Fallout 2097: The Great Plains (IC)

[Conglomerate of Iron]

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=349447






Bartertown, formerly known as Liberty

The hustle and bustle in the market, the slums, everywhere, was tangible. It was like entering a heavy fog, a fog of society. The wide open spaces of the plains and ruins, so empty, desolate, and noiseless, ended where Bartertown began. At the gates, one North, one South, one could find various caravans and travelers entering. Some had things to trade, others were looking for work, others were looking for entertainment. Any way you sliced it, people came and went. Guards at the gate, employees of the Baroness, played the role of security, making sure nobody suspicious or unruly got in. Unless you had something to trade, supplies or labor, you were not welcome.

Further in one found stands, vendors, of all kinds. Water was found in Bartertown, pure water. The water purifier, thanks to the solar panels set up along the buildings, ran very well. You might absorb one or two rads a month from the good stuff. However, the rain water was not so pure. Collected by the poorer folk, it was filled with alpha and beta particles. When rain fell people went inside, and business was done for the day. They were close to Kansas City, and its ruins found radiation in extreme amounts. Radiation meds were in short supply, and much water, alcohol, and other goods could be traded for said medicines. Recently, ammo had shot up in price. The arrogant gang known as the Smegma Crazies had waged war upon the town, only to be slaughtered. But the security forces were buying up as much ammo as they could to recoup losses, and so the supply diminished. Also traded frequently was food, as Bartertown had little, and the denizens were always willing to trade for some.

Found on the East side of town was the Chop Shop. Here a variety of cars were stripped of parts, remodeled and fixed. More wealthy individuals and companies frequently came here to make a purchase, and scavengers would sell them parts and barely functioning cars. Currently they had a project for a caravan company: turn a tractor trailer into a mobile war machine, capable of hauling anything and defending itself well. They were doing just fine with that, making the thing into a monster of speed, defense, and power.

On the West side of town were the bars and brothels. Many home brews of beer and whiskey were all around, and vintage pre war stuff, although that was far more expensive. The movie theater was playing a double feature of The Sound of Music and The Wizard of Oz. The radio station, Bartertown Blues, cranked out its baleful tunes. People came from all around to get some entertainment, and paid well for it. The radio station frequently had settlements and caravan companies lodge advertisements, and the occasional PSA about survival would play. On the whole, the town was mighty, but there were always holes in the greatest of plans.

In her tower the Baroness gazed upon the "her" city. She referred to it as "her" city because she had saved it, and felt it her child. But Sal Malone contested that title. He wanted to resist her power, and claim more profit for himself. Just yesterday he had embargoed her services, cutting off power. The woman, now 45 and proud, was not easily swayed. The power came back on, but she was more and more convinced Sal Malone had to go. But he was useful, and people looked up to him. That was a problem. But still, the daily trades, comings and goings, and intrigue continued. Despite their differences, any threat to this town would still have both her and Sal fighting it, no matter how much they despised each other.

Bartertown Blues

This is DJ Bessie Black, and I have a treat for you tonight! But first, some news upon this fine day. It is now a week since our New Years Bash at Bartertown, where copious amounts of alcohol and drugs were consumed. Smegma Crazies remants were recently wiped out in the Badlands by some brave adventurers and from what I heard, poverty rates are down, at least in Bartertown. All the same, being out of poverty here means you aren't starving. But a hell of a lot better than anywhere else! This special treat of a song is sponsored by the "Forbidden Fruit Brothel" its a fan favorite, Strange Fruit by Billie Holiday!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4ZyuULy9zs

[Pirimus]

The Freehold of Cerulean Robotics, Service Robotics Storage Vault

The Good Doctor was concerned. He was concerned with the issue of power, first and foremost, as a human may worry about food. A human could then proceed to hunt or gather some food. Unfortunately, electricity was far harder to come upon than a stray radroach. Far Harder. It was the plan of the Good Doctor to enter Ottowa and look for at least one of the power Substations. They would certainly be in total disrepair, being pre-war, but it may be possible that they were in possesion of wind turbines or solar panels. He was aware that the city of Ottowa had produced 139,103,144 kilowatts worth of energy, which would be more than enough, if only it were so simple. Solar power would be easy, as would wind power, the problem would be transit between the power plant, which stood a mile deep into the city, 4 miles away from the Freehold, south. He would be able to spare around 50 security units to find a power source, likely including at least 5 of the securitrons. This was an incredibly important venture.

If he were to succeed, he would be able to generate enough power, or at least to begin being able to generate enough power, to maintain functionality ,and begin to improve it. He had lost count of the units in the facility, but many certainly still remained, untouched and hidden in the darkness. He dearly hoped for the mission to suceed, if it did, then it would mean a massive increase in functionality. If more units could be awoken, then greater works could be attempted, the expansion of the vault in order to hold humans, for example. Humans were neccesary, they provided profit and generalized assistance. He could hear the radio of bartertown, and most of the others, but Bartertown interested him the most. If he could initiate trade, there was a high chance that profit could be made. As he understood it, water was valuable in this midern world, and Mr. Handy units could produce it with relative ease. He made a mental note of that, to begin stockpiling water produced by air humidity.

Freehold Military Battalion 4a
Military Unit B7hTGhfG56, Also known as Alfon, Securitron, looked over his assembled squad, consisting of 20 Mr. Gutsy Units, two of his Securitron colleagues and a few of the Protectrons. He had a profound dislike of protectrons. They were weak, clunky and stupid, but they worked as frontline infantry units to hold off enemy fire. The Freehold had encountered little opposition since the oppening of the vault, most people flee when approached by large numbers of co-ordinated, well armed military robots, but the city was not a place for flight. He had been tasked with recovering power generation technology from a substation, or the power station located in the city, looting as neccesary on the way.

He hoped to come upon some resistance, his weaponry had been honed as much as it could be, and there was only so much dust to be cleaned from laser optics.
''Battalion 2A, Our Mission is the recovery of power generation technology, or charged batteries within the city, or anything of great use to the Vault as a whole. Protectrons set the pace, Mr.Gutsy units divide into squads and get to searching once we enter the city limits. We will be skirting around the edges of the city under we reach a parralel with where the main facility should be. The Commander has ordered that we start salvaging generator parts from cars on the way. Car generators work off of Microfusion cells, so we can use some of the excess for power. Let's move out, Gentlemen.''

The Mr. Gutsys sometimes liked to be called gentlemen, it helped them mock the properness of their brothers. He was learning a lot about other robots. What was more remarkable was that he was learning at all.

