall. He opened it to find a nice sized room. In it was a recharge slab at the back-right corner, a cabinet and locker for tools and supplies at the back-left corner looking to the right, a desk with a computer on the left wall, and a TV of a great size at the front wall. Ratchet walked over and placed the two boxes on the berth. He opened his box of tools and looked to see all of his medical tools made the trip unscathed. With that done, he walked back out to see Barricade hanging around outside his door, the closest one to the intersection. Ratchet walked up to him and began talking.
"So, cop?" Ratchet asked.
"Yeah, been serving for 9,000 years," he told him. "I currently work in homicide. Pays well. Obviously not as good as the gilded heights the senators and all their kind live in, but it's nice enough. Plus, I get to rough up some of the crooks I get."
"Ah, so you're that kind," Ratchet muttered with disgust.
"I only do it to the truly sick ones," Barricade defended himself. "When I first started, I loved doing it, but the more you look into it, the more you realize that a lot of murderers are just desperate people who have been screwed over by a lot of people and more than a few victims were people that were worse than the murderers that killed them. It's why I really enjoy it when the murderer is a sick one that resists arrest. It basically gives me full discretion to break his limbs," he finished with a smile. "I must admit, I do enjoy hurting those that truly deserve it a little bit."
"Hmph, so that's your angle," Ratchet muttered.
"Well, let's talk about you. You're a doctor, what else?" Barricade asked him.
"Well, been a doctor for about as longs as I can remember. Must be verging on 100,000 by now. I make sure that every one of my patients live. Only got a few that died from my operating table from injuries that couldn't be heal. Every now and then, I get a patient that I would prefer dead rather than on my operating table, but I need to get paid and not get jailed for malpractice," Ratchet told him.
"Clinic or hospital?"
"Right now, I'm a clinic doctor," he told him. "It's much easier than being a hospital doctor. I'll probably be going back to a hospital in a few hundred years."
"Right… if they let us out," Barricade muttered, looking around.
"Well, that's done," Ambulon said, getting out, as well as Swindle, from their rooms.
"So, you two have been getting along," Swindle asked with a smirked to Ratchet and Barricade.
"Just some background," Ratchet told him. "We're just waiting for First Aid, right?"
"Yeah. I hope he isn't freaking out so much," Ambulon muttered.
"You guys are very calm." The group to see the person exit out of the room across from Barricade. The bot was of an orange color with yellow highlights and yellow optics.
"Well, we got an idea of what's going on," he told him.
"Huh… that's good." He paused before speaking again nervously. "So, since we're probably going to be here for a while, my name's Pyrobyte." The others gave off their name. "Well, nice to meet you. Good to see I can find people to talk to without my twin here," he muttered.
"Same-spark twin?" Ratchet asked.
"Yeah. His name is Cryobyte. You can see a theme," he told them with a chuckle, smacking his hands together before he started walking off. "I better head on out and introduce myself to a bunch of other people. Let's talk some more!" he yelled out as he walked down the hall back to the atrium.
"Well, he seems to have low self-esteem," Swindle muttered.
"Hey, guys," First Aid said, coming out. "Shall we head back up?"
"Yeah. See no reason not to," Ratchet agreed along with everyone else agreeing with him. The group began walking back to the atrium and kept chatting with each other.
"Alright, I've got the specific on Ratchet being a clinic doctor and I'm a homicide cop, so what do you guys specifically do?" Barricade asked the three others.
"I work in the hospital, with First Aid as my assistant. We specialize in surgery and ward care," Ambulon told them.
"Sales rep for the people that built this, Vault-Tec. Since we've looked around, I remember bartering with another company on that door that we used to enter the place," Swindle told them. "I heard rumors that they made a lot of these. My guess, they've been using that to supply banks and stuff to make a profit for this place."
"Makes sense," Ambulon agreed. "Where did this company come from, anyway? I never heard of them before I got that letter."
"A patient of mine said they were a technology company and has bought quite a bit of land. I'm guessing this facility is what they use the land for. They are a very esoteric group," Ratchet informed them, walking up the steps to the atrium.
"Well, I guess if we want more information, we better go talk to the one who can't talk quietly," Ambulon said, referring to the guide who brought them here.
"I wonder if he can talk normally," Swindle joked.
"I guess we'll find out." They reached the top of the stairs and entered the atrium where everyone was sitting around at tables. The group of five went to the nearest empty table and took a seat at an empty table neat the center. A little away from them, Siren was pacing back and forth, still biting his digits. He was still waiting for the last few to trickle in.
"So," Barricade started for everybody, "how big you think this place is?"
"Don't know, don't care. We'll figure out soon," Swindle told him. "Although it is certainly big."
"Yeah, I guess," he told him, "but it's still worth considering."
"Well, what would it take to run one these underground facilities?" First Aid asked. "Obviously, we need a medical area, along with a generator room of some sort to run anything."
"They'll probably want a security area of some sort, to keep the peace around here," Barricade muttered.
"Storage area for supplies," Swindle mentioned, "especially for energon."
"An entertainment place," Ambulon muttered.
"A washing place to keep our frames clean," Ratchet said.
"That's a lot of rooms," First Aid muttered. "I really hope we don't have to use anything for long."
"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY'S HERE!" Siren shouted, immediately causing them to flinch in pain. That was going to be tough to get used to. They turned to see Siren addressing the group with a box next to him. "NOW, AS A WELCOMING GIFT FOR ALL OF YOU, WE HAVE SOMETHING FOR ALL OF YOU!" He hefted the box up and brought it around to everyone. Ratchet's group waited until Siren came to them and hand one out to each of them. Ratchet looked at it. It appeared to be some sort of minicomputer that needs to be connected to something, like a wristwatch. Siren kept going, staying quiet as he gave one to everyone and went back to his spot. "NOW, THIS IS A WONDERFUL INVENTION BY VAULT-TEC: THE PIPBOT! OUR HUDS ARE VERY CAPABLE, BUT THIS MAKES THINGS BETTER! FIRST, ATTACH IT TO A WRIST OF YOUR CHOICE!" People glanced at each other before attaching it to their wrist, most of them attaching it to their left wrist. Each one were flexible and capable of stretching and collapsing to fit the user's arm. The device was already activated and waiting to be used. "OKAY, NOW YOU NEED TO CLICK THE SCREEN AND INPUT YOUR NAME IN CASE YOU LOSE IT AND WE CAN RETURN IT TO YOU!"
Everyone did so and inputted their name in, leading them to the main-menu where a variety of things they could do. "NOW, THE DEVICE ACTS AS AN AUTOMATIC MEDICAL SCANNER! IF YOU GO TO CONDITION, IT'LL SHOW YOU YOUR BODY'S HEALTH AND RADIATION AMOUNT! THAT'S REALLY IMPORTANT! YOU CAN ALSO WRITE IN A JOURNAL, UPLOAD MESSAGES TO IT, AND A MAP FOR THIS BUILDING! WE'VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS, BUT I'LL LET YOU EXAMINE THAT AT YOUR OWN TIME! FOR NOW, YOU'RE PROBABLY WONDERING WHY YOU'RE HERE? WELL, QUITE SIMPLY, MOST OF YOU WON A SPECIAL LOTTERY!" That cause some confusion as they wondered what he was talking about. "WE MADE A SPECIAL LOTTERY FOR ALL YOU THAT LIVE IN EASTSIDE! WHAT IS THIS ABOUT? WELL, YOU'LL LEARN ABOUT THAT TOMORROW! UNTIL THEN, EXPLORE THE FACILITY! AND JUST A REMINDER, MY NAME IS SIREN AND I'M THE OVERSEER HERE! TALK TO ME ABOUT ANYTHING YOU'RE CONFUSED ABOUT!" he finished, walking off to the side out of everybody's way.
