Fallout: Incursion (IC Thread)

[Alinora]

FALLOUT: INCURSION

"...You may rest easy. Know that the future is in safe hands, that mankind will thrive under our guidance."

---

Background

"If only we'd understood what Bunker Hill meant for the Commonwealth...

It wasn't that we didn't know - it's that we didn't want to believe it. I dunno... the Institute, the damned boogeymen of the Commonwealth, attacking those Railroad boys to get their synths back, and then the Brotherhood swooped in... it was a fuckin' bloodbath. I mean, that type of thing happens all the time here, but, we couldn't see how really important the Bunker Hill Incident really was. I remember the "Man out of Time", some guy from before the War - Ben Avery or something - changed the whole damn Commonwealth, and it started at Bunker Hill.

They call him the Director.

Shortly after the Bunker Hill Incident went down, everyone was still trying to figure out what the hell happened. Everyone's blood was everywhere, and everyone was the culprit. I guess everyone was numb by that point, and nobody batted an eye when Avery - the Director - and his synths marched again. It was a quiet death, the Railroad's. Unsuspecting - like killing a baby while it sleeps. A small army of the Institute synths, led by the Director, proceeded to activate the wholesome slaughter of the Railroad at their headquarters, up in the Old North Church. Nobody knew for a couple of days - I guess it took that long for someone to show up at the HQ and see all their buddies butchered, but the news hit hard. Everyone was scared, I guess - I get it.

The Railroad was... gone, for the most part, and most people tried to just accept that. There was, at least in Diamond City, an uneasy veil that covered the whole damn place. Who was next? Was it us? What was the Institute planning? Most of us figured it was only a matter of time before ol' Maxson and his Knights and Paladins started slugging it out with Avery's Institute, and we were right. At least, that there would be fighting, but by no means was there a war.

With one quick swipe, the Institute obliterated the Brotherhood of Steel. Sending everything they had, the Institute launched a preemtive strike on the Brotherhood's base at the Boston Airport - seizing control of their prized, shiny gadget, 'Liberty Prime'. Turned Maxson's own guns against him - used Prime to down the Brotherhood's airship, the Prydwyn. Even today, it's husk is docked at the Boston Airport - an uneasy reminder of the Brotherhood's fate.

And just like that, there was nobody to stop the Institute. Only days after the Brotherhood bit the dust, Synths from the Institute marched right into Diamond City like they owned the place - s'pose they did, actually. A lot of eyes turned to the Minutemen to stop the Institute, but instead, the two groups worked together. Apparently Preston Garvey and Ben Avery were friends, and neither one wanted any more fighting in the Commonwealth. They began to cooperate, and together, the Minutemen and the Institute set to work.

I'd be lying if I said was wasn't wrong about the Institute - they certainly didn't act the way we expected them to. They helped us, mostly - hell, they did a better job than the Minutemen at times. Their technology improved the lives of people all across the Commonwealth, and their Synth troops were both quick and efficient. Settlements that came under attack rarely had to wait for the Minutemen to show up, because the Institute could deploy troops in just minutes. The Minutemen held out strong, and continued on with their goals of uniting the Commonwealth - separate from the leadership and authority of the Institute.

Overall, as time went on, public opinion of the Institute drastically improved. They were still a major unknown - still nobody knew where they were, or exactly who they were, but they had made it clear that they were there to help. The Institute never directly interfered with the authority of others - never did they implement laws in Diamond City or drastically change people's way of life. For many, they were silent protectors. For others, their hearts were still filled with contempt, understandably. The Institute had still done terrible things in the past, and undoubtedly, still were.

However, most were fine with letting the Institute's secrecy illude them, and would have rather taken their help than question their leadership. In a place like the Commonwealth - place that relishes in chaos and endless violence - any attempt to bring civilization to the wasteland was welcomed, and people rarely questioned what hand was feeding it.