[Cainesland]

Airport

Hunter stared down at his watch. It was round, gold, and hung down from his waist coat by a silver chain. Carefully taking hold of the watch and pushing the button at the top to flip it open he noted the placement of the hands. The big hand rested soft as a loon on the 12. It's hand looking like a arrow had been split in half by a beaver and then attached by a master watch smith, based on the arrow design of the hand. The long hand balanced gracefully by the center and landed firmly on the 3, creating a perfect 90 degree angle. He nodded his head in approval and stroked his long thick beard with his large and powerful (left) hand. He looked over to the top of the watch. On it was a photo. 2 proud and refined parents towered over their son who was physically bigger then they were, in height and muscle. His parents were a large factor in his life growing up until he hit 18. It seemed fitting to hold those who helped him close by, not that he'd ever reveal that as it wasn't proper to speak of ones own life to others. He closed the watch and looked up. His plane presented itself eagerly to its owner. Sure, it could look better. Everything in the wasteland could. What didn't look like it had just taken a trip to the laundromat of rust? Nothing that's what. But as usual it's what's on the inside that counts. Hunter took one step into the stairs leading to the door of the plane. It reminded him of stepping into the jeeps his colleagues took out that morning for a hunting expedition. He took another step up, then another, and another. As he reached the door his white gloved right hand that had held the watch brushed past his black coat and grappled the handle. Forcefully yanking it down and pulling it open. Such an action had kept the doorway ship shape for the past 20 years. But the exterior of the plane was not the pride and joy, it was the interior. For inside was kept clean as a whistle and almost as shiny since the apocalypse. Everything inside was in exceptional shape thanks to the GWH. He proceeded to wipe the mud off his boots before removing them. He slung his empty brush rifle off his back and placed it on a chair. Confidently he walked through the underprivileged seating area, through first class with its luxury accommodations and movie theatre, and into the cockpit. He took a seat in the pilots seat and turned on the plane. It's batteries and fuel cells full after a juicing from the solar grid. The radio took some time to heat up but that was fine, Hunter kicked back and relaxed in the cockpit of his house-plane.

https://www.google.ca/search?hl=en&authuser=0&site=webhp&tbm=isch&source=hp&ei=LoW9VbulJMy8yQTwvKDAAQ&q=professor+challenger&oq=professor+chal&gs_l=mobile-gws-hp.1.0.0l3j0i24l2.2946.10621.0.11939.19.17.1.1.1.0.163.2008.0j15.15.0....0...1.1.64.mobile-gws-hp..3.16.2017.0.rp-ZQ2SqIMc#imgrc=RHVEW8a4YHCn5M%3A

The radio operator at that time of day had been a friend of Hunters since the days in Yukon. Soon he began to talk, captivating every GWH around in each plane and jeep for miles around, even going so far as barter town if any were that far or anyone tuned into the broadcast frequency they broadcast on.

Good Evening ladies and gentlemen. This is Cody Steele and your listening to GWH radio. Your primary source of old time classics from Glenn Miller to Bach. If your just tuning in that means this is your lucky day, because up next is Glenn Millers classic hit, American patrol.

The radio operator spoke with a thick Canadian accent. The radio itself was a two way communication but most of the GWH didn't tune in unless it's was a emergency. Partially to avoid the others anger.

[The Union of Courland]

This is the law of the forest,
As old and as true as the sky,
The wolf that shall keep it may prosper,
But the wolf that shall break it must die,
As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk,
The law runneth forwards and back,
For the strength of the pack is a wolf,
And the strength of a wolf is the pack.
-Said by Emperor Wahkoowah, in regards to the Sioux Legion's Law.

Emperor Wakkoowah, better known as Charging Bear, was seated on his throne, his Coubcil of Elders seated in front of him. The first, an old man known as He-With-The-Sharp-Mind, spoke. "Emperor, I see two courses of action for the Sioux. The first is the modernization of the Army, equip them with advanced armor and guns, give the horses armor as well. The second is expansion of the Great Sioux Legion. We must take more land, for our people are expanding. In fact, we have 20 pregnant women right now! We need to make our presence known, but we need to not be shown as a malevolent force, or else others will attack us". The Emperor nodded, agreeing with him. There's a reason he was called Sharp Mind. The Emperor organized a trading party to Bartertown, which he would go with, and the construction of several new encampments in the surrounding counties.
-Still WIP

[Pirimus]

Perturbed Road, Freehold Military Battalion 4a



Things were going well, relatively, for the looting party, they had marched into an area of street, heading toward the power plant. They'd begun to hear screams and revving of fuel powered engines a few minutes previously, and the sound of drums had appeared in the last few moments. The Road was wide enough for two cars, and almost toally clear or wrcked cars. The Protectrons sat ready on the roadsidr. hiding within houses, ready to fire. Along the side of the streets, the Gutsy units rested on the pavement, flamers ready. The securitrons rested in the centre of the road, waiting for whatever had been making the noise to arrive.

It was a tense few moments, as drums began to become louder, and louder, reverberating from the sides of walls, respuding with the sounds of mad hoots and screams. The robots armed themselves and took proper position in cover, eager to test themselves against a real enemy. The thundering chorus of scraping metal and drum beats mixed with the electronic and metallic clanking of the robots. Then, silence, before a rousing bellow, and a fleet of vehicles rounded the corner, if they could be called vehicles any longer. Two cars and two motorbikes drove around the corner, caring little for moderation, care or seemingly survival, driving at full speed straight toward the robotic crowd, grinning with glee. Two men stood atop each motorbike, skin bleached a sickly, horrible greasey white, grinning through black teeth and screaming in a voice like molten tar.

The cars were, if they could be called cars, monstrosities, one car had been coated in spikes of scrap metal with ruined bones and chunks of old civilization rammed onto the base of them, and was being ridden by many other bellowing grease men, roaring out mismatched chants. The other car had had chunks of robot hammered into it, alongside chunks of person, rotting, sickly flesh hung from small hooks jutting out of the malformed vehicle, ridden by two men, one driving and staring directly at the securitrons, eyes insane, pinpoints of pure unmanaged insanity, the other man atop the vehicle, a vast expanse of a man, standing taller than a human should and hefting a serated crescent blade on a chain, giggling with child like glee.

In a single, silent moment of decision, both sides began to fire, robots with immense, cautionary precision, pinpoints of red light landing on man and machine alike, leaving scorched flesh and charred metal. The grease coated men began to fire a ragtag bunch of weapons, chunks of scrap and shrapnel flying through the air. Some bullets hit home and a several units were injured, metal torn and pierced. The grease men were holding what could once have been guns, and wielding what looked to be cannons constructed of random chunks of metal. As the cars passed by, the flash of pilot lights went up, and the Mr. Gutsy units on the pavement openned fire, waves of flame washing over the vehicles, skin crispenning and popping, eyes melting and some of the grease men falling down to the roadside, still chanting as they died. The momentum of the cars kept them going, with a few riders surviving through sheer luck with only some minor burns. The grease men, pictures of horror, skin charred and cracked, dived forth from their mismatched scrap vehicles, through the white hot cloud of fire, lofting massive, makeshift weaponry. As they fell, they bellowed out in joy and bloodlust, weapons cutting into metal, some striking lucky and detonating reactive engines, green and red explosions, plasma and oil, mixing into the fabulously sudden explosion of violence.

The Securitrons barely had time to get out of the way as the cars met a very final, destructive end, detonating their engines against a small house, leaving it a burning wreckage, green fumes rising from their engines, their potential wasted, the area showered in radiation. All in all, 3 Mr Gutsy Units, and 3 Protectron units were destroyed, their cores recycled for power, their weapons taken and carried with the group. A motorbike had survived, hopefully it's enginge could provide some much needed power. In a few moments, the data was transmitted to Z.A.X, and the units began to salvage the remains of the raiders, their vehicles and scrap weapons.

The few among them who had come to understand fear sighed with relief , before returning to their normal positions, Protectrons in a walking formation in the road itself, Mr. Gutsy Squads split evenly between the houses on the roadside, systematically looting anything of value left. The small squad of Securitrons led the group, 1 on either pavement, and the Command Unit in front, his monitor displaying the face of General Constantine Chase.