"Siren is such an apt name," Ambulon muttered. "I felt like a siren embedded itself into my head."
"Well, what should we check out?" Ratchet asked the group.
"I think that we should just try to relax a little and head to the entertainment room, if they have one," First Aid recommended to them.
"Why don't you check to see if they have it on the map?" Swindle pointed out.
"Oh… yeah," First Aid muttered, looking at his Pipbot and clicked on it a few times. "Got it!" he cheered.
"Where?" Ambulon asked.
"Right above everybody's quarters," First Aid told them.
"So that's where the stairs lead," Ratchet muttered. "Makes sense. Best to keep those two close together."
"This place is really big," First Aid said in awe. "I wonder how long it took for them to build this facility."
"An amount of time," Barricade sarcastically answered, which caused him to frown.
"No need to be rude," First Aid muttered, which he replied with a shrug of indifference.
"Right," Ratchet ordered, "let's go to-" He turned his head and saw someone ask Siren a question. "Oh scrap."
"WELL-,"
XXX
"I'm glad to be away from him," Swindle muttered, rubbing the side of his head to ease his audio receptors as they made their way up the stairs to the entertainment area.
"How can anyone be so loud?" First Aid wondered as they made their way up
"Could be a dysfunctional voice-box," Ratchet answered. "Some people are created defects. His voice box is probably one."
"You would think he would fix that," Barricade muttered.
"The voice box is really hard to work on if you want to change it," Ambulon answered. "It's surrounded by many critical sections and it's hard to work around."
"He's right," Ratchet confirmed. "We don't work on it unless it's absolutely necessary, which it never is."
"It would be comfortable on the audios if you can do that, you be doing the world a service, even if you accidently kill him," Swindle muttered as they reached the room. The group took the time to examine the room. It was colored a cool blue with blue lights furnished with a TV taking up the wall on the left and a bar taking up a corner on the right side. There was stools at the bar and a couch with several seats in front of the TV with tables and chairs at the unused corner and a couple of cabinets around the area. There was few people there, a couple investigating the bar with one investigating the TV.
"Hmm, seems like a nice enough place," Ratchet muttered. "How much does this cost?"
"Well, the TV is worth a 1000 on its own, the couch is 500 with the comfortable chairs worth 200 apiece and the chairs and table in the corner are worth 500 a set. The bar is a little bit more difficult, but I'm guessing 1,200 for that with 50 a stool," Swindle counted everything up.
"You can tell all that from a glanced?" Barricade gawked at that.
"Salesmech. My job," he told them. "Anyway, this is easily over 4000 shanix."
"That's two months of my salary," Barricade grumbled.
"They don't mind paying a great amount for our comfort," Ambulon noted, the group entering the room. The two at the bar had already found the high-grade and were cheering each other as they drank it. The other one, a robot of three shades of blue and lankier than everyone else, was investigating exactly what was in the TV.
"Hey," he said to the group who looked at him oddly before someone spoke.
"Yeah?" Swindle asked.
"This TV," he turned to them, "has every TV show and movie on it. I'm not even kidding."
"Every show?" First Aid asked. "Does it have E.E.R.?"
"Yeah."
"Under the Scalpel?"
"Uh-huh."
"Headspace?"
"Yes."
This made a long series of First Aid asking TV shows and the increasing aggravated robot telling him, yes that show was on the TV. By the time it was all over, the bot was relaxing in the couch, getting ready to take a nap and the others members of the group was getting annoyed.
"You didn't tell me that your partner love to rust himself over watching TV," Ratchet murmured to Ambulon.
"That's because I didn't know he was this obsessed," Ambulon told him, surprised.
"Well, I guess they have a lot at least," First Aid told them.
"Oh, you finally stop!" the blue bot yelled in relief.
"Oh, I'm sorry for annoying you, uh…"
"Tacklebolt," he told him, exasperated. "Please be less annoying."
"Sorry," First Aid apologized. "My name is First Aid."
"Well, at least you're not getting overloaded like my friends over there," he told him, shrugging his shoulder at the drinking couple. One was black-and-yellow bot who was bigger and taller than most, looking like a tank. The other one was yellow-and-blue bot, who was almost as bulky as the one he was drink with. He was probably a supply truck.
"The blackish one is Treads and the blueish one is Tidalshock. I'll probably have to drag them back to their rooms," he murmured the last sentence.
"I… highly doubt someone of your stature could do that," First Aid told him.
"Don't worry, I'm creative," he told him, looking back at the drinking couple. "And they're touching each other again. How grand."
"Uh, what do you, oh," First Aid murmured, watching as the black one took his high-grade energon coated fingers and feeding it to the other one, was gladly accepted it and suck it. "I forgot to mention, those two are conjunx enduras with each other. They're pretty flagrant with their displays of affections."
"That's… great," First Aid muttered.
"Damn… he's deep-throating that finger," Swindle muttered as he got a device out and started recording them.
"Well, do you guys want to ignore them and watch some TV with me?" Tacklebolt asked them.
"That would be nice," Ratchet agreed, as did the rest of them, minus Swindle, who made a good excuse.
"I know people who would pay for this and I'm not letting the opportunity go to waste." With that, the group took a seat with Tacklebolt on couches and chairs.
"Now, let's watch some TV and chat until it's time to give up," Tacklebolt told them.
XXX
"Wow, can't believe window wiping can be so dangerous," First Aid muttered as Tacklebolt was done finishing a story.
"Well, now you know. Window wiping is some scary stuff," Tacklebolt said, taking a swig of energon. The group was getting used to each other and a few others had entered the room, either drinking at the bar or hanging out with the group watching TV, including Pyrobyte.
"Sounds more exciting than my job as a smelter," Pyrobyte said, taking a drink as well before continuing. "Smelting is dangerous at first, but once you get it, it's effortless. The only thing really dangerous are the gases coming from it, but it only affects organics."
"You work at a smelting bank with the name Pyrobyte? What, does your twin work at a cryobank?" Barricade derided.
"Actually, yes. Told you our names has a theme," he told them with a chuckle.
"What time is it?" one of the newcomers asked, a yellow-and-orange bot with a generic car kibble, asked.
"It's, uh, 13:57, Sunspot," First Aid answered after fumbling with his Pipbot. "Getting closer to midnight."
"Right. I'm going to my room. Have fun," he said, getting up and leaving the room, with a last word not many people heard. "I already can't wait to get out and see the sun." He exited the room without fanfare. With his exit, Swindle came over from the bar and took a sit where Sunspot was.
"Well, I've got enough footage to make me quite a bit of money," Swindle said with a grin. "I should hire those two professionally."
"That's… disgusting," Ratchet muttered.
"Hey, I make money however I can," he defended himself.
