Community:Fanfiction/Fallout: Tales from the Haddon War

Fallout: Tales from the Haddon War is a Fanfic written by KitMaelstrom, detailing the experiences of numerous Haddon War veterans, written from an in universe perspective as after-action reports are filed.

Chapter 1: Steel Behemoths
[''The following is a transcription of the interrogation of a survivor of the Battle of Trench Line-78, known informally among army units as the Scar. Access is prohibited to those under clearance level "GARL", and can and will be punished by imprisonment.'']

Interrogator: Hello, Nicole.

Nicole: Hi? If you don't mind, could you kindly tell me why the fuck I'm being held here?

Interrogator: You know why you are here.

Nicole: No. No, I really have no clue whatsoever. Would you be so polite as to fill me in?

Interrogator: You were at The Scar.

[''At this, Nicole's face falls, her aggressive attitude instantly gone. For several seconds, she remains silent, only talking upon further prompting from the interrogator.''].

Nicole: Yeah? So what if I was?

Interrogator: We have very little information on that particular engagement. The purpose of this investigation is to determine the reason why the Californians broke our lines.

[''Nicole falls silent again, apparently pondering the statement. Following this, she raises her head, a look of weary resignation on her face.'']

Nicole: If I tell you, will you release me from this situation?

Interrogator: Of course.

Nicole: Well, I suppose that someone should know the story. If it helps...

[Sighs somewhat sadly.]

Nicole: We had been deployed to the south, from Trench Line-92...or Line-93. Wasn't like I bothered to learn the name of the hole in the ground that I was living in. NCR forces had been steadily pushing up for the past couple of months. The Scar had taken somewhat heavy casualties, and my unit was sent to replace those losses. Wasn't a pretty situation, but we supposed that it could be worse.

Interrogator: What were you doing at the time of the engagement?

Nicole: Cleaning my rifle. Trench warfare broke down even the most sturdy of equipment. Between battles, I was almost constantly wiping dirt away from the bolt, applying new oil, and, if I had the time, adjusting the weighting and the sights. Recently, I had acquired a nice scope for it, really light, well sighted, could be mounted easily. I had to trade a couple of ration packs for it, but it was worth it. I think that I had been fiddling with the mount and the sighting when I heard the alarm go off.

Interrogator: What happened then?

Nicole: What do you think that I did? I stopped my tinkering, shoved a fresh clip into the mag, loaded the mag, and ran to the dugout. For once, I was glad that the army had issued me a bolt-action instead of an AR. In the conditions that I was in, having a weapon that required less maintenance was a lifesaver. I reached the dugout, peered through the scope, and saw...nothing.

Interrogator: Nothing?

Nicole: Well, nothing might be a bit of an exaggeration. What I mean was that with the wall of smoke that had somehow sprung up in front of the trench, I couldn't make out a damned thing. All across the line, I saw people doing the same thing that I was, looking through scopes, iron sights, or just pointing their weapon in the general direction of the grey wall. For a moment, it seemed that the smoke had just appeared, was just taunting us. Still, I kept my finger over the trigger, and my eye to the scope. Still, it seemed like there was nothing...and then I heard the engines.

Interrogator: Engines?

Nicole: Yep, engines. A deep, reverberating rumble just echoing through the plains. I heard murmurs behind me, discussion as to what they could be. As for me, I just kept my eyes on the smoke. And amidst the gray, I saw...red. I didn't hesitate. I fired. But the lights didn't fade. And the sound of engines kept rumbling, getting ever closer, as more lights appeared among the smoke.

Interrogator: What happened next?

Nicole: Well, shortly after, they rolled into view, these giant forms of steel, moving along on tracks that churned the ground beneath them.