Fallout: Horizon of War RP (IC|FACTION|Sponsored)

[Confederation of imperial states]

"War. War never changes.
Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything: from God to justice to simple, psychotic rage.

In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation.

But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history. For man had succeeded in destroying the world - but war, war never changes."

---

Link to OOC

[Tysoania]

General Booker Perkins shivered a bit and pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked towards the Bunker. The Bunker, like Fort Independence in which it lay, was a rebuilt prewar installation, although it seemed to have been a storage depot. Luckily, the first survivors to stumble upon the Bunker's well-stocked stores of food and equipment, 200 years after it had been hidden from the Fort by a collapsed passage, had been supporters of the Indianapolis Minutemen. Now, the Fort was Indianapolis' Minuteman headquarters, with the Bunker as its offices.

After the Great War, survivors had entered the ruins of the newly-built prewar base in search of supplies. Despite it being an important supply center, it had been picked clean of military equipment by deserting soldiers, and was not of any importance to the more powerful groups, such as the Brotherhood of Steel. Indeed, the only reason it had been rebuilt was that the local militia, later known as the Indianapolis Minutemen, needed a secure base of operations. When the Bunker was located, it provided the necessary supplies to rebuild the local area and expand their hold over the local area.

That had been 20 years ago. The Indianapolis Minutemen now controlled the lands between Indianapolis and Lafayette, and were a powerful influence in the nearby counties. They even numbered enough to station a permanent garrison in Lafayette, 1,000 volunteers under the command of Col. Nora Franklin, while there were another 1,000 troops under Col. Elroy Perkins protecting the farms between Lafayette and Indianapolis. The remaining 3,000 troops were stationed at Fort Independence, policing Indianapolis or on leave somewhere in the territory.

As Gen. Perkins walked into the Bunker, the two guards at the door saluted smartly, their laser muskets cleaned to gleaming. Inside the bunker, the large command room into which the door opened was full of officers working on who knew what. The small radio set had been so swamped with messages that the General had finally assigned a permanent operator to it a month ago; it didn't seem to be making a difference. The General strode through the room to a storage closet on the far end. The room had been recently converted to a command room; it was where the daily orders were issued. He walked in, then glanced around the room. Seated at the small table in the middle of the room were 3 officers; Col. Nora Franklin, on her last day at the Fort before heading back to Lafayette; Col. Elroy Perkins; and Col. Harvey Piper, the local commander in Indianapolis. They had clearly just stopped an argument.

"Report, please."

Piper looked at his fellow colonels, then turned to the General.

"We've gotten some reports on new developments to the north and the east. We have no idea what the threat is, but traders are coming back to us saying that Chicago is a no-go area for Minutemen."

The General groaned. "So we have no actual threat."

"Not exactly. We know that-"

Col. Perkins cut Piper off. "My troops are already assembled for an expedition to find and determine the severity of the threat o the north, in Chicago. All we need is authorization and supplies from the Lafayette garrison".

The General guessed that Franklin had denied Perkins the supplies. She confirmed this. "We don't have enough supplies built up to last through a crop failure. If you take the supplies, the civvies starve."

The General did some quick calculations, then issued his orders. "Perkins, you can take 500 of your troops with you. We need the rest guarding the food. You will not be taking any supplies; the prewar map says that there is a lot of towns on the way to Chicago; scav in those." The troops in Perkins' units had been assigned there specifically because they did not have families back home, so they would not complain about being sent away. Indeed, some would probably look forward to it as a chance to find some better equipment.

Perkins opened his mouth to complain, but the General cut him off. "No arguments. If you're still here by noon, i'm rescinding my permission. Dismissed".

By 11:30, Perkins' troops had begun to assemble in preparation for the march.

[Confederation of imperial states]

Brotherhood Fortified Metro Station, Chicago

The Sentinel Walked down the stairs of the Fortified Metro building above, into the tunnels below. Around him, Midwestern Military personal, logistical and Support, running up and down the stairs. The Sentinel's Armor was Heavy, though over time he'd learned to manage the large exoskeleton of the Power Armor. As he reached the bottom, he walked, 2 Initiates forming behind him as Guardsmen incase anything were to happen.

"Give me a status" his Voice uttered from the Helmet's Radio Comms, The Initiate answered.

"The Current forces are fortifying the north for the Calcatron's next assault sir. You've already been briefed that Elder Branston wants to see you".

"I need you two to form up to the building above. We're on High Alert, and the Elder and I are gonna need to know if we're calling in our reserves", The Two nodded, "yes Sir". The Initiate recruits quickly prodded off in their Heavy Combat Armor, carrying their rifles with them.

The Sentinel reached the Fortified Door of the Metro's War Room, quickly inputting the code, he watched as the large handle turned, and the door opened.

The Sentinel entered, And as he did, the Elder turned his head slightly as he looked down at the War Table.

"Sentinel, Glad you can make it",

"I came as soon as I got word something Eastwards was happening" The Sentinel walked around to the other side, the loud, Exoskeletal steps slightly shook the room. As he reached the other side of the table, he looked down at the holographic projection, exactly what the elder was watching. "What is it sir?", he saw 3 green squares, along a long line, with a red arrow moving towards it. "Sentinel, early this morning, our usual Vertibird Patrols got warning on their Electromagnetic Radars, that some sort of forced, armed with Laser Weaponry was marching towards our Eastern Border. The Eastern Chicago Border.

"So...An Invasion, by who? Super Mutants, Tech Raiders?",

"we don't know precisely, but as soon as I heard, I had the Fort Garrison in the East Fortify the towns. Currently they're waiting on Overwatch, for whatever force is coming".

"Number sir, If I May?",

"50 Paladins, 70 Knights, and 200 Initiates. Along with some Howitzers, and a few Vertibirds and APCs that were in the Garrison".

The Sentinel shook his head, "well at least we've got the Homefront and technological advantage. May I ask what are my orders?".

The Elder stood up, "I'm dispatching you to the North. The West has calmed down from the Super Mutant Horde remnants, but currently they're still on Alert. The recent development with this, 'Calcatron', has made me unnerved. A Robotic Army, is incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. Right now I need you to head up there and meet the Paladin Commander, Paladin Sarah Lyons".

The Sentinel nodded, "of Course Sir.",

"Dismissed Sentinel, and Good Luck. Alert me on Any Developments".