"There are standards," he growled, glaring at him.
"Hey, tonight a night to relax and have fun. Just think, is anybody else in our position, relaxing in this cool underground bunker," Pyrobyte mediated between the two.
"You say it like it's automatically a good thing," Ambulon said. "We still have no idea why we're here."
"Well, it's nice to relax from all the troubles going on up top," said a white-and-black motorcycle with orange tinges.
"Ugh, don't remind me, Lugnutz. Those idiots can't talk with each other and settle things between each other. They're probably going to destroy this world if they keep it up," Tacklebolt joked.
"Hey, it's almost midnight," First Aid said. "Just ten seconds."
"Than count us down!" Pyrobyte cheered.
"Alright, uh, five, four, three, two, one, and… midnight," First Aid said, "and nothing happen, as it should."
"Well, we sleep through it usually. Do we expect anything different this time?" Tacklebolt asked with a smile. "The world doesn't change in a moment."
"Yeah, I guess," First Aid agreed, a small smile on his face.
"Well, it's midnight. I need to go to sleep for the night," Ratchet announced, getting up. "I'm not supposed to stay up this late."
"Take care, Ratchet. I imagine we'll have some fun here," Swindle told him. I'll be down in a couple of minutes to check up on you."
"Yeah… hopefully not too much," he muttered the last bit too low for anybody to hear and exited out of the room and went down the stairs. He was coping with the whole thing pleasantly well, but he can't help but feel that something was wrong here. Why bring them to this bunker? Why them specifically? They said a lottery, but there had to be more than that. It just didn't sit right with Ratchet no matter how he looked it.
Ratchet reached the hallway and walked slowly, ready to turn in for the night, but noticed someone next to his door. Sunspot was just hanging around, looking at a datapad. "Hey, are you alright?" Ratchet asked. Sunspot jumped and stared at him in fear before cooling down, knowing that Ratchet didn't mean any harm. Ratchet looked at him with a mix of suspicion and worriment. Something has obviously got him jumped up.
"I'm fine… you next to my room?" he asked, looking at Barricade's door.
"No, I'm all the way at the end," he told him, pointing to his door. "Is everything alright?"
"Uh, well, I'm just worried about… things," he told him, looking guilty. At that, Ratchet could make a guest at what was up with him.
"Let me guess, people trying to kill you," Ratchet answered, causing his optics to nearly pop out.
"Uh, what the… how do you… are you psychic?" Sunspot asked.
"You're seriously equating me those shams?" Ratchet growled, insulted, causing Sunspot to jump at his hostile tone.
"No, no, no, it'd just… completely on point," Sunspot told him.
"Listen, I'm a clinic doctor, and I've dealt with people who were injured by attempted murderers and they all act like you: jumpy and nervous, although they had the additional effect of suffering from a bullet or knife wound," the doctor explained to him.
"Well, t-that's very perceptive," he muttered. "Look, I work at an observatory at a little bit outside Iacon on Baloka hill. We get constantly harassed from this gang that hangs around outside of Iacon. It was small at first, vandalism and trespassing, but it got a lot worse. That kept pushing and pushing until they started assaulting us and they killed a couple of people. It was just after the murder when I got the note to come to this bunker. I decided to take all of the relevant data and wait until it was time to come. Then, well, I heard that the gang was looking for me and they specifically were after my data so I had to move around until it was time for me to come and, well, here I am," Sunspot finished off his story, feeling relieve at getting that off his shoulders. Ratchet was a little surprised, but not that affected. He had heard a lot of things on the operating table and from patients.
"Well, looks like you're safe here for now. I doubt they can get through that door. It's damn near impossible to break with military explosives, and even less so considering they are just a gang. Relax, you'll be fine here… for now," Ratchet told him and that seemed to calm Sunspot down even more and put a small smile on his face.
"Yeah, thanks for that," he thanked him.
"You're welcome," Ratchet reciprocated.
"I swear, I'm worrying over-"
*Rumble!*
The place shook briefly, surprising the two. "What the frag is that?" Sunspot asked, looking around, going back to his nervous phase.
"That… was an explosion I think," Ratchet answered.
"Oh, no. I knew it. They found me and they're trying to break in," Sunspot yelled.
"No, that… was far too large for a simple gang to pull off. That was some high-grade stuff considering we could feel it from all the way down here," he debunked.
"Then… then… what was it?"
*Rumble!*
"Another one!" Sunspot yelled. "What the frag!"
"Oh, scrap!" came a voice and Swindle came crashing down the stairs. "
"Swindle?" Ratchet asked, quickly making his way over. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's just," he got up, a little bit in pain, "that second rumble catch me off guard."
"So, we're not the only one feeling it?" Sunspot asked, moving over to where the two were.
"Yeah, everybody in the room felt that and wondering what's going on," Swindle told him. "I have no idea what's going on."
"Then, how do we figure this out?" he asked.
*SCREECH!*
The three of them grasp their head in pain as the intercom started and Siren started speaking over it. "LISTEN UP! THE MEETING THAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN IS STARTING NOW! MEET UP AT THE ATRUIM!" The intercom went silent and the three release their grip in relief and wondering what was going on.
"We need to head to the atrium. Maybe he will finally fill us in on what's going on," Ratchet told them. "Let's go." The three of them quickly started heading for the atrium, with a few people exiting their room to head to the atrium as well. They quickly made themselves up the stairs and into the atrium and took a seat at the nearest table to the door. People quickly rushed in, with the group Ratchet was hanging out with join him at the table or the tables next to him. Before they knew it, everyone was there and Siren had made his way to in front of everybody and Ratchet instantly regretted picking the spot, because he was in the front row and would be feeling the full force of his voice.
"ALRIGHT, THIS WAS SUPPOSE TO TAKE PLACE LATER, BUT THE RUMBLES YOU'VE FELT HAS SPED UP THE PROCESS! NOW, CONSIDERING THE CIRCUMSTANCE, IT'S BEST TO GO AHEAD AND EXPLAIN TO YOU TWO THINGS THAT WILL NO DOUBT SURPRISE YOU AND WILL MAKE YOU FEEL… SAD, TO SAY THE LEAST!" Siren explained to everybody and Ratchet could tell, despite how loud he was, that his voice was dejected. "SO, THE TWO THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THIS! THE PLACE WE ARE IN IS A FALLOUT SHELTER AND THE RUMBLE YOU FELT WAS A NUCLEAR BOMB!"
There was a paused and everyone went into an uproar.
Ratchet couldn't help but think that as he was clutching his white chest, trying to prevent the energon from spewing from his bullet wound. The person on his right was doing his best to keep the enemy from advancing in on them while the person on the left was doing his best to cover multiple bullet wound, nearing death. Ratchet had spent his medical supplies on making sure he wouldn't die, so he was stuck suffering through the bullet wound with just a laser pistol.
*Thump!*
A piece of the ruins came down, nearly smashing into the three of them. The shooter was momentarily startled, leading him open for the enemy, who took advantage of it send a bullet to his shoulder. He gave a pained yell and collapse behind cover, clutching at his shoulder. Ratchet knew they were screwed unless backup comes soon, but that was growing less likely by the minute and the three of them would die in this abandon shithole.