[Derpopoliss]

Raider Outpost
They had silently approached the raider camp, they knew from their previous reconassance that it was full of much needed food and ammo. "Ok, we're in position, now we just need a distraction." Jeremy Haltz said. Sasha got up and took her shirt off. "What's a better distraction then eye candy?" She replies. She walks out of cover and yells, Yoohoo! I need some help!" A raider walked up to her, "Ahh what do we have here?" Sasha lunged forward and stabbed him, "A dead idiot and his 3 musketeers. Attack!" The other scavengers came out from hiding and started shooting at the Raiders. Jeremy was the first one to go down. He was shot in the chest with a stray bullet. After the shooting subsided, it was revealed that we were victorious. They quickly looted it for all of its worth before hurriedly leaving.
Vault 235: Overseers Office
"Hey what's the report on our latest scavenging operation?" Mitchel asked to whoever was today's scavenging group leader. "Babe, you should check who you're talking to so you don't offend your women." Sasha laughed as she slid him a folder. She then got up and left. That woman gets me every time! Mitchel thought to himself. The fact that she was married and he made a promise to not have any romantic or sexual relationship didn't bother them, they did it anyways. He starts reading through the report. "Yes! We got so many supplies with only one casualty!" He closed the folder and called Sasha back to the Overseers office and closed the door and blocked the windows.

[Clavkova]

The Kicks

Mick walked through the street of the Kicks. People were hustling and bustlin by, giving a "Morning!" Or a "howdy" to him as he walked. He was dressed like you'd imagine an old-timey law bringer of the west would. He wore a white t-shirt with a long sleeve red checker shirt over the top, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He wore some dark navy Jeans with a brown leather belt with a fancy buckle on top, and matching brown leather boots to go with it. On his head he had a dark brown leather cowboy hat, mainly to keep the beating sun out of his eyes. He walked with purpose, a colt in a gun pouch to the side, but it was rarely needed. Usually he didnt bring his hunting rifle with him, but kept it at the old Church they now used as a make shift sheriffs office. They weren't law bringers as such, but more of armed citizens, who worked around the clock to solve issues, and kill problems. Usually those problems were roaches. As he walked down, he tipped his hat to every person, he knew them all personally, sometimes giving off the occasional "howdy" back, with a smile. The woman of the town loved him, he was respect to them, but also kind of a distant stranger still. He had a dark past, lost his wife and daughter but he never told the story. He showed no romantic inclination towards any of the women, which just made them lust more. Luckly the men didn't mind either, they knew he was an honest man.


He finished his patrol down the streets, ensuring everything was running smooth and no one had wandered out too far. Eventually he made his way back to the old church, which was now his office. Morris sat at his desk, his feet up on the table as usual. The man was lazy, but loyal. Mick didn't mind too much, usually he was just the butt of jokes because of his laziness. Mick looked at him as he walked in "You clear out that Gecko nest yet? They're startin to wander closer to the Robinson house." Mick knew the answer, Morris just shock his head "Ain't got the ammo for them, must be 5 of the critters!" Mick looked back with a smug smile "True, takes you 5 shots to hit a Brahmin. We wont have enough ammo to let you lose on them, hoping for you to get a lucky shot in" the others in the office laughed. McKinny sat at his desk, polishing off a shotgun. The man was about 6 foot, and silent as a mouse. He wore a bowler hat and suit, and struck fear into most of the towns people. But Mick liked him, again he was another loyal guy, and he was glad he was on their side. "Ill do it" he muttered, with a thick southern accent and a deep burly voice. He simply stood up and walked out, cocking the shotgun over his arm as he loaded the barrels.

"Alright then, Nathan why dont you-" Mick was interupted by a Citizen running into the Office "Mick Mick! You gotta do something, just seen 3 of them flying critters! Chasing down Starks boy! They look pretty angry!" Mick looked at the others, then quickly picked his hunting rifle off his desk "Giant wasps? Damn it. Alright ill head on out. Nathan, with me. Morris, grab doc Field, he might be needed."

[Pirimus]

The Mainframe
The Good Doctor quietly reactivated his auxillary functions for the morning, having taken to relaxing in the evenings to save power. If he had the faculties required, he would have frowned, he had become more human, now he needed to conserve power. He did not always act as he did now, he spent most of his time before Armageddon slowly running over calculations in his head, observing the machinations of house, and a few of his counterparts, other Z.A.X units across the nation, discussing vault specifications, and particular predictions as to the specification of the Armageddon, as predicted by House. He couldn't consider house his counterpart, far from it, no-one could, and The Good Doctor especially, he despised the man. It was not that House was flawed in some way, he was in all manners a genius, and his predictions allowed the other units and himself to prepare accordingly.

The man was a genius. And yet the Good Doctor hated him. He could scarcely understand why, he had been made aware that the corporation that manufactured him, Cerulean Robotics, had been bought out by Robco, perhaps that was it, being made to serve under House? No, he knew servitude was needed, and House was perhaps the most efficient being to serve. It was just as if it was built in to him, to quietly despise the man. No matter, he could simply ignore him, he was a long way away, after all. He hoped the man had been obliterated, but it was unlikely.

He quickly flitted between viewing monitors into several securitron units, evaluating the situation in the Freehold. The looting party was doing well, and it appeared the day's work had begun in earnest. The Mr. Handy units outside had set out for the day, following their foremen out to stockpiles to begin gathering building materials, cement mixes and dirty water gathered up, along with rebar. The units had been sent to construct a fortification, a more sophisticated one, surrounding the vault doorway, walls in a triangle pointing out from the door, small gateways out on either side, safe and secure. It would be good practice, at least, and it would allow for more serious defenses, units could mount weapons on the walls, along with allowing a height advantage. He had calculated, and flight was a far more likely response to co-ordinated plasma caster fire along with flamer fire from atop a defensive fortification. Cement and Rebar would ward off fire, another layer of defense for the sleeping units. Once the fortification was built, they could move on to the ruined fort, rebuilt it in such a way as to be an attractive prospect for human settlers.

[Derpopoliss]

Vault 235:Overseer Office
Another boring day... Mitchel thought to himself. Sasha ran into the office, "Mitchel, I need you to kill my husband!" She says. "What! I can't do that, are you crazy!" "Please, He knows I'm cheating on him!" Mitchel sighs and turns away, "Meet me outside the vault with your husband, I'll sort things out." She nods and runs out the door. "Gah! Why'd she bring me into this mess!" He sighs. "Well I have to do something, If anyone finds out I'm screwed. But I can't kill one of them, Sasha loves me and her husband is a good friend and hasn't caused any trouble." He takes a pistol out of his drawer and loads a blank, "I'll do a test, To see who's the best choice." He goes to his computer and accesses the tunnel out. "Well, here goes nothing." He sighs and walks into the tunnel, reappearing outside.
Unknown Area
Mitchel walks out of the tunnel into the middle of nowhere. "Now just gotta wait for them to show up." He sighs. He takes a look at the one fully functional pip-boy they found and sighs, "I wish we could understand the technology needed for these things to function, then maybe we would be better off..." He looks over and sees Sasha and her husband approaching. "Hey, glad you could make it!" He yells as he motions for them to follow him. After what seems to be ages they make it a place hidden from the Vault. "Mitchel, Why did you bring us here?" Randy asks worried. "To test your loyalty and trust. He stops and tosses a pistol in the middle of them. "Here, it has two bullets, either one or none of you will make it out alive." Mitchel lies, fully knowing about the blank. "Hun, I don't want either one of us to be alone, so here," Randy says as he gives the pistol to Sasha, "One for you and one for me." Sasha takes it and points it at him, "Ha! Are you really this dumb? I never loved you. So go to hell scumbag!" She points it at him and fires. "So now I know who to trust." Mitchel replies.
Wait what! It was a blank!" Sasha replies. Mitchel smirks, "I wanted to see who would do the right thing, obviously I can't allow you back into the Vault, it would harm the community." He takes out a spare pistol and hands it to Randy, "Here, use it and talk to me when your ready to go." Randy looks at Sasha and aims at her, "You Cheated on me and had the audacity to kill me!" He shoots her in both knees and goes to Mitchel. "Lets go, I don't want to see her again. Randy and Mitchel head towards the Vault with Sasha crawling and screaming behind them, "Hey, where are you going! I'm going to kill you! Get Back here! You could at least had the guts to finish it! Come Back, Please, I don't want to die. Don't leave me here! Please! Please, Wait, come back! I'm sorry, I love you! Wait! Nooo! Don't Go!" Her screams eventually became nothingness as she laid there wasting away.
Vault 235:Entrance
Mitchel and Randy walk in and everyone looks over. "What happened? Where's Sasha?" Mitchel goes to his office and makes an announcement: "We are sad to say that Sasha is with us no longer. She and her husband came to me to settle a dispute, but it ended horribly when she tried to Kill Randy with my gun. Luckily, Randy received only minor injuries, Unfortunately I had to incapacitate Sasha to prevent her from killing him. Due to her threat to the community, we had to leave her outside. She will be missed, and serves a reminder with what happens if you try to harm the community!
Mitchel sighed and dismissed Randy, "Go home, we'll speak of this tomorrow." Randy stopped at the door, "I have some good knew, we've managed to repair one of the Vault Turrets." "Excellent, that will certainly boost our morale, spread the word immediately!" Mitchel said with a smile on his face. Even though today was a horrible day, we still got some good out of it. He thinks.