As the Sentinel walked out, the Door closing behind him, as the Elder continue to watch the Green and Red Markings on the Hologram.

"Never a Dull Moment...." he muttered, shaking his head.

[Tysoania]

The road sign was hard to read, but Col. Perkins could make out "Roselawn". Hm. That put him closer to Chicago than he thought.

His troops were currently sprawled across the prewar Red Rocket station, with some standing guard while others slept or chatted in the shade of the station's overhead canopy, still standing some 200 years later. But Perkins was too worried to sleep.

Some of his officers had reported to him that the advance scouts had seen a vertibird in the distance, and that fortifications had been spotted near the suburban area outside of Chicago. That meant that the rumor of occupants of Chicago was true; furthermore, it meant that they were either raider or Brotherhood. Either one could be dangerous.

However, the officer in him refused to back down. He would find and neutralize the threat. The colonel considered his options for advancing. He could march down the main road and hope that the fortifications were non-existent or that the troops there were demoralized; he could lead his troops through the woods to bypass them, butt he didn't know if the wilderness entered Chicago or not, and there could be deathclaws; or, he could take the elevated highway, which would be more dangerous if there actually was a vertibird, but it would have a vantage point over the ground.

Perkins decided to use the highway. He had noted an exit ramp a half mile back; they would simply head back to the ramp and get on the highway there. But first, the troops needed some more rest and food. One day of scavving in Roselawn would do the trick; it was close enough that they could even split up while they were there, and some could sleep at the Red Rocket while the others were busy scavving.

[Confederation of imperial states]

The road sign was hard to read, but Col. Perkins could make out "Roselawn". Hm. That put him closer to Chicago than he thought.

His troops were currently sprawled across the prewar Red Rocket station, with some standing guard while others slept or chatted in the shade of the station's overhead canopy, still standing some 200 years later. But Perkins was too worried to sleep.

Some of his officers had reported to him that the advance scouts had seen a vertibird in the distance, and that fortifications had been spotted near the suburban area outside of Chicago. That meant that the rumor of occupants of Chicago was true; furthermore, it meant that they were either raider or Brotherhood. Either one could be dangerous.

However, the officer in him refused to back down. He would find and neutralize the threat. The colonel considered his options for advancing. He could march down the main road and hope that the fortifications were non-existent or that the troops there were demoralized; he could lead his troops through the woods to bypass them, butt he didn't know if the wilderness entered Chicago or not, and there could be deathclaws; or, he could take the elevated highway, which would be more dangerous if there actually was a vertibird, but it would have a vantage point over the ground.

Perkins decided to use the highway. He had noted an exit ramp a half mile back; they would simply head back to the ramp and get on the highway there. But first, the troops needed some more rest and food. One day of scavving in Roselawn would do the trick; it was close enough that they could even split up while they were there, and some could sleep at the Red Rocket while the others were busy scavving.

Calcument City, Brotherhood Eastern Border

"Sir, We've spotted oncoming troops around the Red Rocket, a few miles from here!" One of the men, rushing into the Paladin's bunker said.

"Are the men ready?" The Paladin asked, putting on his helmet, and readying his rifle. "Yes Sir, Everyone's at their fortifications on the Brotherhood side Shore. "Good" the Paladin said, picking up his Gauss Rifle "I want you to hold Fire, unless I give an order, or they open fire" he said. "Yes Sir!" the Initiate answered, hurrying out, his Heavy Combat Armor clanking as he did. The Paladin exited the room of the Bunker he was in, quickly stepping up the steps, back onto the surface, he found himself on one of the bottom layers of a Riverside. On the, former Commonwealth, now Brotherhood Territory, Illinois side, the Brotherhood forces were in their usual fortifications. Though now, with the presence of possible enemy Military, they'v armored up the usual, Anti - Raider/Mutant defenses up with more Sandbags, metal, and gun emplacements.

The Paladin walked over to the large stone steps built into the wall, he stepped, a few Initiates and a Knight running up and down to their stations. The Paladin stepped out of the Stairwell, on the top, exiting, he walked to the main road, and the fortified Brotherhood side of the bridge. "Knight, I want a Status report" he barked, the Knight at one of the Road Fortifications looking back. "No Traders or Scavs have come up the road sir. Neither have the Enemy Troops, we're maintaining our position unless otherwise". "Good. Don't fire, I wanna see who's coming after us" The Paladin said, walking up to the large, metal Barricade, peering out a firing hole, just right of the now locked gate.

"My bet is it's Tech Raiders, they usually have Laser Weapons" an Initiate said, to which the Knight responded "In a group of more than a hundred? Rellings did you get High on Jet?".

"Either they'll get off the Highway Ramp, and come to us, or They'll head north, and hit the Northern Brotherhood Placement" The Knight said, placing his Anti - Material rifle in a firing hole, aiming down the scope.

"They're not even 10 miles out from us, and they'll obviously see the lights. We've just gotta wait" Paladin said, gazing down the Bridge, the Oncoming force in the distance.

[Pacific Brotherhood of Steel]

- THE ENCLAVE -

---

---

Detroit
Augustus Autumn

---

Augustus sat at his desk over looking the city of Detroit. What was once a ruined city of savages and mutants was now a bustling metropolis that worked to ever push The Enclave forward. It brought a smile to his face to see what they had accomplished in such a relatively small amount of time.

Below foundries grinded back to life producing anything the Enclave wished. From the smallest bullet to even power armor, anything could be made here. All because of the hard work of true American Patriots.

Augustus read over reports on his desk of the several small term success' of The Enclave. In Vancouver more and more money continued to flow into the treasury as the foreigners from the east and the Alaskans to the north relied on Vancouver as a major rest stop which then made Vancouver a major trade hub. Even the NCR to the south was forced to do its trading in the north in Vancouver, though no one new that Vancouver was aligned with the Enclave. Not even Vancouver did. Augustus loved the puppet goverment that had setup. It had done wonders for them.

In Wisconsin recent skirmishes with that pseudo-crusader force had went quite well for the forces garrisoned there. The attacking troops had been drawn into a trap outside of a small village where they were slaughtered in crossfire. Their arms and armor were salvaged and would provide major resources to make new suits of armor as it was rather hard to come across some of the required materials.