Ratchet gave a groan of reluctant acceptance of his impending death. He really wish things hadn't change so drastically. He wished he was just some doctor instead of a survivor in the aftermath of an apocalypse. He wondered if he should've rejected the invitation if it meant he didn't have to be here, where death was inevitable. That damn invitation…
XXX
"Now, take a few antitechnotic injections and you'll be fine, Red Alert," Ratchet told him. The mainly white bot with some red coloring on his arms, sides, and chevron, was in his sterile and blinding white medical office, tending to a sick patient. He had been feeling a bit under the weather and Ratchet discovered that it was technopathogens that caused this. Problem was, it was Red Alert, the person you would see if you looked up paranoia in a dictionary.
"Are you sure? I mean, they-"
"These are from me to you. Trust me, you're fine," he tried to ease the paranoid individual. "I know you don't trust many people, but you can trust me." Red Alert looked uncertain, flicking his optics all across the room in suspicion before he asked:
"Are you positive this won't hurt me?"
"I'm sure. Just take the injection and you'll-"
*Knock. Knock.*
Small, calm knocks came from the door and Ratchet turned to the door, annoyed. "What is it?" He asked loudly to whomever knocked.
"A messenger for you, Ratchet," came an unfamiliar voice, calm, soft, and very eerie.
"What kind?" he asked.
"From Vault-Tec."
"Never heard of you," Ratchet yelled, annoyed.
"Vault-Tec?" Red Alert asked, as if he knew who they were.
"You know 'em," Ratchet asked him.
"They're a technology company of an unknown type. They've very secretive and bought some land a long time ago. Aside from that, they haven't done anything but that," Red Alert informed him. "I wouldn't trust them very much."
"Mr. Ratchet," the voice began again, "I just came to give you an invitation that you should attend a month from now. I will leave it outside for you. Do take it seriously." The voice stopped and left the two alone, leaving Ratchet to speak again.
"Alright, take these injections, and I assure you that you'll be fine," Ratchet told him again, handing him the vial of antitechnotic and a box of syringes. "Fill up five millimeters."
"Right, yeah," Red Alert agreed, taking the two items. Ratchet went to the door and opened it, letting Red Alert out. Red Alert sprinted out, mumbling to himself, as Ratchet looked around the waiting room. No one was around, but there was a datapad waiting for him. He picked it up and began reading it.
'Dear Ratchet
We cordially invite you to an event taking place in a month at Atacoma Hill, just outside of Iacon, as you hopefully know. I know this will seem strange, but this is of the upmost importance. You will not be alone, just so you know. This event will take place for an extended amount of time, so please bring as many supplies with you as possible, both necessary and luxurious. We are taking this seriously and have the backing of the government to do this.
Let us work together. Be there at 6:00 P.M.'
Vault-Tec
Ratchet finished reading and was confused by the ominous note. It was certainly suspicious, but they had the backing of the government and other people would be involve in it. It was odd, but if it was officially sanction, than there might be a punishment of some sort for not following along. Ratchet thought this through, wondering if it was worth the risk. After a couple of minutes, he went outside of the waiting room to his clinic to the waiting room for all the doctors in general and walked up to the receptionist, who was slouching behind the counter.
"Yes, Ratchet?" he asked, turning to glare at him.
"Listen, I'm going to need you to cancel all of my appointments a month and later from now," Ratchet informed him.
"That's drastic," he muttered, heading back to get the datapad. "Why is that?"
"The person you sent to me gave me an invitation for something," Ratchet told him.
"Oh, that creepy guy?" he asked coming over and show off all the appointments that Ratchet had.
"What did he looked like?" Ratchet asked.
"Creepy," he answered. "Black with white optics. Average height and build. Creepy voice."
"Right, thanks." Ratchet grabbed it and began eradicating all appointments after the month. "I'll reschedule once I'm done with this… 'event,'" Ratchet told the receptionist.
"Whatever," he muttered, messing around with a small device. Ratchet could tell that he was playing a game from the sounds coming from it, probably a racing game of some sort. Ratchet kept going until he was done and placed it in front of the receptionist.
"Be sure to call and inform these people about the canceled appointment," Ratchet ordered him.
"Uh-huh," he replied absentmindedly and Ratchet left him, heading back to his area to prepare for the upcoming patients. He would have to plan for the event, but he had to care about the patients first.
XXX
"Well, here I am," Ratchet muttered, walking up to the base of the hill where a large crowd were. He could count probably 40 people there, waiting to know what was going on. Ratchet walked over, carrying two white, metal boxes with him. One for his medical supplies, one for his necessities and comforts. He stood away from the crowd with the sun descending behind his back and one of the two moons already being partially visible. As he waited, he felt a little nervous. A crowd this large for an event? It was quite suspicious.
"Hey," a voice said from beside him and turned to see a bot with a short, stout purple body and tan limbs. The most striking thing about him would be his large purple optics that appeared to be oversized on his square head. "How you doing?" he asked with a charismatic smile, hefting a blue bag around his shoulders.
"Doing fine. Suspicious of what's going on here," Ratchet muttered, looking around.
"Yeah. Good to see I'm not the only one," he said, looking him over. "What do you do?"
"I'm a doctor," he replied.
"Oh, I'm a salesmech of various kinds," he told him. "Sales rep, requisition officer, good-old-fashioned salesmech. I've done a lot. Maybe if the world goes into war, I'll start working as a weapons contractor. I was working as a sales rep for these guys when they gave me an invitation for this experiment and told me that I would get a bonus."
"Really. Then what could you tell me about them?" Ratchet asked him.
"Not much. They're a secretive bunch and I was hired to get some hard to obtained supplies from those unwilling to give it up," he told him. "Mostly security based stuff. High-tech sensors and stuff like that."
"Hurry up," a voice ordered from behind them and they turned to see a mainly purple with black highlights bot with red optics order a red-and-white bot with blue optics. Both of them were roughly the same average size with the black one being slightly taller and wider. The purple color covered the tall one with his head being colored black and black being around his sides. The small one had a red head, body, and legs while his arms were colored white. Both of them were carrying white boxes similar to Ratchet's.
"Well hello there," the tan bot greeted, waving to them. The two walked on over to them, stopping in front of them and looking out at the crowd gather around.
"There's quite a lot of them," the red bot muttered.
"Yeah," he agreed, turning around to get a second look at the group before turning back to them. "So… what's your occupation?"
"I'm a doctor and he's my assistant," the purple bot answered.
"Ah, really. So am I," Ratchet responded with a smile.
"Salesmech. Nor connected to him if you're wondering," the short one told them with a nod.
"Well, my name's First Aid," the red bot told them excitedly.
"Ah, my name's Ratchet," the doctor told them.
"Swindle," the merchant told them with a bright smile.
"Ambulon," the purple bot grunted.
"You don't look like a doctor," Ratchet said to the purple bot, who did looked a bit sloppy.
"I never really cared for aesthetics," he told them. He was a bit sloppy looking, but not so bad that he could give you an infection just by touching you. "I am still a very capable doctor, just so you know."
"I don't doubt it, considering… whoever brought you here saw something in you, as well as I'm guessing the rest of us," Ratchet told them.
"I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure they just invited me here because I'm one of their sales rep," Swindle told them. "They're giving me a pay raise for being here."
"Lucky you," Ambulon sarcastically muttered.