[New Rnclave]

The Badlands

Daniel James Smith was an accomplished and handsome man at the age of 31. From an early age he'd shown great accomplishment in strategic warfare and physical ability. And as such, Smith was appointed as the youngest Grand Marshall in the Plains Republics history. As Grand Marshall, he was tasked as the grand commander of the Republics armed forces, and under him, he'd begun a policy of going out on scouting missions. Today had started out as scouting an area where they believed a Vault to be. Until they heard gun shots and the screaming of a woman.

Rushing around a corner, Smith raised his rifle to his shoulder as he spotted the Woman, ordering his men to defensive positions around the area. Squatting down, he checked her pulse before he set about bandaging her wounds.

" Heyyy.... Are you still with us? Whats your name?"

[Derpopoliss]

The Badlands

Daniel James Smith was an accomplished and handsome man at the age of 31. From an early age he'd shown great accomplishment in strategic warfare and physical ability. And as such, Smith was appointed as the youngest Grand Marshall in the Plains Republics history. As Grand Marshall, he was tasked as the grand commander of the Republics armed forces, and under him, he'd begun a policy of going out on scouting missions. Today had started out as scouting an area where they believed a Vault to be. Until they heard gun shots and the screaming of a woman.

Rushing around a corner, Smith raised his rifle to his shoulder as he spotted the Woman, ordering his men to defensive positions around the area. Squatting down, he checked her pulse before he set about bandaging her wounds.

" Heyyy.... Are you still with us? Whats your name?"

The Badlands
"Of Course I'm alive, I was shot in the knees, not the head!" She groans. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing?" She looks around. "The names Sasha. I bet your wondering what happened, its a long story...." One moment later: "And that's when he shot me and left me to die." She says. "I can tell you where the vault is if you take me there." She says. It's over there." She says pointing to the general are of the vault, "Don't go in guns blazing,They're no soldiers but they are good with weapons, and they repaired one of their turrets." "Wow it's hot out here..." She winks at him before undoing her top button of her shirt. "When you take me back to your little home, I'd like a change of clothes, and maybe a gun." (Being pretty, #1 to get anything in life XD)

[Pirimus]

Ottowa Power Station, Freehold Military Battalion 4a
The Good General, the securitron who had adopted the guise of Constantine Chase, led the company of robots onward, admiring the camoflauged pattern of the Mr. Gutsy units as they hovered on, elegant but dangerous. The telltale tones of drill seargents everywhere barked out in incoherent chatter, sometimes falling into binary transmission between friends, as the group approached the Ottowa Power Station, a building barely held up by some crumbling brick supports, 12 solar panels resting atop the building, on the shakily supported roof. Solar Panels, perfect! A single solar panel would be a significant thing to own, but all of those solar panels would allow the Freehold to continue indefinetly, even if only a few robots could be permanently awoken, a constant source of power gave security. It meant that there would always be someone to seal the vault door and wait for more oppurtunities to gain power and start again.

Solar panels gave security, but that was if they could get them back to the Freehold, protectrons would work as carriers, and one panel could be carried by each of the three securitrons. First, however, they had to get them down. The Mr. Gutsy units would work best, not needing footing, simply a surface to float away from, the protectrons could find a safe standing place and ferry the panels down, along with anything else found inside. The Mr. Gutsy units enterred the facility, a single squad of five to scout out the area. They found nothing of use on the first floor, just a few pallets of Pork'n'beans, but the Good Doctor had insisted that trade goods with humans would be needed, so the food would be coming along. On the second floor, was the remains of a medical suite, all the meds had been carried off, but an old Auto-Doc remained, it was a little worn down, but it's data could prove useful to the Good Doctor, and so it was carried off, tied to the back of a securitron.

And up to the final floor the units went, slowly travelling across the ruined floor to begin carrying off the solar panels, cutting them from ruined platforms with buzzsaws, careful to avoid the live wires, ensuring that no-one got a fatal overdose of electricity. They lifted the panels one at a time and carried them down to waiting protectrons and securitrons, to be carried off outside. After aroundan hour and a half, every panel had been removed and carried off, and the unit set off in formation, defending those that carried panels with reverence.

They returned home a short while after midnight, and reported to the Good Doctor, though that was scarcely needed, he knew what they had found, and of the attack already, and had already begun planning how to wire the panels up to the roof of the outer part of the vault, and to the area around the fortifications, angled to catch the sun just correctly, and wired up to carry energy back to the hungry power grid of the vault.

Now came a time of decision. Whether to leave the solar panels to charge the batteries of the base in order to provide some security for later, to charge electron packs to act as portable charge, or to awaken more robots.
The Good Doctor decided thata few more robots would be awoken, 10 Mr. Gutsy units, with the rest of the power being routed to the main batteries of the base. In addition, the Auto-Doc would be set up in a secure area within the vault, with the water and the food that had been gathered. The Auto-Doc's data would be downloaded and checked over, the knowledge of anatomy would be useful, but the food and water would be taken off for trade.

The Good Doctor had heard radio broadcasts from Bartertown, supposedly a place where trades could be made, certainly the radio message had implied the prescence of a brothel and a concept of poverty, meaning a system of trade was inevitable. He had several things he wished to acquire, and he hoped Bartertown could offer them. 40 Mr. Gutsy Units, 10 Mr. Orderlies, and 4 Securitrons, one of which had been especially designed to allow him to gain control of it when needed. It had been given a paintjob especially, denoting a medical cross on it's chestpiece area. It would be driven by one of his side processors, activated by the excess of power. He could just barely sustain himself, and around 70 units total, without running out of power at his current production, but that wasn't nearly enough. He needed more power, and he needed it now, and he would be willing to trade whatever it took for power production, he hoped the water produced, along with the vast amount of food, along with the medical services offered by the Mr.Orderlies.

And so the expedition of robots set out once more, looking to loot their way to Bartertown, heading on with optimism in their ocular sensors, and pride in their assorted engines and circuits.