In Thunder Bay... by God. They had done it. Ever since the Enclave revealed itself on the west coast they had been working on it. And now they had done it. This would prove disastrous for those raiders from around Thunder Bay and the Teutons if they were to ever attack in full force. Though it would be trivial to supply the armaments for them, the only place that could produce then was Detroit as of now. They would have to stockpile heavily at Thunder Bay. Augustus smirked. He loved it when a plan comes together.

Even with the crippling defeats the Enclave had been handed over the past years they would never be snuffed out. The NCR couldn't wipe them out. The Brotherhood barely held their own in DC. And the NUS only won because of their massive numbers and the weariness of the troops that had already been at war for months when they attacked. The Enclave was on the rise once more, like a phoenix rising from its ashes, so too would the Enclave. Nothing could stop the true government of America and Autumn would make sure of that.

Reports from the south were also interesting as well. The mysterious army of robots that had popped up one day was pulling the Brotherhood apart piece by piece in Chicago. From what the reconnaissance team had photographed the robots were stripping towns as they moved furthering their war effort and soon they would overrun the Brotherhood. Now while that seemed a good thing at face value if the Brotherhood were to fall then nothing would be able to stop this marauding horde of robots, not even the Enclave at full military muster.

It seemed as if Augustus would have to reach out to support the Brotherhood to assist them if the situation continued to deteriorate. While it pained him to consider helping those who had before assisted in crushing the Enclave's plan to reunite America, he would have to in such an event. Such was the ways of war in the wasteland. Rivalries and grudges fade just as soon as they appear. If you want to survive in the hell is wastes, one has to adapt.

[Parzal]

A sudden flash and loud boom was all the Mayor of Littlewood, Joseph Henry, could remember before being knocked out by a hard punch in the back of the head. He had been sitting in his office going over some documents and drinking a cold glass of whiskey before he heard what sounded like screaming and gun fire outside his office, he had gotten up to grab his gun he had hidden underneath his desk when he saw the flash and heard the boom, afterwards he got knocked out.

After waking up, Henry tried to move but found himself tied to a chair, when he opened his eyes he found a light was shining in them, and quickly shut them.

"Would ya look at that boys? He's awake" He heard an unknown voice say, the sentence was so full of spite that it caused him to shiver.
Henry slowly opened his eyes again, giving them time to adjust to the bright light before he could finally see his surrounding's. He was in a dark room, The walls, floor, and ceiling all appeared to be made of stone, with blood splatters on the walls and floor. Beside him was a medical tray with an assortment of medical instruments laying on it. His heart skipped a beat when he say this. In front of him was a large lamp, directed at his face, along with a door on the front wall, and two guards on both sides of it, wearing power armor with a cross painted on the chest pieces, both wielding flamethrowers.

Joseph was about to speak, but before he could he saw a man step out of the darkness, the man wore a beige trench coat, similar to the one a detective would wear. His hair was black, short, and very messy, like he hasn't properly bathed himself in months. He was holding a bible, he also had a lit cigar in his mouth.

"You know, I wasn't always a believer" The Mystery Man said as he grabbed a chair that had been out of Joseph's view, before proceeding to sit down in it.

"I had lived with my parents on a farm, way out in the wasteland, I would usually just help around, feeding the animals, tending the crops, it was the same old routine, every day...until the Teutonic Order came. It was in the middle of the night, I had just settled into bed, my father was out doing some last minute work...it wasn't long until I heard gun shots, and the sound of my father's dying screams. My mother came and took me down into the basement. We stayed down there for what felt like forever, until they finally kicked the basement door down. My mother tried to protect me but she was gunned down. The Teutonic Order proceeded to take me and raise me. I learned that my parents had been weak, and that only through God can we find the strength to protect ourselves, and those we love...are you a believer, Mr. Joseph?" The man put both of his hands in his trench coat pockets.

"Uh, I-I'm sorry, I'm afraid no-BANG!

Joseph slumped over in his chair as blood gushed from a fresh bullet wound on his forehead. The Mysterious man proceeded to put a smoking .44 Revolver back in one of his coat pockets

"...Filthy heathens..."

He got up and looked at both of the guards, grinning.

"Burn his body then dump whatever's left into a lake"

Both guards saluted the man before walking over to the now dead Joseph, aiming their flamethrowers at his corpse, and burning his body until there was nothing but bone with a few pieces of burnt flesh. All the while the man stood in the corner...and smiled.

[Grand Adruvain]

A brief history of the New United States of America
The New United States of America had grown from her humble origins in the trading hub of New Philadelphia in 2150. From her humble debut in 2150, she began her expansion into New Jersey and Pennsylvania, gaining centers of Industry, and areas still fertile to grow crops for her growing population. By 2275, one hundred and twenty five years of Union, she had grown her might in the region, traded with settlements and factions away from Her borders, and conducted diplomacy under the old Star Spangled Banner, but she still could not amount to the glory of the Pre-war United States, but in away, it has in the Post-Apocalyptic world. One day however, fate favored the plucky new Republic. In 2277, news had arrived that in the ruins of Washington D.C, two factions were fighting, the 'chivalrous' Brotherhood of Steel, who had sent many Ghouls as Refugees to the New United States, saying they shot at them just because they thought they will harm the humans of the waste, and Enclave, the mysterious, but known Genocid Group who rivaled the New United States for true heir to the United States, either way, the NUSA took this oppurtunity to reclaim the old Federal Capital, and mobilized nearly 10,000 men, 4,560 Regular Infantry and Artillerymen, and the rest as Militia and Draftees. Prior to the invasion, the NUSA offered both groups the option of standing down and allowing for a peaceful annextion, the BoS would be allowed to continue scavenging for Technology, and the Enclave could leave Washington with full Military honors. Both turned down the Offer. So, the NUSA launched the 'Capitol War' and began the gambit to reclaim the former American capital. At first, it appeared that even with this massive Numerical Superiority would fail and the President-in-Office considered withdrawl, but then a miracle happened. New American soldiers had captured a 19 year old, who was reknowned to being called the 'Lone Wanderer' when asked for orders, Major-General at the time, Robert Dearborn told them 'to hang them for High Treason'. With the loss of the Wanderer, the Brotherhood Morale collapsed, and after advancing to insight of the Citadel, and after a brief Artillery Bombardment, the Brothrthood garrison surrendered, and like the Lone Wanderer, Elder Lyons was hung in the Courtyard, as the NUS flag was flown and the 'Star Spangled Banner' played. After the fall of the Citadel, the NUSA turned it into its command center in The Capital Wasteland, and using intel from the Brotherhood's Scout Logs, began an adsault on Raven Rock, blowing down it's Vault-Like door after a 5 hour Artillery bombardment, and after that, a rush if nearly 1,000 Federal Soldiers, equipted with Pulse Grenades confinscated from the Citadel, massacring the Enclave Forces inside. Afterwards, General Dearborn was the first to enter 'President' Eden's lair to begin negotiating the Enclave Surrender, which Eden continuously refused, and after an hour, Dearborn, angered by the continuous denying, fired at point blank range, a 44. Magnum at point blank range, destroying the AI President. The remaining Brotherhood and Enclave forces either surrendered, or fled the areas of NUS control in mass droves, leaving the occupying army to pacify the Capitol Wasteland, but slowly, by destroying Vault 87 after firing confiscated from the Enclave and Brotherhood, destroying the Vats of FEV and all the Mutants. After the Capital War, the ever land hungry nation turned it's eyes South, and after forcing a skirmish with a tribe in Richmond, began a vicous war, the Atlantic campaigned, named after being to conquer the Eastern Seaboard. It took nearly 5 years and 1,000 dead Americans and 5,000 dead tribals before the port of Savannah flew the Star Spangled Banner, but it was all worth it, being given access to valuble trade routes, population centers and Industry centers. So goes the history of the New United States till now, under the Presidency of William Hodgehen, and Armies guided by Robert Dearborn, Victor of the Capitol and Atlantic Campaign.