"LISTEN UP!" an incredibly loud voice yelled, causing the four of them to cringe before looking at a rough-looking blue bot trying to get everybody's attention. "MY NAME'S SIREN! IT'S TIME TO BEGIN! FOLLOW ME!" With that, he started walking around the side of the mountain, instead of going up it, which surprised a few people, but they followed along. The four looked at each other.
"Well, guess it's time to follow the loudmouth," Swindle told everyone, heading for the group. The three doctors looked at each other before following along. They sped up to reach the group and followed along the leader as they made their way around the tall mountain, who was rambling along in that loud voice of his.
"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A GOOD TIME HERE, MAYBE! THIS IS GOING TO BE GREAT, QUITE POSSIBLY! IT WILL BE ALRIGHT, IF NOTHING FAILS!"
"He is certainly cynically optimistic," Ambulon noticed. "A nice contradiction."
"I wonder why this 'event' has got him all messed up," First Aid wondered.
"Well, we have no idea what this event is, so he might know something that we don't," Ratchet told him.
"Great. Get my anxieties up," he muttered. The group kept going, with Siren obnoxiously loud voice with his 'cynical optimism' filling everybody's audio receptors with pain. They kept going until they reached the other side where an opening in the mountain was, showing off a cave.
"NOW, I HOPE NONE OF YOU ARE CLAUSTROPHOBIC, AS WE GOT TO ENTER THIS CAVE TO GET TO WHERE NEED TO GO! I KNOW, VERY CREEPY, BUT WE NEED TO ENTER TO GET TO WHERE WE NEED TO GO! WE HAVE A REALLY AWESOME FACILITY INSIDE FOR THE EVENT!" he instructed them, heading inside the cave. The whole group looked at each other nervously before following along, wondering if he was telling the truth. The group entered the place, one or two at a time due to the small size. With the four of them in the back, they had to wait a while for them to get in.
"I'm… not a fan of tight spaces," First Aid muttered.
"Get used to it," Ambulon muttered. "We're going to be here for a little while."
"I hate this," he muttered. "Why did we agree to this?"
"Interest."
"Great."
"CAREFUL AROUND THE MAGNESIUM WALLS! IT'S TIGHT!" Siren cautioned people as they were nearing the entrance.
"Well, get ready. I don't think we'll be leaving this cave system for a little while, although I'm guessing they built an underground facility here for us," Swindle told them.
"Well, that's a small comfort," First Aid muttered. "It'll still be a small place."
"Maybe, but it shouldn't be too bad," he told them.
"So you say."
"We're reaching the wall. Keep calm," Ratchet told them. Indeed, they were one pair behind the entrance. The pairing in front entered and Swindle and Ratchet paired up with the two medics behind them. They entered dark cave, illuminated by a single line of light along the ceiling that lit the place up dimly.
"HERE'S THE ENTRANCE TO THE PLACE! A BIT BULKY, BUT IT'S SOME STRONG STUFF! EXPLOSIVE RESISTANT AND RADIATION RESISTANT! THE ONLY WAY THIS IS FAILING IS WITH AGE!" Siren shouted to everyone, leaving the four in the back confused.
"Ugh, I wish they had a more spacious cave for us to enter," Ambulon complained, his left shoulder slightly rubbing against the cave wall every now and then.
"Agreed," Swindle responded, his right shoulder rubbing against the wall as well. "This is not a comfy space."
"It's kind of hard to walk through this and carry my stuff," Ratchet acknowledge.
"How long you think we'll stay here," First Aid asked nervously. "I'm already not liking this."
"At least a few days, considering that we had to bring our stuff," Swindle told him. "Shouldn't be that long."
"That might already be too much," he muttered.
"Consider this character development," Ambulon told him, uncaring.
"Good to see you care about me," First Aid muttered.
"I do. It's just- what is that? The entrance?" he asked, startled. The four look up to see this large metal entrance. The frame was a strong, metal while the actual door appeared to be a metal hatch that was pulled back into the base.
"Woah… that's an unusual entrance," First Aid mumbled.
"It's… like a vault," Swindle realized. "What if… they're protecting us?" Swindle asked the group.
"Why would someone be targeting us," Ratchet questioned him. "What do all of us have in common that we would need to be protected?"
"…Do you guys live in Iacon?" Swindle asked them.
"Yes. Eastside as does First Aid," Ambulon told him.
"I live in Eastside too," Ratchet confirmed.
"Right… I live in Eastside," Swindle told them.
"So all of these people are from Eastside?" First Aid guessed.
"It would appear that way," Swindle muttered as they reached the door. The four of them entered the entrance room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all clean steel, a wonderful reprieve from walking in the dirty metal. The steel was a cold grey with yellow highlights. On both sides was a both with a short staircase to enter them with a glass viewing area. In front of them was a door that led to another room. They entered it to find an elevator on the right, a closed room on the left and a staircase in front of them. They continued descending staircase heading further down. The group continue down the stairs until they emptied out into a big room. It was good for the large group, being a two-story big room, with them on the balcony. They could see that the line was continuing to a door where they were descending down more steps.
"How large is this place?" Ambulon asked, looking around the area.
"I don't know. Sales rep, not a building designer," he told them. "They must have it pretty big to supply all of us."
"I swear, you four keep babbling on," the bot in front of them complained, turning to them, with his red optics. He was purple-white-and-black, however, he was more black than the other two, with purple only being used as stripes for his limbs. "What do you keep talking about?"
"Quick question, you work at Iacon?" Swindle asked him.
"Yeah. I'm a cop," he told them.
"Live in Eastside?"
"Yes," he agreed, looking at them suspiciously. "How do you know that?"
"It seems that they've gather a bunch of people from Eastside and brought them here," Ratchet told him.
"You four are intuitive," he growled. "Thanks for the information. The name's Barricade." The four gave their names. "Thanks for that. It's best to work together if things go wrong here." They arrived at the next set of stairs with a label of 'ATRIUM'. They entered and descended quicker than last time and entered a large room with circular tables everywhere as well as a couple of side rooms and doors that led elsewhere.
"WELCOME ALL! THIS HERE IS THE ATRIUM! THIS CONNECTS EVERY SECTION OF THE FACILITY TOGETHER AND IS OUR MAIN MEETING POINT! WHEN IT IS TIME FOR A GROUP MEETING, WHICH WE'LL HAVE LATER, AFTER YOU CHECK YOU'RE ROOMS OUT AND TOMORROW MORNING, WE'LL MEET UP HERE!" Siren explained to the group, turning around to address. "NOW, THAT CORNER," he pointed to the one behind him on the left corner, "LEADS TO EVERYONE'S ROOM! THERE ARE FORTY OF YOU PLUS THE TEN STAFF MEMBERS. THE STAFF MEMBERS HAVE ALREADY CLAIM THEIR ROOMS, SO CLAIM YOURS RIGHT NOW! JUST GO DOWN AND TAKE A RIGHT!" The group paused as they understand what the loudmouth said before heading to the door.
"So, a facility run by a staff of ten," Ratchet muttered.
"They could use more," Ambulon muttered.
"If they plan on making us stay here for an extended amount of time, it's quite possibly that they'll have us doing some of the jobs," Barricade muttered. "They probably invited me here so I can watch people."