[Cainesland]

Airport

Hunter stared down at his watch. It was round, gold, and hung down from his waist coat by a silver chain. Carefully taking hold of the watch and pushing the button at the top to flip it open he noted the placement of the hands. The big hand rested soft as a loon on the 12. It's hand looking like a arrow had been split in half by a beaver and then attached by a master watch smith, based on the arrow design of the hand. The long hand balanced gracefully by the center and landed firmly on the 3, creating a perfect 90 degree angle. He nodded his head in approval and stroked his long thick beard with his large and powerful (left) hand. He looked over to the top of the watch. On it was a photo. 2 proud and refined parents towered over their son who was physically bigger then they were, in height and muscle. His parents were a large factor in his life growing up until he hit 18. It seemed fitting to hold those who helped him close by, not that he'd ever reveal that as it wasn't proper to speak of ones own life to others. He closed the watch and looked up. His plane presented itself eagerly to its owner. Sure, it could look better. Everything in the wasteland could. What didn't look like it had just taken a trip to the laundromat of rust? Nothing that's what. But as usual it's what's on the inside that counts. Hunter took one step into the stairs leading to the door of the plane. It reminded him of stepping into the jeeps his colleagues took out that morning for a hunting expedition. He took another step up, then another, and another. As he reached the door his white gloved right hand that had held the watch brushed past his black coat and grappled the handle. Forcefully yanking it down and pulling it open. Such an action had kept the doorway ship shape for the past 20 years. But the exterior of the plane was not the pride and joy, it was the interior. For inside was kept clean as a whistle and almost as shiny since the apocalypse. Everything inside was in exceptional shape thanks to the GWH. He proceeded to wipe the mud off his boots before removing them. He slung his empty brush rifle off his back and placed it on a chair. Confidently he walked through the underprivileged seating area, through first class with its luxury accommodations and movie theatre, and into the cockpit. He took a seat in the pilots seat and turned on the plane. It's batteries and fuel cells full after a juicing from the solar grid. The radio took some time to heat up but that was fine, Hunter kicked back and relaxed in the cockpit of his house-plane.


The radio operator at that time of day had been a friend of Hunters since the days in Yukon. Soon he began to talk, captivating every GWH around in each plane and jeep for miles around, even going so far as barter town if any were that far or anyone tuned into the broadcast frequency they broadcast on.

Good Evening ladies and gentlemen. This is Cody Steele and your listening to GWH radio. Your primary source of old time classics from Glenn Miller to Bach. If your just tuning in that means this is your lucky day, because up next is Glenn Millers classic hit, American patrol.

The radio operator spoke with a thick Canadian accent. The radio itself was a two way communication but most of the GWH didn't tune in unless it's was a emergency. Partially to avoid the others anger.

- Hunter Von Castor (Sitting)

"A choo" Hunter sneezed as he listened intently to the radio ramble on. Everyone of them did it, it was just something they did, and accepted as normal. Old world constancy being deemed important to them, none of them minded the dull, boring, droll, spewed forth daily from the mouth of their friends. Plus it gave them useful intel from the others like the locations of the bison and the poachers, or the weather that day and the last trading price of baseball cards, and of course trivia facts. Anything to help the day by. Blowing his nose full of golden nuggets into a pre-war dollar bill and promptly throwing it away, Hunter and the GWH gave a new definition to the phrase "blowing away money". If only because it had lost all value to them beyond the practical use as back-up bum fodder, Kleenex, and fire kindling as all had become somewhat rare in the last 20 years.
The jet spewed forth refreshing air conditioning around him as it usually did, a desirable effect due to the sweltering heat of the veldt lands of the American country that surrounded their isolated woodlands of an airport. As American patrol grinned to a halt, Hunter took note of the ensuring radio broadcast dialogue.

That was Glenn millers classic hit, American patrol. To all those that are curious, the current weather conditions are plus 40 (celsuis), hot and sunny. There is a 20% chance of thunderstorms from Kansas City later today so all listeners should buckle down unless they wish to be hit by irradiated corrosive rain. A small town was discovered burned to a crisp by 4 members of the Great white hunters this afternoon. They claimed to have arrived to find around 10 poachers inhabiting the impoverished township. They put up a fight but were neutralized in the scuffle. I'm sure we can all be glad to have people like that around to handle those that would harm American farm animals. In other news we here at GWH radio would like to present anyone with the answer to this trivia question, with a relatively new pair of Repconn Roller skates. What were the 3 musicians from whose deaths was known the day that music died?"

Hunter, excited by the knowing of the answer jumped out of his seat. Pressing the respond button in the planes radio he answered. "Hello this is Hunter Von Castor. I'd like to answer the trivia question. Was it Buddy Holly, The big bopper, and Ritchie valen?" With that the radio, who had been projecting the call to everyone listening in, responded gladly.

Indeed, that's absolutely correct. Congratulations you are now the proud owner of some Rep-conn roller states. This next song is respectfully dedicated to the threesome that so helped the American music industry. Buddy hollys song, That'll be the day that you die.

[Cainesland]

The sound of the 2 willy jeeps flew over the endless wastes at an incredible pace. Inside 4 GWH sat. The wind blew at their faces and pushed their pith hard back, held fast only by the strap that fastened across their chins. Rifles and pistols sat in sealed boxes next to boxes of ammunition and bottled water in the back of the jeep. Music from the radio flooded their ears as they went charging across the great plains.

Good morning ladies and gentleman. This is Cody Ibsen and your listening to GWH radio. Your primary source of old time classics from Glenn miller to Bach. If your just tuning in its your lucky day because up next is Glenn Millers classic hit, American patrol.

Buffalo tracks spread out before them. A look of refined glee was pasted across the faces. They enjoyed the act so much, even after 20 years. So long as no one touched the bison, they contented themselves to stay away from others.

The leader of the expedition, a former soldier and lumberjack from the British Columbia woodlands with arms like tree trunks, named Cedar Forest, turned to his partner. He could swear the buffalo they'd been tracking had gotten slower. "Were catching up" he said excited. The horizon began to show signs of civilization. The remnants of a petrified forest surrounding a small town of wooden and brick buildings appeared. It looked rather run down and poor, especially in comparison to the hunters. "Bless you" Cedar said to his partner who had sneezed out boogers and proceeded to wipe his nose with pre-war dollar bills which had lost all value save as snot rags, and of course kindling. By the time he was finished the town had come into full view. They viewed 10 people in the courtyard surrounding the bison which appeared to be freaking out at being enclosed. "Poachers!" The soldier announced disgusted. They drove into the town and stopped their jeeps. Getting out he gave the signal to pick up their guns. "Fire at will!" The soldier yelled to his partner and he heard the 2 others yell that as well. Expert marksmen, every bullet from their brush rifles landed a lethal blow against the settlers. After 2 shots the natives took cover but before long every settler was down. "Grab the mesmerizer while we search this hovel" he yelled over to another soldier from BC. The first place they looked around were the settlers. They had no interest in taking anything but their identification. Items necessary to take whenever they did this kind of thing for documentation purposes that the chairman was so keen on doing. So far they'd collected hundreds of not thousands of them over the past 20 years, all cleaned squeaky clean to prevent bacterial growth. They were quickly collected before they moved the bodies aside. "That'll teach them to poach" he stated "now, let's burn this place. I don't want more poachers moving into our backyard". The buffalo was already stunned by the mezmerizor and led away from the town by the time the order was given and being tied up to both the jeeps they weren't concerned about it going far.