[Tysoania]

The Minutemen troops had just begun to head along the elevated highway when the soldiers at the front stopped. From his spot in the center of the formation, the colonel could see the officers at the front having a heated discussion. Suddenly, he saw one of them shout an order to the nearest soldiers and they dropped to the ground. The soldiers behind followed their example and soon, the entire group was on their stomachs on the ground, except the colonel and a few confused soldiers. Cursing quietly, the colonel jogged over to the little huddle the front-line officers were holding.

"What in the hell is going on?" the colonel hissed quietly at the highest-ranking one, a major.

"The two leading officers spotted some fortifications ahead. Blocking the highway; they're on the ground as well. Looks like they're well armed; could be Brotherhood", the major explained. Without any directions or a threat, some of the soldiers began to pick themselves up off the ground.

The colonel thought for a moment. "Alright. You and the lieutenant, take a flag and head over to the fortifications. Maybe they're not hostile. The rest of you, get your men together; we're falling back down the highway a bit. 300 yards should be good. Make sure your men are ready for combat". The remaining lieutenants nodded and headed back to their various groups. The colonel watched as the major and the lieutenant headed off down the highway, blue Minutemen flag raised high and combat rifles slung across their shoulders.

[Nieblham]

Father looked at all the research and data the different scientist of the institute have placed on his desk. He was looking at the Bioscience research on new GMO crops. The lab results looked promising and the cafeteria had already started using them. But they needed to be tested above ground. In the radiation filled landscape that was the Commonwealth. He knew that they would not want any help from the institute. He called the Robotics head "Do you think we could replace some settlers? I want these new GMOs to be tested above ground and a synth could do just that?"
"Sure we'll build a couple of synths and give them the seeds and allow them to begin testing, we'll just need to capture someone. I'll talk to SRB. We'll get it done."
Father smiled and returned to look at the other data sets.

[Tysoania]

Major Mann got to half a mile from the fortifications and stopped. Lieutenant Lukowski had halted a few feet behind her and was kneeling, scrounging through his satchel for the binos. Finding them, he offered them to the major. Planting the flag in a pile of debris, she took the binos and peered at the defences. On the ground below, she could see Power Armored troops in position behind their concrete and stone walls and trenches. Ahead on the highway, the major noted the presence of yet more defensive positions, but she couldn't see if there were troops behind them. She looked down at the ground defenses again. Someone had noticed them and now troops were scrambling to take cover and get to firing position. She ducked behind the crumbling highway divider; the lieutenant was already flat on his stomach. Ahead, the barricades hadn't changed; there wasn't any movement on the walls. Maybe they hadn't been spotted by the sentries yet? Or the guards had firing holes built into the walls; it was hard to tell from this distance. Either way, she resolved to keep moving forward, albeit slowly. Remaining hunched over, she walked, picked up the flag from its position, and crossed over to the other side of the highway, where it was harder for the ground troops to fire at them. The lieutenant did the same, and they started walking forward again, rifles ready for action.

[Jordkloden]

The Palace, The Pitt

Midea sat in (what once was) Ashur's office. For the past 20 years, she had governed The Pitt, essentially as a dictator. In lieu of the lack of democracy, the former slaves of The Pitt really didn't know or care much about democracy. They just wanted a safe, stable place to live. And they got that. Midea, however, could never get the bad taste out of her mouth.
After talking it over extensively with her advisors on how to implement democracy without creating a power vacuum and politically fragmenting The Pitt, they decide on a new system. Upon Midea's death, an election will be held, the winner of this election will have a distinct title, and will serve in their office until death. In this treaty of sorts they also added a clause that stated more and more democratic processes are to be rolled out with each passing leader.
The following day, Midea announced the new plans.
"People of The Pitt," Midea called out to the mass below, "For two, long, arduous decades, I have ruled over this society." The crowd cheered for their matriarch. When they were done, Midea started again, "Thank you. But, of course, I cannot rule forever. So, when I pass on from this world, the people will have a direct choice for their leader. *pause* That's right, we will hold an election for who shall rule The Pitt! And they shall be dubbed......Steel-Lord.
The crowd went wild and began chanting,

"Steel-Lady!"
"Steel-Lady!"
"Steel-Lady!"

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Mobile, Alabama

---

President Thomas Banner wheeled back and forth in his rocking chair, looking out into the vast fields of his plantation from his mansion's front porch. He had a glass of ice cold lemonade his hand to keep the sweltering summer sun at bay and a mouthful of chewing tobacco to satisfy his nicotine cravings. Banner watched the hideously disfigured ghouls slave away- quite literally- in the massive fields of cotton. Cotton was what the Confederacy thrived on- that and the other cash crops. Although Thomas had looked for it from the start of his Confederacy, he had only found samples of it from Vault 72. A few years later fields of cotton were ripening from Louisiana to Alabama, and not long after came indigo, rice, corn and tobacco. That last plant, while rare, was the life-blood of the nation. Though cotton helped to sustain, the mass amounts of resources traded for even a handful of tobacco kept the CSA's economy running, especially now that cigarettes were becoming scarce.