"Three of us are doctors," First Aid told him.
"I'm a sales rep for Vault-Tec," Swindle told him, "although I have no idea why they would want me here to help."
"Maybe for supplies," Ambulon guessed. "You can help maintain it."
"I guess." The group reached the steps, passing Siren who was watching over them with his blue optics nervously, biting his fingers nervously. The group went down the stairs where there was a branching path to a left, right, and straight ahead. The group went right and headed down to the right hall. Next was a bunch of hallways. They followed along as the group thin out entering rooms. There were doors on both sides and kept going for ten rooms before branching off left, right and straight, with rooms being on the left and right side while straight went up. The five of them went right and kept going until all five of them were left with five unclaimed rooms at the back of the hallway.
"Well, let's pick out rooms," Ratchet told them, picking the one to the left at the back of the hall. He opened it to find a nice sized room. In it was a recharge slab at the back-right corner, a cabinet and locker for tools and supplies at the back-left corner looking to the right, a desk with a computer on the left wall, and a TV of a great size at the front wall. Ratchet walked over and placed the two boxes on the berth. He opened his box of tools and looked to see all of his medical tools made the trip unscathed. With that done, he walked back out to see Barricade hanging around outside his door, the closest one to the intersection. Ratchet walked up to him and began talking.
"So, cop?" Ratchet asked.
"Yeah, been serving for 9,000 years," he told him. "I currently work in homicide. Pays well. Obviously not as good as the gilded heights the senators and all their kind live in, but it's nice enough. Plus, I get to rough up some of the crooks I get."
"Ah, so you're that kind," Ratchet muttered with disgust.
"I only do it to the truly sick ones," Barricade defended himself. "When I first started, I loved doing it, but the more you look into it, the more you realize that a lot of murderers are just desperate people who have been screwed over by a lot of people and more than a few victims were people that were worse than the murderers that killed them. It's why I really enjoy it when the murderer is a sick one that resists arrest. It basically gives me full discretion to break his limbs," he finished with a smile. "I must admit, I do enjoy hurting those that truly deserve it a little bit."
"Hmph, so that's your angle," Ratchet muttered.
"Well, let's talk about you. You're a doctor, what else?" Barricade asked him.
"Well, been a doctor for about as longs as I can remember. Must be verging on 100,000 by now. I make sure that every one of my patients live. Only got a few that died from my operating table from injuries that couldn't be heal. Every now and then, I get a patient that I would prefer dead rather than on my operating table, but I need to get paid and not get jailed for malpractice," Ratchet told him.
"Clinic or hospital?"
"Right now, I'm a clinic doctor," he told him. "It's much easier than being a hospital doctor. I'll probably be going back to a hospital in a few hundred years."
"Right… if they let us out," Barricade muttered, looking around.
"Well, that's done," Ambulon said, getting out, as well as Swindle, from their rooms.
"So, you two have been getting along," Swindle asked with a smirked to Ratchet and Barricade.
"Just some background," Ratchet told him. "We're just waiting for First Aid, right?"
"Yeah. I hope he isn't freaking out so much," Ambulon muttered.
"You guys are very calm." The group to see the person exit out of the room across from Barricade. The bot was of an orange color with yellow highlights and yellow optics.
"Well, we got an idea of what's going on," he told him.
"Huh… that's good." He paused before speaking again nervously. "So, since we're probably going to be here for a while, my name's Pyrobyte." The others gave off their name. "Well, nice to meet you. Good to see I can find people to talk to without my twin here," he muttered.
"Same-spark twin?" Ratchet asked.
"Yeah. His name is Cryobyte. You can see a theme," he told them with a chuckle, smacking his hands together before he started walking off. "I better head on out and introduce myself to a bunch of other people. Let's talk some more!" he yelled out as he walked down the hall back to the atrium.
"Well, he seems to have low self-esteem," Swindle muttered.
"Hey, guys," First Aid said, coming out. "Shall we head back up?"
"Yeah. See no reason not to," Ratchet agreed along with everyone else agreeing with him. The group began walking back to the atrium and kept chatting with each other.
"Alright, I've got the specific on Ratchet being a clinic doctor and I'm a homicide cop, so what do you guys specifically do?" Barricade asked the three others.
"I work in the hospital, with First Aid as my assistant. We specialize in surgery and ward care," Ambulon told them.
"Sales rep for the people that built this, Vault-Tec. Since we've looked around, I remember bartering with another company on that door that we used to enter the place," Swindle told them. "I heard rumors that they made a lot of these. My guess, they've been using that to supply banks and stuff to make a profit for this place."
"Makes sense," Ambulon agreed. "Where did this company come from, anyway? I never heard of them before I got that letter."
"A patient of mine said they were a technology company and has bought quite a bit of land. I'm guessing this facility is what they use the land for. They are a very esoteric group," Ratchet informed them, walking up the steps to the atrium.
"Well, I guess if we want more information, we better go talk to the one who can't talk quietly," Ambulon said, referring to the guide who brought them here.
"I wonder if he can talk normally," Swindle joked.
"I guess we'll find out." They reached the top of the stairs and entered the atrium where everyone was sitting around at tables. The group of five went to the nearest empty table and took a seat at an empty table neat the center. A little away from them, Siren was pacing back and forth, still biting his digits. He was still waiting for the last few to trickle in.
"So," Barricade started for everybody, "how big you think this place is?"
"Don't know, don't care. We'll figure out soon," Swindle told him. "Although it is certainly big."
"Yeah, I guess," he told him, "but it's still worth considering."
"Well, what would it take to run one these underground facilities?" First Aid asked. "Obviously, we need a medical area, along with a generator room of some sort to run anything."
"They'll probably want a security area of some sort, to keep the peace around here," Barricade muttered.
"Storage area for supplies," Swindle mentioned, "especially for energon."
"An entertainment place," Ambulon muttered.
"A washing place to keep our frames clean," Ratchet said.
"That's a lot of rooms," First Aid muttered. "I really hope we don't have to use anything for long."
"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY'S HERE!" Siren shouted, immediately causing them to flinch in pain. That was going to be tough to get used to. They turned to see Siren addressing the group with a box next to him. "NOW, AS A WELCOMING GIFT FOR ALL OF YOU, WE HAVE SOMETHING FOR ALL OF YOU!" He hefted the box up and brought it around to everyone. Ratchet's group waited until Siren came to them and hand one out to each of them. Ratchet looked at it. It appeared to be some sort of minicomputer that needs to be connected to something, like a wristwatch. Siren kept going, staying quiet as he gave one to everyone and went back to his spot. "NOW, THIS IS A WONDERFUL INVENTION BY VAULT-TEC: THE PIPBOT! OUR HUDS ARE VERY CAPABLE, BUT THIS MAKES THINGS BETTER! FIRST, ATTACH IT TO A WRIST OF YOUR CHOICE!" People glanced at each other before attaching it to their wrist, most of them attaching it to their left wrist. Each one were flexible and capable of stretching and collapsing to fit the user's arm. The device was already activated and waiting to be used. "OKAY, NOW YOU NEED TO CLICK THE SCREEN AND INPUT YOUR NAME IN CASE YOU LOSE IT AND WE CAN RETURN IT TO YOU!"