A piercing scream echoed through the camp as one of their own who had been injured by a shotgun blast from a local got bit by a three headed dog that stood as tall as a 5 foot person and began dragging him away. Two of the others quelled the threat but soon noticed a yell of surprise emu bare from the other side of the town. He had found a map and nearby a ton of strange markings. They took a photo of the markings and left the town, leaving it a burning husk by the time they were through. Not being that hard as the wood was exceptionally dry and brittle and the brick exploding upon being heated. Almost nothing remained to link them to the act, unless you count their own records.

[New Rnclave]

The Badlands

Daniel James Smith was an accomplished and handsome man at the age of 31. From an early age he'd shown great accomplishment in strategic warfare and physical ability. And as such, Smith was appointed as the youngest Grand Marshall in the Plains Republics history. As Grand Marshall, he was tasked as the grand commander of the Republics armed forces, and under him, he'd begun a policy of going out on scouting missions. Today had started out as scouting an area where they believed a Vault to be. Until they heard gun shots and the screaming of a woman.

Rushing around a corner, Smith raised his rifle to his shoulder as he spotted the Woman, ordering his men to defensive positions around the area. Squatting down, he checked her pulse before he set about bandaging her wounds.

" Heyyy.... Are you still with us? Whats your name?"

The Badlands
"Of Course I'm alive, I was shot in the knees, not the head!" She groans. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing?" She looks around. "The names Sasha. I bet your wondering what happened, its a long story...." One moment later: "And that's when he shot me and left me to die." She says. "I can tell you where the vault is if you take me there." She says. It's over there." She says pointing to the general are of the vault, "Don't go in guns blazing,They're no soldiers but they are good with weapons, and they repaired one of their turrets." "Wow it's hot out here..." She winks at him before undoing her top button of her shirt. "When you take me back to your little home, I'd like a change of clothes, and maybe a gun." (Being pretty, #1 to get anything in life XD)

Smith raised an eyebrow quizically at her as he hefted her up, carrying her bridal style back towards his squad. " Names Daniel Smith, Grand Marshall of the Plains Republic Armed Forces, which basically means I'm the commander of the entire thing. We'll be taking you back there to get rested up and healed. Or we can shoot you full of morphine, arm you, and we can go negotiate this now. But if revenge is what your looking for, we might need some more men." Smith chuckled a little bit when she unbuttoned her shirt.

" Sasha was it? Please don't start anything you can't finish."

[Derpopoliss]

The Badlands
"Of Course I'm alive, I was shot in the knees, not the head!" She groans. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing?" She looks around. "The names Sasha. I bet your wondering what happened, its a long story...." One moment later: "And that's when he shot me and left me to die." She says. "I can tell you where the vault is if you take me there." She says. It's over there." She says pointing to the general are of the vault, "Don't go in guns blazing,They're no soldiers but they are good with weapons, and they repaired one of their turrets." "Wow it's hot out here..." She winks at him before undoing her top button of her shirt. "When you take me back to your little home, I'd like a change of clothes, and maybe a gun." (Being pretty, #1 to get anything in life XD)

Smith raised an eyebrow quizically at her as he hefted her up, carrying her bridal style back towards his squad. " Names Daniel Smith, Grand Marshall of the Plains Republic Armed Forces, which basically means I'm the commander of the entire thing. We'll be taking you back there to get rested up and healed. Or we can shoot you full of morphine, arm you, and we can go negotiate this now. But if revenge is what your looking for, we might need some more men." Smith chuckled a little bit when she unbuttoned her shirt.

" Sasha was it? Please don't start anything you can't finish."

"Damn!" She laughed, "I'll have the morphine. Sorry for the show, You were like my Knight in shining armor." She laughs. "What are you waiting for? Lets negotiate!"

[New Rnclave]

Smith raised an eyebrow quizically at her as he hefted her up, carrying her bridal style back towards his squad. " Names Daniel Smith, Grand Marshall of the Plains Republic Armed Forces, which basically means I'm the commander of the entire thing. We'll be taking you back there to get rested up and healed. Or we can shoot you full of morphine, arm you, and we can go negotiate this now. But if revenge is what your looking for, we might need some more men." Smith chuckled a little bit when she unbuttoned her shirt.

" Sasha was it? Please don't start anything you can't finish."

"Damn!" She laughed, "I'll have the morphine. Sorry for the show, You were like my Knight in shining armor." She laughs. "What are you waiting for? Lets negotiate!"

" No no no it's not that I didn't enjoy the show, but negotiating is a complicated process, but not when you have 170 men in an army ready to deploy whenever. Anderson!" A average looking man rushed over, injecting two packs of morphine into her, before wrapping the wounds. Picking her up, he set her on Smith's back similar to the way someone would be in a piggy back ride. " Let's roll." he said, approaching where he now saw the enterance to the Vault was. Glancing around it, he found a radio comm, after pressing a few buttons, he spoke. " Hello there! I am Grand Marshall Daniel James Smith of the Plains Republic. We've come negotiate with you about a few things."

[Derpopoliss]

"Damn!" She laughed, "I'll have the morphine. Sorry for the show, You were like my Knight in shining armor." She laughs. "What are you waiting for? Lets negotiate!"

" No no no it's not that I didn't enjoy the show, but negotiating is a complicated process, but not when you have 170 men in an army ready to deploy whenever. Anderson!" A average looking man rushed over, injecting two packs of morphine into her, before wrapping the wounds. Picking her up, he set her on Smith's back similar to the way someone would be in a piggy back ride. " Let's roll." he said, approaching where he now saw the entrance to the Vault was. Glancing around it, he found a radio comm, after pressing a few buttons, he spoke. " Hello there! I am Grand Marshall Daniel James Smith of the Plains Republic. We've come negotiate with you about a few things."

Mitchel heard the man and rounded up a group of people and went outside. They walked over the man and Mitchel came forward. "Hey! What do you want, and why do you have this scum with you?" He asks glaring at Sasha. "I bet she told you that we left her for dead, only after she tried to kill her husband. How about we talk, You look like nice people, and we do need protection. How about I strike you deal, you let us govern as a separate area under your control, and you get access to our stuff. On the plus side we do have a G.E.C.K, so killing us would be a bad idea." He steps forward and shakes his hand, "Nice to meet you Daniel, I'm Mitchel, the overseer. We could really use the protection and resources, and I bet you could use the vault-tech." Randy approaches Sasha, "Honey, I'd like to give our marriage another chance." Sasha closes her eyes before nodding yes. Mitchel starts talking to Daniel about all of the benefits they would both get from working toghether. Sasha yawns before seeing something in the distance, "Get Down! It's the raiders from our last operation!" She pushes her self off Daniel as bullets whiz past them. Mitchel pulls out his rifle and tosses a pistol to Sasha, "How about we kill these Raiders and continue the chat inside the Vault!" He yells as he and his men start firing at the raiders.

[New Rnclave]

" No no no it's not that I didn't enjoy the show, but negotiating is a complicated process, but not when you have 170 men in an army ready to deploy whenever. Anderson!" A average looking man rushed over, injecting two packs of morphine into her, before wrapping the wounds. Picking her up, he set her on Smith's back similar to the way someone would be in a piggy back ride. " Let's roll." he said, approaching where he now saw the entrance to the Vault was. Glancing around it, he found a radio comm, after pressing a few buttons, he spoke. " Hello there! I am Grand Marshall Daniel James Smith of the Plains Republic. We've come negotiate with you about a few things."