That said, everything was hard to grow. Only particular spots, like this plantation on the outskirts of Mobile, could sustain crops, and even then it took constant and diligent care to maintain them. Thomas was stirred from his thoughts by the sudden blare of a gunshot as a shotgun tore off the head of a ghoul who had decided to take a break and rest. The other irradiated mutants jumped; Banner didn't even flinch. He was used to the brutal killing of ghouls by now. Glancing at the overseer who had decapitated him, Thomas spat a thin line of tobacco juice at him. "That was one of our better workers. Next time just shoot one of their limbs off," he growled, taking a sip of lemonade before sticking another wad of tobacco.

"Yessir!" the jittery, butternut-clad soldier replied, straightening and holding his shotgun in raised position. The President squinted past the soldier and into the glare of the sun, towards a lone rider who was rapidly approaching the plantation. The overseer whirled around, and the ghouls straightened up, abandoning their work. Their guards took no notice, themselves walking away and towards the rider. This was atypical. Clutching at both arms of his rocking chair Thomas attempted to raise his obese body up, failing. The man beside him, who'd been silent for a long time, bent over and helped his President up. "Thank you, Allen," Banner said, snatching his long, gilded walking stick and leaning on it at the edge of the porch. Allen Pinkerton stood beside him, ever watchful of the man he was charged to protect.

The rider swung off his mutated, tumorous horse just before the plantation, his boots sending up clouds of dust. The metal spurs clicked with each heavy step. The rider was young with a curly, styled beard. His grey liveried uniform was immaculate, the golden hip sash dangling at his side next to a long, curved cavalry sword, its shiny metal hilt broad and expensive and the black sheath embossed with gold. No expense had been spared on this man; clearly he was of some importance. Walking up to the president without fear or hesitation, he saluted and then pulled out a ream of paper. Clearing his throat, he proceeded to read a letter:
"Mr. President, I am pleased to inform you that my forces are marching through Alabama. We have already secured the cities of Enterprise, Greenville and Selma and are approaching Montgomery. We have overcome local resistance without effort, even incorporating several cities peacefully. Of note, we have captured a cannery we believe to hold valuable if contaminated stores rations for the army, as well as several caches of pre-war machinery which I believe to may interest you and have sent to you, to arrive shortly after this courier.
Long live the Confederacy!
-General Beauregard Smith."

The courier finished and looked up at the President solemnly, pocketing the paper. The soldiers had crowded around and listened to the message, the ghouls behind them, and all now looked up at their leader. Removing his planter's hat to reveal a full head of wispy white hair, Thomas thrust into the air. "Long live the Confederacy!"

[Tysoania]

The major got to within 50 feet of the massive barricade. Lieutenant Lukowski stood nervously behind her, blue Minuteman flag fluttering in the breeze. Major Mann took a deep breath. If there were hostiles on the far side of the barricade, she and the lieutenant would be dead very shortly.

"Hello?" she shouted at the wall. "I'm Major Mann of the Indianapolis Minutemen! Anyone home?"

They waited for a response.

[Tysoania]

General Perkins read over the latest reports with interest. Reports were coming in from traders that the lands in the southern wastelands had been reorganized. He didn't think this was unusual; remade prewar organizations were usually unable to cope with the harsh new that was life in the wastes, and they were always changing. What was odd was that they seemed to be lasting. Neither he nor any of the staff officers knew why, but these new groups seemed to be lasting and, worse, conquering.

There was already enough trouble with the groups in the north. Col. Perkins had yet to return with his troops from his expedition towards Chicago, and they barely had enough troops to pacify the Super Mutants at peak strength as it was. He was confident in the ability of their little territory to survive without needing to find new scavving areas; ever since a ghoul had become a Minutemen officer, a major in Lafayette, more and more ghouls had been showing up in Indianapolis every day. This unexpected influx, coupled with the increased amounts of humans joining the Minutemen, had forced the people of Indianapolis to forget their prejudices, and now ghouls could be found in every part of town, from the new laser musket workshop to reconstructing another building in the downtown area. With all these new workers, farms had found themselves able to expand their harvest; this was the third year in a row that the entire territory had enough food. However, a lot of the new arrivals didn't seem to be interested in joining the Minutemen, for whatever reason. This left the General in a tight spot; if he sent troops south to determine the size and hostility of the new groups, he wouldn't have enough to protect the borders. At the same time, he didn't want the threat to grow unchecked.

Just then, an officer burst into his office.

"Sir....there's a report....from the intel officer....they've got another group located. To the.....east," the officer panted.

"Very well. Get me a map with the latest developments."

"Right away, sir." The officer ran off down the hallway.

The General turned to his desk and grunted in surprise. It was almost noon; time for the daily session at the Church of Atom. He would have to leave immediately to make it there on time; the map would have to wait.

[Confederation of imperial states]

"Hello?" she shouted at the wall. "I'm Major Mann of the Indianapolis Minutemen! Anyone home?".


The Paladin quickly went to the left side of the Barricaded wall, stepping up the metal stairs, he reached the top, the top half of his Power Armored suit above the top of the wall.

He looked down to the Minutemen, as they stood there, in eye contact with the Black, Powered Armored Brotherhood member, silence as the night grew.

"I'm the Paladin commander of the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel, Eastern defense Garrison" He stated, alerting them as to who they were,

"We were alerted of a force with Laser Weaponry heading westwards towards us, never expected Minutemen out this far.", The Paladin paused, before stating the Obvious question.

"What business do you have here?".

[Tysoania]

"What business do you have here?".

The major turned back to Lukowski.

"Go grab the colonel; tell him we've made contact," she hissed.

The lieutenant nodded and ran back the way they had come, no doubt glad to get out of danger.

The major turned back to the soldier who seemed to be in charge.

"We have come to speak with your commander. We don't want any trouble; just want to talk, is all," she called back.

[Confederation of imperial states]

"What business do you have here?".