Everyone did so and inputted their name in, leading them to the main-menu where a variety of things they could do. "NOW, THE DEVICE ACTS AS AN AUTOMATIC MEDICAL SCANNER! IF YOU GO TO CONDITION, IT'LL SHOW YOU YOUR BODY'S HEALTH AND RADIATION AMOUNT! THAT'S REALLY IMPORTANT! YOU CAN ALSO WRITE IN A JOURNAL, UPLOAD MESSAGES TO IT, AND A MAP FOR THIS BUILDING! WE'VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS, BUT I'LL LET YOU EXAMINE THAT AT YOUR OWN TIME! FOR NOW, YOU'RE PROBABLY WONDERING WHY YOU'RE HERE? WELL, QUITE SIMPLY, MOST OF YOU WON A SPECIAL LOTTERY!" That cause some confusion as they wondered what he was talking about. "WE MADE A SPECIAL LOTTERY FOR ALL YOU THAT LIVE IN EASTSIDE! WHAT IS THIS ABOUT? WELL, YOU'LL LEARN ABOUT THAT TOMORROW! UNTIL THEN, EXPLORE THE FACILITY! AND JUST A REMINDER, MY NAME IS SIREN AND I'M THE OVERSEER HERE! TALK TO ME ABOUT ANYTHING YOU'RE CONFUSED ABOUT!" he finished, walking off to the side out of everybody's way.
"Siren is such an apt name," Ambulon muttered. "I felt like a siren embedded itself into my head."
"Well, what should we check out?" Ratchet asked the group.
"I think that we should just try to relax a little and head to the entertainment room, if they have one," First Aid recommended to them.
"Why don't you check to see if they have it on the map?" Swindle pointed out.
"Oh… yeah," First Aid muttered, looking at his Pipbot and clicked on it a few times. "Got it!" he cheered.
"Where?" Ambulon asked.
"Right above everybody's quarters," First Aid told them.
"So that's where the stairs lead," Ratchet muttered. "Makes sense. Best to keep those two close together."
"This place is really big," First Aid said in awe. "I wonder how long it took for them to build this facility."
"An amount of time," Barricade sarcastically answered, which caused him to frown.
"No need to be rude," First Aid muttered, which he replied with a shrug of indifference.
"Right," Ratchet ordered, "let's go to-" He turned his head and saw someone ask Siren a question. "Oh scrap."
"WELL-,"
XXX
"I'm glad to be away from him," Swindle muttered, rubbing the side of his head to ease his audio receptors as they made their way up the stairs to the entertainment area.
"How can anyone be so loud?" First Aid wondered as they made their way up
"Could be a dysfunctional voice-box," Ratchet answered. "Some people are created defects. His voice box is probably one."
"You would think he would fix that," Barricade muttered.
"The voice box is really hard to work on if you want to change it," Ambulon answered. "It's surrounded by many critical sections and it's hard to work around."
"He's right," Ratchet confirmed. "We don't work on it unless it's absolutely necessary, which it never is."
"It would be comfortable on the audios if you can do that, you be doing the world a service, even if you accidently kill him," Swindle muttered as they reached the room. The group took the time to examine the room. It was colored a cool blue with blue lights furnished with a TV taking up the wall on the left and a bar taking up a corner on the right side. There was stools at the bar and a couch with several seats in front of the TV with tables and chairs at the unused corner and a couple of cabinets around the area. There was few people there, a couple investigating the bar with one investigating the TV.
"Hmm, seems like a nice enough place," Ratchet muttered. "How much does this cost?"
"Well, the TV is worth a 1000 on its own, the couch is 500 with the comfortable chairs worth 200 apiece and the chairs and table in the corner are worth 500 a set. The bar is a little bit more difficult, but I'm guessing 1,200 for that with 50 a stool," Swindle counted everything up.
"You can tell all that from a glanced?" Barricade gawked at that.
"Salesmech. My job," he told them. "Anyway, this is easily over 4000 shanix."
"That's two months of my salary," Barricade grumbled.
"They don't mind paying a great amount for our comfort," Ambulon noted, the group entering the room. The two at the bar had already found the high-grade and were cheering each other as they drank it. The other one, a robot of three shades of blue and lankier than everyone else, was investigating exactly what was in the TV.
"Hey," he said to the group who looked at him oddly before someone spoke.
"Yeah?" Swindle asked.
"This TV," he turned to them, "has every TV show and movie on it. I'm not even kidding."
"Every show?" First Aid asked. "Does it have E.E.R.?"
"Yeah."
"Under the Scalpel?"
"Uh-huh."
"Headspace?"
"Yes."
This made a long series of First Aid asking TV shows and the increasing aggravated robot telling him, yes that show was on the TV. By the time it was all over, the bot was relaxing in the couch, getting ready to take a nap and the others members of the group was getting annoyed.
"You didn't tell me that your partner love to rust himself over watching TV," Ratchet murmured to Ambulon.
"That's because I didn't know he was this obsessed," Ambulon told him, surprised.
"Well, I guess they have a lot at least," First Aid told them.
"Oh, you finally stop!" the blue bot yelled in relief.
"Oh, I'm sorry for annoying you, uh…"
"Tacklebolt," he told him, exasperated. "Please be less annoying."
"Sorry," First Aid apologized. "My name is First Aid."
"Well, at least you're not getting overloaded like my friends over there," he told him, shrugging his shoulder at the drinking couple. One was black-and-yellow bot who was bigger and taller than most, looking like a tank. The other one was yellow-and-blue bot, who was almost as bulky as the one he was drink with. He was probably a supply truck.
"The blackish one is Treads and the blueish one is Tidalshock. I'll probably have to drag them back to their rooms," he murmured the last sentence.
"I… highly doubt someone of your stature could do that," First Aid told him.
"Don't worry, I'm creative," he told him, looking back at the drinking couple. "And they're touching each other again. How grand."
"Uh, what do you, oh," First Aid murmured, watching as the black one took his high-grade energon coated fingers and feeding it to the other one, was gladly accepted it and suck it. "I forgot to mention, those two are conjunx enduras with each other. They're pretty flagrant with their displays of affections."
"That's… great," First Aid muttered.
"Damn… he's deep-throating that finger," Swindle muttered as he got a device out and started recording them.
"Well, do you guys want to ignore them and watch some TV with me?" Tacklebolt asked them.
"That would be nice," Ratchet agreed, as did the rest of them, minus Swindle, who made a good excuse.
"I know people who would pay for this and I'm not letting the opportunity go to waste." With that, the group took a seat with Tacklebolt on couches and chairs.
"Now, let's watch some TV and chat until it's time to give up," Tacklebolt told them.
XXX
"Wow, can't believe window wiping can be so dangerous," First Aid muttered as Tacklebolt was done finishing a story.
"Well, now you know. Window wiping is some scary stuff," Tacklebolt said, taking a swig of energon. The group was getting used to each other and a few others had entered the room, either drinking at the bar or hanging out with the group watching TV, including Pyrobyte.
"Sounds more exciting than my job as a smelter," Pyrobyte said, taking a drink as well before continuing. "Smelting is dangerous at first, but once you get it, it's effortless. The only thing really dangerous are the gases coming from it, but it only affects organics."