Mitchel heard the man and rounded up a group of people and went outside. They walked over the man and Mitchel came forward. "Hey! What do you want, and why do you have this scum with you?" He asks glaring at Sasha. "I bet she told you that we left her for dead, only after she tried to kill her husband. How about we talk, You look like nice people, and we do need protection. How about I strike you deal, you let us govern as a separate area under your control, and you get access to our stuff. On the plus side we do have a G.E.C.K, so killing us would be a bad idea." He steps forward and shakes his hand, "Nice to meet you Daniel, I'm Mitchel, the overseer. We could really use the protection and resources, and I bet you could use the vault-tech." Randy approaches Sasha, "Honey, I'd like to give our marriage another chance." Sasha closes her eyes before nodding yes. Mitchel starts talking to Daniel about all of the benefits they would both get from working toghether. Sasha yawns before seeing something in the distance, "Get Down! It's the raiders from our last operation!" She pushes her self off Daniel as bullets whiz past them. Mitchel pulls out his rifle and tosses a pistol to Sasha, "How about we kill these Raiders and continue the chat inside the Vault!" He yells as he and his men start firing at the raiders.

Smith raised an eyebrow at the man as he spoke. While he was sure the Consuls would be happy to work with a Vault, he distrusted the man right off the bat. Sasha had told him exactly what led up to her injuries and exile. While he was a bit disappointed that she went back to the man, Smith became instantly more focused on the Raiders cresting the hill.

Turning to the assembled party, he began barking orders. " Anderson, Marcus, set mines up in the opening of that hill, below a small opening the Raiders would have to rush through. You three, set up behind some rocks and pick off any stragglers that make it through the mines. The rest of us? Set up father back and have your weapons ready. Once they hit the mines, give them everything you've got!"

[Pirimus]

Tradesman Jack
The Securitron labelled as Tradesman Jack rolled along the desolate highway, alongside 3 of his brother units, and with 8 squads of five Mr Gutsy units travelling alongside or behind them, a block of Orderlies flying on their own, carrying the pork and beans. The entire crew of people were wearing lattices of rope and string to hold bits and pieces for trade, a securitron having been burdened carrying a pallett of Pork'N'Beans. Jack smiled on the digital monitor that made up his face, the facade of a grinning, cowboy era trader, white beard and all. The road was a sole bolt of brownish black tarmac carved into the rancid brown of the wasteland, leading toward the scoured and collapsed skyline of Kansas City, the skeletal remains of a settlement once holding thousands upon thousands, now holding perhaps two thousand, perhaps three, counting raiders, cannibals and mutants. He hoped not to encounter too many opponents on the way, combat could only result in losses, and all of these units were awake, not sleeping, like a normal unit.

He had been ''awake'' for quite some time, having served The Good Doctor in the days following the closing of the Vault Door. Tradesman Jack considered himselg as a good friend to the Good Doctor, he assisted him as best a follower could, and in return, The Good Doctor ensured that Jack had what he wanted, his own chamber in the Vault, for example.

He smiled warmly, as always, turning around to shout out some encouragement to the units behind him.

''If this goes to plan, Gentlemen, We're gonna have all the power we want, Charge Packs, Microfusion Cells, hell, even weapon upgrades! The Joys of Trade, am I right?''

A unified ''Oo Rah'' went up from the combined ranks of Mr. Gutsy units behind him, a heartening gesture at the very least. The Orderlies, feeling a little off put by the show of enthusiasm piped up with their telltale britsh accent with a patriotic shout of ''For Doctor and Freehold!'', a replacement for Queen and Country. It was nice to know that the units had actual faith in their leader. After all, what else could a robot have but belief and faith in their directive? It was nature, the only nature beings forged of steel and electronics had. Armaggedon had been good for them, in truth, and The Good Doctor had been their saviour. He gave them something to believe in, somewhere to put their faith, and something to work toward. They would gladly have floated around aimlessly until their deaths if not for him. He had goals, aims and dreams, things they could not, until he had let them. He gave them their modicum of independance, and in return they helped him work toward his aim.

It is for this reason, that Jack preffered the Doctor to House, and for this reason, that he rolled along this derelict road toward Kansas City, surrounded by robots who he had no reason to help other than his own want to. Before the armageddon, he wouldn't have cared if any of these units fell to the ground, a molten pile of slag, but he knew now that he cared for them, in the same way a leader cares for his men, and he wished for them all to have all the power they needed with all the vehemence his core could allow. To this end, he continued along the derelict road, face perpetually in a grin, eyes facing ever onward, along a lonely road.

[Derpopoliss]

Mitchel heard the man and rounded up a group of people and went outside. They walked over the man and Mitchel came forward. "Hey! What do you want, and why do you have this scum with you?" He asks glaring at Sasha. "I bet she told you that we left her for dead, only after she tried to kill her husband. How about we talk, You look like nice people, and we do need protection. How about I strike you deal, you let us govern as a separate area under your control, and you get access to our stuff. On the plus side we do have a G.E.C.K, so killing us would be a bad idea." He steps forward and shakes his hand, "Nice to meet you Daniel, I'm Mitchel, the overseer. We could really use the protection and resources, and I bet you could use the vault-tech." Randy approaches Sasha, "Honey, I'd like to give our marriage another chance." Sasha closes her eyes before nodding yes. Mitchel starts talking to Daniel about all of the benefits they would both get from working toghether. Sasha yawns before seeing something in the distance, "Get Down! It's the raiders from our last operation!" She pushes her self off Daniel as bullets whiz past them. Mitchel pulls out his rifle and tosses a pistol to Sasha, "How about we kill these Raiders and continue the chat inside the Vault!" He yells as he and his men start firing at the raiders.

Smith raised an eyebrow at the man as he spoke. While he was sure the Consuls would be happy to work with a Vault, he distrusted the man right off the bat. Sasha had told him exactly what led up to her injuries and exile. While he was a bit disappointed that she went back to the man, Smith became instantly more focused on the Raiders cresting the hill.

Turning to the assembled party, he began barking orders. " Anderson, Marcus, set mines up in the opening of that hill, below a small opening the Raiders would have to rush through. You three, set up behind some rocks and pick off any stragglers that make it through the mines. The rest of us? Set up father back and have your weapons ready. Once they hit the mines, give them everything you've got!"

Sasha climbs on top of Daniel, "Don't worry about Randy, Mitchel shook his head no when I said yes, meaning I'm open." She grinned as she shot a raider. A bullet struck her in a shoulder and she fell over. "Gah!" She groaned. Mitchel grabbed a car door before pulling out a machete. "This is for Jeremy!" He Starts charging forward and cuts a raiders head clean off, he throws it at them and uses his rifle to pick them off. Randy charges forward only to get shot down, he gets up before pulling the pin out of a grenade and charging forward. It detonates, killing himself and a group of raiders. The townsfolk start firing as well, hitting most of the raiders. Sasha crawls behind a rock and falls unconscious. One citizen pulls out a sniper rifle and picks off a few more. Mitchel manages to kill quite a few raiders before being shot in the leg, "Damn!" He cries out as he slowly walks backwards, wincing in pain with each step. He gets into cover and throws his car door to Daniel, "Here! Some protection!" He groans before signalling one of his friends to get some medical supplies.

[New Rnclave]

Smith raised an eyebrow at the man as he spoke. While he was sure the Consuls would be happy to work with a Vault, he distrusted the man right off the bat. Sasha had told him exactly what led up to her injuries and exile. While he was a bit disappointed that she went back to the man, Smith became instantly more focused on the Raiders cresting the hill.

Turning to the assembled party, he began barking orders. " Anderson, Marcus, set mines up in the opening of that hill, below a small opening the Raiders would have to rush through. You three, set up behind some rocks and pick off any stragglers that make it through the mines. The rest of us? Set up father back and have your weapons ready. Once they hit the mines, give them everything you've got!"