The major turned back to Lukowski.

"Go grab the colonel; tell him we've made contact," she hissed.

The lieutenant nodded and ran back the way they had come, no doubt glad to get out of danger.

The major turned back to the soldier who seemed to be in charge.

"We have come to speak with your commander. We don't want any trouble; just want to talk, is all," she called back.

The Paladin nodded back to one of the Knights, who quickly went over to the Engineers to open the Gate.

The Paladin stepped down the steps, carrying his bozar with his left hand as he stepped down, his Power Armor heavy with each step.

As the Gates opened, the Lieutenant was greeted by the Paladin, as 4 Initiates quickly filed out along the wall, not against the minutemen, more incase any Raiders attacked.

The Paladin walked over to the Woman, hers, and the rest of the Uniform's weren't as overly armored as the Brotherhood's, but were commendable and respectable enough for their force to be taken seriously.

"I'm Paladin Tycus, current commander of the Eastern Garrison of the Brotherhood of Steel", he extended his right hand towards the Lieutenant, an Old World Gesture. "And you are?".

[Tysoania]

"I'm Paladin Tycus, current commander of the Eastern Garrison of the Brotherhood of Steel", he extended his right hand towards the Lieutenant, an Old World Gesture. "And you are?".

The major stared at the hand for a second, then, shouldering her laser musket, she seized the hand and shook it vigorously.

"Nice to meet you, Paladin. I'm Major Mann, with the 2nd Infantry Regiment; my commander should be here in a bit. We're just here to check out some rumors of a threat from the north. Are you guys from Chicago?"

[Confederation of imperial states]

"I'm Paladin Tycus, current commander of the Eastern Garrison of the Brotherhood of Steel", he extended his right hand towards the Lieutenant, an Old World Gesture. "And you are?".

The major stared at the hand for a second, then, shouldering her laser musket, she seized the hand and shook it vigorously.

"Nice to meet you, Paladin. I'm Major Mann, with the 2nd Infantry Regiment; my commander should be here in a bit. We're just here to check out some rumors of a threat from the north. Are you guys from Chicago?"

"Nice to meet you, Paladin. I'm Major Mann, with the 2nd Infantry Regiment; my commander should be here in a bit. We're just here to check out some rumors of a threat from the north. Are you guys from Chicago?",

"The Midwestern Brotherhood's been in Chicago for well over 100 years, ever since the West sent us out to go to Chicago. Dunno if you know the full story, but our chapter was lost from the main one heading east, we set up here, and we've been defending the region's people ever since".

As some of the Initiates filed out, they began a sort of patrol across the bridge on either side, to help secure the gate's area.

"The Threat up north....As new as the threat is, The Midwest currently has it under control".

The Paladin gestured for The Knight to come up, as he did, The Knight produced a Holotape, which displayed a minivisual for the Major.
"The Only name we've gathered from the scavenged Robots is 'Calcatron', some sort of AI, Hive Mind, thing, that's leading an Army of Robots in and around the northern border of the former commonwealth state of Illinois". "As you might've guessed, It did attack us, thet attacked our Northern Garrison with an army of hundreds of Robots, however once they regained their bearings, they were easily able to repel them. However the rumors spreading, well....".

The Knight chimed in, " 'Towns being stripped by robots, The brotherhood being picked apart'....All of which are untrue, seeing as our Vertibird scouts of the area the robots fell back to, are barren wasteland, no living towns in sight, and so far not another Calcatron attack has occurred".

The Paladin nodded, "Anyways, nice to see some sort of other, sensible government out here, besides the men up north. Once your commander arrives, we can go over the possible paths for discussing with our Elder".

[Tysoania]

"Anyways, nice to see some sort of other, sensible government out here, besides the men up north. Once your commander arrives, we can go over the possible paths for discussing with our Elder".

"Oh, no, we don't need to talk with anyone right now. The colonel was just worried that you were planning to destroy us, sack the farms, kill the civilians, yadda, yadda, yadda. As soon as he gets here and hears you guys, we'll probably head straight back, " the major said. Behind her, she heard the clopping of brahmin behind her. The colonel was approaching. Time to wrap this up.

"Well, if you ever need tatos, I've got a farm outside Indianapolis. Just ask for the Mann farm whhen you get to the territory".

She heard the brahmin behind her stop. The major turned around and saluted as the colonel walked straight past her to the Brotherhood soldiers, who looked amused.

"Colonel Perkins, of the Indianapolis Minutemen, 2nd Infantry Regiment. Glad to make your acquaintance. Do you have a commander I can speak to?"

[Kerloff]

Jack A. Westin, President of the New California Republic

God, he hated Oregon. If it wasn't the drops of irradiated water that fell from the grey sky it was the bands of crazed cannibals that had plagued the region for as long as anyone could remember. At least, until now.

He had to hand it to the people who came before him, things had improved considerably for the NCR in the decades that had passed since his venerable grandfather Roger was still breaking balls in the Republic Council. Reno was the first he could remember as being on everyone's lips, 11 years before, when Jack himself had been only a lowly lieutenant with the Boys in Burlap. Now look, they were making incredible inroads into Nevada, approaching the Utah border. Some scarce settlers had drifted into Mexico, and of course there was the matter of the NCR's economic dominance. Now that the Legion was broken, regardless of how high the cost was, people had a lot to look forward too, as citizens of the most powerful state west of the Rockies. A bit of turbulence pulled his attention from the rolling brown Oregon hills below him towards the interior of the dimly lit Vertibird. Directly in front of him, squinting in the dark at a leaf of papers, was the perpetually-worried face of his fellow passenger in the Vertibird, sitting Secretary of State Dennis Crocker. His appointment of Crocker had been a bit of a controversy, to be sure. Being the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to New Vegas after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam had done its damage to the poor man's reputation. All the same, Westin knew an effective operator when he saw one, and Crocker was certainly one. You didn't pull off the Treaty of Boulder like he did without talent. That Treaty had saved the careers of every politician and military man that had ever even heard of New Vegas, to say the very least.

New Vegas had not become the latest addition to the NCR like was hoped. However, as the Treaty stipulated, New Vegas became an autonomous associate-state of the NCR, and best of all access to the Hoover Dam was not denied to the NCR. Electricity and water still flowed, trade still flourished, life went on. And without Caesar there menacing over it all, too. That sounded like a win to Westin's ears.