"You work at a smelting bank with the name Pyrobyte? What, does your twin work at a cryobank?" Barricade derided.
"Actually, yes. Told you our names has a theme," he told them with a chuckle.
"What time is it?" one of the newcomers asked, a yellow-and-orange bot with a generic car kibble, asked.
"It's, uh, 13:57, Sunspot," First Aid answered after fumbling with his Pipbot. "Getting closer to midnight."
"Right. I'm going to my room. Have fun," he said, getting up and leaving the room, with a last word not many people heard. "I already can't wait to get out and see the sun." He exited the room without fanfare. With his exit, Swindle came over from the bar and took a sit where Sunspot was.
"Well, I've got enough footage to make me quite a bit of money," Swindle said with a grin. "I should hire those two professionally."
"That's… disgusting," Ratchet muttered.
"Hey, I make money however I can," he defended himself.
"There are standards," he growled, glaring at him.
"Hey, tonight a night to relax and have fun. Just think, is anybody else in our position, relaxing in this cool underground bunker," Pyrobyte mediated between the two.
"You say it like it's automatically a good thing," Ambulon said. "We still have no idea why we're here."
"Well, it's nice to relax from all the troubles going on up top," said a white-and-black motorcycle with orange tinges.
"Ugh, don't remind me, Lugnutz. Those idiots can't talk with each other and settle things between each other. They're probably going to destroy this world if they keep it up," Tacklebolt joked.
"Hey, it's almost midnight," First Aid said. "Just ten seconds."
"Than count us down!" Pyrobyte cheered.
"Alright, uh, five, four, three, two, one, and… midnight," First Aid said, "and nothing happen, as it should."
"Well, we sleep through it usually. Do we expect anything different this time?" Tacklebolt asked with a smile. "The world doesn't change in a moment."
"Yeah, I guess," First Aid agreed, a small smile on his face.
"Well, it's midnight. I need to go to sleep for the night," Ratchet announced, getting up. "I'm not supposed to stay up this late."
"Take care, Ratchet. I imagine we'll have some fun here," Swindle told him. I'll be down in a couple of minutes to check up on you."
"Yeah… hopefully not too much," he muttered the last bit too low for anybody to hear and exited out of the room and went down the stairs. He was coping with the whole thing pleasantly well, but he can't help but feel that something was wrong here. Why bring them to this bunker? Why them specifically? They said a lottery, but there had to be more than that. It just didn't sit right with Ratchet no matter how he looked it.
Ratchet reached the hallway and walked slowly, ready to turn in for the night, but noticed someone next to his door. Sunspot was just hanging around, looking at a datapad. "Hey, are you alright?" Ratchet asked. Sunspot jumped and stared at him in fear before cooling down, knowing that Ratchet didn't mean any harm. Ratchet looked at him with a mix of suspicion and worriment. Something has obviously got him jumped up.
"I'm fine… you next to my room?" he asked, looking at Barricade's door.
"No, I'm all the way at the end," he told him, pointing to his door. "Is everything alright?"
"Uh, well, I'm just worried about… things," he told him, looking guilty. At that, Ratchet could make a guest at what was up with him.
"Let me guess, people trying to kill you," Ratchet answered, causing his optics to nearly pop out.
"Uh, what the… how do you… are you psychic?" Sunspot asked.
"You're seriously equating me those shams?" Ratchet growled, insulted, causing Sunspot to jump at his hostile tone.
"No, no, no, it'd just… completely on point," Sunspot told him.
"Listen, I'm a clinic doctor, and I've dealt with people who were injured by attempted murderers and they all act like you: jumpy and nervous, although they had the additional effect of suffering from a bullet or knife wound," the doctor explained to him.
"Well, t-that's very perceptive," he muttered. "Look, I work at an observatory at a little bit outside Iacon on Baloka hill. We get constantly harassed from this gang that hangs around outside of Iacon. It was small at first, vandalism and trespassing, but it got a lot worse. That kept pushing and pushing until they started assaulting us and they killed a couple of people. It was just after the murder when I got the note to come to this bunker. I decided to take all of the relevant data and wait until it was time to come. Then, well, I heard that the gang was looking for me and they specifically were after my data so I had to move around until it was time for me to come and, well, here I am," Sunspot finished off his story, feeling relieve at getting that off his shoulders. Ratchet was a little surprised, but not that affected. He had heard a lot of things on the operating table and from patients.
"Well, looks like you're safe here for now. I doubt they can get through that door. It's damn near impossible to break with military explosives, and even less so considering they are just a gang. Relax, you'll be fine here… for now," Ratchet told him and that seemed to calm Sunspot down even more and put a small smile on his face.
"Yeah, thanks for that," he thanked him.
"You're welcome," Ratchet reciprocated.
"I swear, I'm worrying over-"
*Rumble!*
The place shook briefly, surprising the two. "What the frag is that?" Sunspot asked, looking around, going back to his nervous phase.
"That… was an explosion I think," Ratchet answered.
"Oh, no. I knew it. They found me and they're trying to break in," Sunspot yelled.
"No, that… was far too large for a simple gang to pull off. That was some high-grade stuff considering we could feel it from all the way down here," he debunked.
"Then… then… what was it?"
*Rumble!*
"Another one!" Sunspot yelled. "What the frag!"
"Oh, scrap!" came a voice and Swindle came crashing down the stairs. "
"Swindle?" Ratchet asked, quickly making his way over. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's just," he got up, a little bit in pain, "that second rumble catch me off guard."
"So, we're not the only one feeling it?" Sunspot asked, moving over to where the two were.
"Yeah, everybody in the room felt that and wondering what's going on," Swindle told him. "I have no idea what's going on."
"Then, how do we figure this out?" he asked.
*SCREECH!*
The three of them grasp their head in pain as the intercom started and Siren started speaking over it. "LISTEN UP! THE MEETING THAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN IS STARTING NOW! MEET UP AT THE ATRUIM!" The intercom went silent and the three release their grip in relief and wondering what was going on.
"We need to head to the atrium. Maybe he will finally fill us in on what's going on," Ratchet told them. "Let's go." The three of them quickly started heading for the atrium, with a few people exiting their room to head to the atrium as well. They quickly made themselves up the stairs and into the atrium and took a seat at the nearest table to the door. People quickly rushed in, with the group Ratchet was hanging out with join him at the table or the tables next to him. Before they knew it, everyone was there and Siren had made his way to in front of everybody and Ratchet instantly regretted picking the spot, because he was in the front row and would be feeling the full force of his voice.
"ALRIGHT, THIS WAS SUPPOSE TO TAKE PLACE LATER, BUT THE RUMBLES YOU'VE FELT HAS SPED UP THE PROCESS! NOW, CONSIDERING THE CIRCUMSTANCE, IT'S BEST TO GO AHEAD AND EXPLAIN TO YOU TWO THINGS THAT WILL NO DOUBT SURPRISE YOU AND WILL MAKE YOU FEEL… SAD, TO SAY THE LEAST!" Siren explained to everybody and Ratchet could tell, despite how loud he was, that his voice was dejected. "SO, THE TWO THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THIS! THE PLACE WE ARE IN IS A FALLOUT SHELTER AND THE RUMBLE YOU FELT WAS A NUCLEAR BOMB!"
There was a paused and everyone went into an uproar.