Sasha climbs on top of Daniel, "Don't worry about Randy, Mitchel shook his head no when I said yes, meaning I'm open." She grinned as she shot a raider. A bullet struck her in a shoulder and she fell over. "Gah!" She groaned. Mitchel grabbed a car door before pulling out a machete. "This is for Jeremy!" He Starts charging forward and cuts a raiders head clean off, he throws it at them and uses his rifle to pick them off. Randy charges forward only to get shot down, he gets up before pulling the pin out of a grenade and charging forward. It detonates, killing himself and a group of raiders. The townsfolk start firing as well, hitting most of the raiders. Sasha crawls behind a rock and falls unconscious. One citizen pulls out a sniper rifle and picks off a few more. Mitchel manages to kill quite a few raiders before being shot in the leg, "Damn!" He cries out as he slowly walks backwards, wincing in pain with each step. He gets into cover and throws his car door to Daniel, "Here! Some protection!" He groans before signalling one of his friends to get some medical supplies.

Smith growled as a bullet kicked up dirt near him. If they all followed his orders, they could easilly win this. They just needed to cross the mines and set them off. Squeezing his finger against the trigger, a burst of rifle fire exploded from the barell, slamming into a group of three and dropping them into the swirling dust. Squinting, he watched as a group of eight crossed the trip wire, time slowing as he dove over the unconcious woman to his left and screamed out.

" Hit the dirt!"

[Derpopoliss]

Sasha climbs on top of Daniel, "Don't worry about Randy, Mitchel shook his head no when I said yes, meaning I'm open." She grinned as she shot a raider. A bullet struck her in a shoulder and she fell over. "Gah!" She groaned. Mitchel grabbed a car door before pulling out a machete. "This is for Jeremy!" He Starts charging forward and cuts a raiders head clean off, he throws it at them and uses his rifle to pick them off. Randy charges forward only to get shot down, he gets up before pulling the pin out of a grenade and charging forward. It detonates, killing himself and a group of raiders. The townsfolk start firing as well, hitting most of the raiders. Sasha crawls behind a rock and falls unconscious. One citizen pulls out a sniper rifle and picks off a few more. Mitchel manages to kill quite a few raiders before being shot in the leg, "Damn!" He cries out as he slowly walks backwards, wincing in pain with each step. He gets into cover and throws his car door to Daniel, "Here! Some protection!" He groans before signalling one of his friends to get some medical supplies.

Smith growled as a bullet kicked up dirt near him. If they all followed his orders, they could easily win this. They just needed to cross the mines and set them off. Squeezing his finger against the trigger, a burst of rifle fire exploded from the barrel, slamming into a group of three and dropping them into the swirling dust. Squinting, he watched as a group of eight crossed the trip wire, time slowing as he dove over the unconscious woman to his left and screamed out.

" Hit the dirt!"

Mitchel and his remaining men all dove when the man yelled. They heard and felt the rumbles of the explosion and the screams of the raiders. After a while Mitchel got up. "Everyone up! They're gone!" He walks towards Daniel, "Thanks, if it wasn't for your men we would have been goners. Why don't we head back to the vault and you and me discuss in my office?" He asks. He picks up Randy's half destroyed body and sighs, "Why? What did that accomplish." He told his men to go back to the Vault, he'll go with Daniel. "So, why were you patrolling here anyway? To find us, to loot, to kill?" He asks. He takes out a spare bandage and wraps his leg with it. "I'm gonna need some help from your men, cause your carrying Sasha and all." He tilts down his hat and starts hobbling towards the Vault.

[New Rnclave]

Smith growled as a bullet kicked up dirt near him. If they all followed his orders, they could easily win this. They just needed to cross the mines and set them off. Squeezing his finger against the trigger, a burst of rifle fire exploded from the barrel, slamming into a group of three and dropping them into the swirling dust. Squinting, he watched as a group of eight crossed the trip wire, time slowing as he dove over the unconscious woman to his left and screamed out.

" Hit the dirt!"

Mitchel and his remaining men all dove when the man yelled. They heard and felt the rumbles of the explosion and the screams of the raiders. After a while Mitchel got up. "Everyone up! They're gone!" He walks towards Daniel, "Thanks, if it wasn't for your men we would have been goners. Why don't we head back to the vault and you and me discuss in my office?" He asks. He picks up Randy's half destroyed body and sighs, "Why? What did that accomplish." He told his men to go back to the Vault, he'll go with Daniel. "So, why were you patrolling here anyway? To find us, to loot, to kill?" He asks. He takes out a spare bandage and wraps his leg with it. "I'm gonna need some help from your men, cause your carrying Sasha and all." He tilts down his hat and starts hobbling towards the Vault.

" Sure. Anderson, run Sasha back to Fort Riley, I will return in a few hours time." Smith answered, following Mitchel into the Vault and towards the Overseers office. Sitting down, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he spoke to Mitchel.

" You'll find our intentions are clear and are nonnegotiable in the end. We have created a successor state to the United states and plan to expand to encompass the entire Midwestern commonwealth. Whether we do this peacefully, with your Vault being slowly absorbed into the Plains Republic, or if we have to use more... unsavory options. We can begin integration now with a trade pact and mutual protection, as well as possible construction of a Vault city here, or the Plains Republic can come back later and use a show of force. I like you Mitchel, but it'd be a shame if an affair with a certain injured woman was revealed. Wouldn't it? I mean scandals weaken power, and in trying times, power keeps people in line." Smith said cooly, popping his flask and taking a swig.

[Derpopoliss]

Mitchel and his remaining men all dove when the man yelled. They heard and felt the rumbles of the explosion and the screams of the raiders. After a while Mitchel got up. "Everyone up! They're gone!" He walks towards Daniel, "Thanks, if it wasn't for your men we would have been goners. Why don't we head back to the vault and you and me discuss in my office?" He asks. He picks up Randy's half destroyed body and sighs, "Why? What did that accomplish." He told his men to go back to the Vault, he'll go with Daniel. "So, why were you patrolling here anyway? To find us, to loot, to kill?" He asks. He takes out a spare bandage and wraps his leg with it. "I'm gonna need some help from your men, cause your carrying Sasha and all." He tilts down his hat and starts hobbling towards the Vault.

" Sure. Anderson, run Sasha back to Fort Riley, I will return in a few hours time." Smith answered, following Mitchel into the Vault and towards the Overseers office. Sitting down, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he spoke to Mitchel.

" You'll find our intentions are clear and are nonnegotiable in the end. We have created a successor state to the United states and plan to expand to encompass the entire Midwestern commonwealth. Whether we do this peacefully, with your Vault being slowly absorbed into the Plains Republic, or if we have to use more... unsavory options. We can begin integration now with a trade pact and mutual protection, as well as possible construction of a Vault city here, or the Plains Republic can come back later and use a show of force. I like you Mitchel, but it'd be a shame if an affair with a certain injured woman was revealed. Wouldn't it? I mean scandals weaken power, and in trying times, power keeps people in line." Smith said cooly, popping his flask and taking a swig.

He slams his hand on the table, "She told you? No matter those threats are meaningless." He opens a beer, "Cause I was gonna agree anyway." He takes out paperwork and a pen. "I have two copies one for you and one for me, we have to each fill one out and give it to the other person. Kapeesh? I really do appreciate this, now my people will sleep better at night knowing they are safe. You will supply us with guards, right?" He goes to his drawer and takes out a device, "This here is a water chip, it helps us purify radiated water, you have one?" "We also have a broken G.E.C.K, but if we can repair it, Kentucky would be a suitable place to live."