"Why bother, Dennis? I can't see two feet in front of me in this light." He waved his hand in front of his face and tested his theory. Excluding the light coming out of the tiny windows, it was almost as dark as night in the cabin. That was what you payed for the safety and anonymity of riding in an regular NCR Army Air Brigade Vertibird as opposed to his personal Presidential Vertibird. That one came with mood lighting and a drink bar, but also screamed out "Shoot at me!" to any degenerate raider on the ground.

"I might as well try, Mr. President," Crocker announced, without looking up.

That got a grin from the President, but before he could commend his SecDef for his devotion to his work the harsh tone of Captain Morrison pierced the droning monotony of the engine.

"Mr. President, Mr. Secretary, the landing zone is in sight. The Rangers and the local militia have secured the area. Please fasten your restraints, we'll be touching down momentarily."

For an old Army dog like Westin, the landing was easy as pie, but Crocker looked ill at ease as the landing gear loudly collided with the ground and both men undid their harnesses. Well, what did he expect? It's not like there would be a proper landing pad in the middle of fucking Oregon. This place was a dump, but by hell it was an NCR dump. When the craft had come to a complete stop, a loud clanging issued from outside, followed by the squeaking of hinges and light in his eyes that was ungodly bright compared to the gloom he had spent the whole trip in. Shaking the light from his eyes he gracefully climbed down the steps to the outside world, returning the sharp salute given to him by a Veteran Ranger. 10 of the bastards surrounded the Vertibird, and those were just the ones he could see. Like he expected, the ruins of Eugene were as greasy and grey as the rest of Oregon. Thankfully, it wasn't raining this time, but the eerie fog sent an involuntary shiver down his back. All the same, he waved at the assembled settlers who had come out to see their President.

Eugene was his pet project, his attempt to bring together the feuding factions of the Republic and set them towards something more productive. At the start of his presidency 6 years ago, there had been no proper settlement in South-Central Oregon at all, save for the neglected rundown backwater of Eugene, built in the ruins of the prewar University of Oregon. Only a few of the campus buildings still stood, but those that did served as housing for the administration and colonial militia leaders. Along the Willamette river, the settlers had access to water that was more or less untainted, and with it they grew a fine crop, from what he could see. Scholars and experts he had consulted estimated that in 50 years time, Eugene could grow to become the sixth state in the New California Republic. To prevent accusations of favoritism, the settlers hailed from every state of the NCR, and except for a few disputes here and there, the colonial government assured him that things were going smoothly. All the same, he knew how difficult it had been for these people, uprooting their lives and moving in search of new prospects in the Wild North. Granted, they were given free land if they came, and assured that they would be protected by their government. It was paying off wonderfully. The hardest times had been the first year, when the local cannibals and raiders had to be driven out by force. It had taken an entire brigade to pull that one off, but for now the savages were cowed into submission by the might of the NCR. Even now, people settled farther and farther from the perimeters of Eugene, feeling safe enough to survive on their own. In time, this region would become a true civilized land, just like the other states of the Republic. All in good time.

Jack plastered a winning smile on his face the short, stocky colonial governor ambled over to him. This was how the NCR was going to conquer the world, one handshake at a time.

[Yottabota]

The sun shined harshly on the desert fields, the shine dried soil, the soil turned to dust and the wind picked up the dust whenever it decided to turn into a twister. The eventual sand storm would blanket the state and turn the outdoors into nothing more than sandy blizzard. The weekly dust bowl brought its challenges, but it's nothing the local farmers and ranchers hadn't found a way to get around it. When soil dried, irrigation from a nearby dam would drain in and revive the land. When the wind turned to a tornado, they would gather their livestock and family, returning down to their small makeshift bunkers to wait it out.

It has been like this since the dawn of the 23rd century, and Alexus say to see it be continued past the end of her days. She sat by the comms relay, day in and day out to respond to any incoming messages or radio signals. It wasn't her job, by any means it wasn't her job, but she found some joy in it whenever she was able to convince some traveling wanderer to visit their cities and towns. The city of Houston, was the prime example. The city had recorded the least amount of action during the Great War, and many of pre-war buildings still stood in slight disarray. Alexus took a sip from her can of coffee, her revolver laid down on the table, as the door to the comms relay office opened.

"Morning Governor, anything new?" She shook her head as the comms relay specialist and DJ walked into the office, his plasma rifle at his side.

"Same as usual Mr. Vincent, how's things down on the ranch?" He placed down a plate of grilled Yao Guai. "Yao Guai? Thought this was coastal food..."

"A caravan heading to New Vegas came our way, bought some "exotic" meat from him in exchange for a gun or two, even threw in this." He smirked as he placed a roll of paper on the table, spreading it out to show a rough map. "Behold... The roughest map I've ever done seen in my life..." He chuckled a little and stole a sip of her coffee, "ugh gross... Not s single ounce of whisky." He spat it out into a small bin next to his chair before he sat down, watching his leader eating the steak.

"So... New Vegas... Ever been there?"

"Once, did some business with some NCR fellas before ah came back home to help with the Confederacy."

"Must've been exciting."

"Not as exciting as fighting off Cazadors all day."

"Don't remind me, I swear hearing a pair of buzzing wings is given me some sort of shell shock." Alexus sighed as she finished eating the steak. "This is some deeeelicious steak, if it just had some of my pa's old barbecue sauce we'd have one hell of s meal." They both chuckled before a little buzzer went off.

"That's my cue, musical hour is done." He rolled over to comms console and flipped on the switch that turned the system into the DJ booth. He looked through his records and found one that he took a special interest in.

"I'll take my leave then, see you later Vincent." She waved goodbye as she left, turning on the radio on her Pipe-Boy, an old relic she recovered inside of a derelict Vaultec Vault. She turned it to the Lone a Star Radio and listened as she left the building and patted the triple eyed mustang with a spare tail and a little weak leg jutting out of its neck. "Come on beauty, let's go join up with the other Rangers. Yah!" She mounted the horse and road off.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, ghouls of the like... I wanna ask y'all an honest man's question: what does it mean for a man in these times to be wild? To be a lone, wonderin' this here wasteland or to be part of somethin' bigger than yourself? Does man seek comfort in living to his own inhibitions or to deliver himself to a higher cause? I'm no man of God you see, but I am a man of my cause. The unification of Texas, and the stability of our Confederacy are two things that ah hold near and dear to my heart." He got out a record and spun it in his hand, "however. I ain't one to ignore my primal instincts... Sometimes yu just gotta be wild, cause that's how we're born." He put the record on the player and started it up as Steppenwolf's Born to Be Wild starts playing. "Have a nice day folks, and may God Save The Confederacy."