Though now, all that seems like ancient history. It's been around four years since the Institute took charge, and while many things have improved, their fragile peace with the Minutemen is beginning to wane. Public opinion seems divided, and good ol' Director Avery and Preston Garvey don't see eye to eye so much anymore. The turmoil - the threat of conflict - seems to weigh on everyone's shoulders. War is something that most people are numb to in the Commonwealth, but even so, it isn't something most people are out looking for.

As fate would have it, however, conflict between the Minutemen and the Institute isn't the only thing threatening to tear the Commonwealth apart. There are a lot of reports of a group calling themselves "the Enclave" making moves in the area, along with remnants of the Brotherhood of Steel and Railroad. There are also whispers of some Raider army coming up from the south - "the Hoard", or something like that. Rumor has it that these guys tore through the Capital Wasteland a few years back, basically wiping out the shattered factions of the Brotherhood and overall, causing a shitstorm down there.

So, in short, we've got our hands full. Let's just hope that years of progress don't get flushed down the drain."

- Nick Valentine

OOC THREAD

[Alinora]

- THE INSTITUTE -

---

The Institute | Commonwealth
Director Benjamin Avery

With his arms crossed behind his back, Director Avery walked through the main concourse of the Institute. On the central platform, which was a glass floor with calm water beneath it, he leaned against one of the railings and watched the water gently flow down the falls - something he always did to calm himself during stressful times. He liked to imagine life before the bombs - especially is visit to Niagara Falls as a child. Things were always more... simple, when he was a boy, with no worries other than getting good grades in school and getting his chores done. That simplicity was shredded when he joined the Army in 2066 and was sent off to Alaska with the 75th Ranger Regiment, where he would serve a total of 4 tours over the course of more than a decade. It was bloody... battles like the Wan Tan and Talkeetna offensives were especially brutal, but Ben was proud to have contributed to America's victory. He remembers returning home to Nora, no longer awaiting a call back to the front. He was a free man.

But that was... so long ago - not something that Ben wanted to think about too much. He looked away from the gently-flowing falls and proceeded past Synths and Scientists, many of whom often spent break time relaxing in this area. He proceeded to the section in which his Quarters were located, but instead took the stairs all the way to the top floor, where the Directorate was assembling for it's monthly meeting. Taking their seats were Clayton Holdren: the Head of BioScience, Justin Ayo: the Head of the SRB, Madison Li: Head of Advanced Systems, Allie Filmore: Head of Facilities, and Alan Binet: Head of Robotics. Wearing the Director's Lab Coat, he entered the room. The Heads, who had been taking their seats, greeted the Director as he entered, and Ben would make his way around the table and take a seat at the end. A clipboard with all the information for the meeting was already in his place.

"Thank you all for coming" he said, looking over the clipboard. "We are officially calling to order the May, 2292 meeting of the Directorate." He cleared his throat. "May we begin by hearing Division Reports?"

Dr. Li was the first to speak. "All active projects are up to speed, Director. We've made significant progress in Project Apollo, but we may require additional components from the surface."

Ben nodded. "Submit a mission request, and I'll make sure you get what you need." She nodded. "Robotics?" Ben asked.

"Synth production continues steadily" Dr. Binet said. "As requested, we've shifted Synth production to roughly 30% 3rd Generation, with 70% being 2nd Generation. Within a few weeks we should have an additional 500 Synths calibrated and ready for action, Director."

"Thank you" Avery said to Binet, who nodded. "Facilities?"

"Nothing major, sir" Allie Filmore answered.

"BioScience?" Ben inquired.

"Our experimental strain of corn seems to have a remarkable growth rate - nearly 3 times faster than the current strain on the surface, with no adverse affects. We have a few wrap-up tests to run but it should be ready for use on the surface." Dr. Holdren explained. "Also, FEV tests on prisoners have gone well - we're building up a considerable auxiliary force. Once Advanced Systems perfects their neural implants for the mutants, we should have a small army of completely loyal super mutants."