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Mobile, Alabama

---

Thomas Banner sat behind his desk, fanning himself with peacock fan. Another rusty, dusty Old World artifact he'd collected from the ruins of the Deep South. The large, battered mahogany desk was cluttered with empty glasses, stained papers, and miscellaneous paraphernalia. Thomas tapped a Vault-Boy bobblehead lovingly, a small smile creeping across his wrinkled face as it's oversized head swayed back and forth. A sharp rap at the door stirred the President from his thoughts. "Come in," he said, analyzing the man who strode through. It appeared to be the same courier who'd brought news of the conquest of Alabama. His flashy uniform appeared exactly the same, even a little more polished and elegant. He saluted; a quick glance at his gilded epaulettes showed him to be a Major in the Confederate army.

"I'm glad to see you, major," Thomas said softly, leaning back in his overstuffed chair. "Thank you, sir. I bring urgent news. First from General Smith; he has surrounded Mobile, which is occupied by a fierce gang of raider scum. Fortunately we vastly outnumber them, and with our cannon we are quickly pushing them back and deep into the city. The general hopes he can secure the city by tomorrow evening." "Excellent!" the President exclaimed, reaching for the nearby glass of cool lemonade. He poured the liquid down his dry throat, sighing as he placed the crystal glass back on the table. Waiting for Thomas to finish, the major presently resumed the briefing.

"Sir, I assume you are familiar with this kingdom, to our East in Florida?" Banner bit his lip. "Indeed; what of them?" The courier tensed. "They have expanded their borders to be next to ours." Thomas scowled. "This is not good." He paused, opening a desk drawer and removing a tin of chewing tobacco. Inserting some inside his mouth, the President chewed while thinking hard. "Send a party to them, and ask to negotiate a peaceful settlement. We want trade with them, and perhaps an agreement of peace." The major nodded, saluted, and dismissed himself. Thomas continued chewing on the soothing material. This could be bad. He only hoped those wild pirates wanted peace and not war.

---

Colonel George Woods dug his boots into his steed's sides, making the mutated beast gallop even faster. Six of George's aides rode alongside him, while not too far behind them were a column of Confederate soldiers. Suddenly the colonel jerked on the reins, his horse rearing up in frustration. Hastily the other riders did the same. "There it is!" Woods said, pointing a gloved hand out towards a stone bridge. On it he could see a small detachment of soldiers; the Floridan picket lines. Moving along at a slow, lilting trot, George neared the bridge, the soldiers behind him nearing as well. He could see the Floridans tense as the large infantry column came towards them, but the colonel pulled his felt, tasseled hat off and waved it at them.

The horse's heavy hooves thudded on the rough stone bridge, and now George could clearly see the men in front of him. Swinging off his steed, and his aides following suit, Colonel Woods approached them. "Colonel George Woods, CSA," he began, sticking out his hand.

[Derpopollissss]

Jensen Orsan sat in his desk, twiddling his thumbs. He sighed, the work was getting to be to much for him to handle. Food shortages, unrest, you name it. He looked at the picture of his ancestor, Daniel Orsan, the creator of this said Vault. "What would he do?" He asked himself, wondering what in the world he could do. Then it hit him, he'd have to follow through Daniel's footstep. He got up and ran to his filing cabinet, fishing for Daniel's files. He pulled out the file and threw it open. "Personal info, money, yadda yadda...here!" He opened up to a page titled, "Plans for the future"> Other than the obvious plans one was written in red pen, "Leave the Vault.". Jensen groaned, Would the citizens revolt? What would happen to them? Would they get massacred? He took out his walkie talkie, "Henry?" He asked, waiting for a reply.
"Yes Sir?" Henry asked. noticing the nervousness in Jensen's voice.
"Gather the Militia and the Security to the entrance, we're opening the vault." He replied almost immediately.
"... SIR YES SIR!" Henry shouted, running to the announcement area. He picked up the Mic and spoke loudly, "All Militia and Security report the the entrance asap for briefing." He sprinted down the vault to the entrance, meeting 500 Eager Men. "Men! I come to you today for a special mission! We are opeing the Vault and need to be ready for any confronation! WE MAY ALL DIE! BUT IT IS FOR AMERICA! Do you copy!" Silence...Then cheering erupted from the men, they were so happy to see the outside world. Henry Wemway ran to the Vault system and activiated the release. An announcement came on.
"Hello? Is this thing on? I, Jensen Orsan, Overseer of The Vault, have made the decision to open up to the outsiders in hope of more supplies. You may not know but we are dangerously low on food. This is a great oppurtunity to spread out and reclaim America. The Vault is still our home, and in the beginning it will only spread very close to it. But as our supplies grow and population rises we hope to recreate society as we know it. I am going on an expedition with a crew of 3 Security and 2 Militia. The men chosen to come with me have proven themselves to be the best of the best at what they do. They are Officer Colins, Officer Jameson, Officer Corn, Militia Deputy Hans, and Militia Sheriff Ivan. I have no doubt they will help make this expedition a success." He pulls away from the intercomn, waiting for a riot. But he hears loud, jovial cheering. He laughs, glad that it's over. He takes a key out of Daniel's file, and unlocks an old rusty safe. He takes out a large gun with an enormous barrel and many coils. He loads it with many Nuka Cola Fusion Coils. He reads about the weapon. This weapon was the first thing stolen from Vault-Tec. I had helped design it, so I took it as my own. This weapon runs on Fusion Cores, similar to the Gattling Laser, Instead of firing small lasers rapidly, It slowly fires one giant laser, shown to level Buildings when fired correctly. Jensen smirked, this would prove useful, no one would think to stand in his way. He took a Nuka Cola Pistol and popped in some cells, and put on a suit of experimental combat armor, unfortunately it's just that, and is only slightly better than the regular. He jogs to the entrance and meets up with Colins, Jameson, Corn, Hans, and Ivan. He salutes his vault before taking the first step into the outside world.