"Very good" Ben said, then turning to Justin Ayo. "Dr. Ayo, any updates with the Bureau?"

"Remarkably only one report of a captured Synth this month, and X6-88 was able to retrieve it very quickly. T6-77 was admitted for repairs he suffered in an engagement with Gunners north of Cambridge, but they were minor." He paused. "Though I do suggest we invest more in dealing with the Gunners - they've dropped off the map a bit lately and I fear they're up to something."

"I will certainly look into that" the Director responded, then turned to speak to the entire Directorate. "Any more reports or updates?" The Doctors shook their heads. "Very well, then I have a few things I would like to address." He looked over his clipboard before speaking.

"Our agent within the Brotherhood Remnants at the Sentinel Site hasn't reported anything new. They seem to just be riding out the storm, so for now, we do not need to worry about hunting them down."

"Are you sure, Director?" Dr. Ayo asked, somewhat frustrated. "The Brotherhood has made it a point many times in the past to show no mercy to anyone even remotely associated with the Institute - if we let down our guard, they may strike."

"I didn't say we're going to let our guard down, Doctor" the Director said, "I merely said that we will stall plans to eradicate them from the Sentinel Site."

Justin Ayo was silent for a moment. "Very well, Director."

Director Avery looked over his clipboard again before speaking. "There are also reports of a group calling itself 'the Enclave' over in New York appearing to be headed this way. Something we she keep an eye out for." He skimmed his writing and spoke again. "Also, I've allowed additional funds to be transferred to Advanced Systems to help with Project Apollo, and will place a Courser-led squad at your disposal, Dr. Li."

She nodded. "Thank you, Director."

"Lastly..." Director Avery said as he flipped a paper on the clipboard, "last week, Dr. Li reported unusual energy fluctuation to the north, around Salem. Scans that were performed yesterday showed that these spikes are still occurring, so I've decided that I will lead a team to investigate." Ben hadn't been on the surface yet this year, and was itching to see some action.

Director Avery stood, looking around at the others. "Is there anything else?" The Directorate shook their heads. "Very well, this meeting is finished. Next date will be the first of June, 2292."

The Directorate proceeded to leave the room, and Avery would make a trip to Advanced Systems to assist with Project Apollo.

[Alouite]

Brigadier General Henry C. North,
Weedsport, New York,
En Route to Syracuse

General North stepped out of his vehicle to see a line of soldiers extended at either side of the road surrounding the convoy. Quickly, Brigade Staff assembled and soon the Battalion Commanders from Desert Fox Battalion, Sunset Battalion, and Columbia Battalion had arrived. General North spoke stating orders, "Good afternoon men, this is a reminder as to what our plan is today. We will complete this meeting by 17:30 reach the town at 18:05, then as we have done in the past, we will secure the convoy's perimeter by 18:25, and begin requisitioning local weaponry and supplies needed to keep up with logistical demands. We then will re-assemble at 21:00 and allow for a Convention to decide the final course for our convoy, I expect that the convention will be completed by 22:30, we will secure our position with light fortifications and rest until morning, then, at 07:00 we will begin tearing down our fortifications and at 08:15 we will set course for our decided destination. I am speaking to you all personally because I expect all of you to ensure this mission happens no faster nor slower than it ought to."

The Battalion Staff officers asked a few questions, most coming from the Brigade S-4, or logistical officer, Lieutenant Cameron Miles. The Brigade was rationing supplies, and he was mostly asking for General North to approve the plans he had arranged with the S-3, operations officer, Captain William Grey. Once the meeting was over, the men returned to their motorized vehicles, passing Armored Personnel Vehicles which were being used to transport most of the infantry. The convoy was a pattern of two motorized transports per armored personnel vehicle, ensuring that at any point the APCs could take immediate action in protecting the officers and civilians. As always the officers returned to their vehicles first, followed by the enlisted men. Within five minutes the entire convoy was ready to go, and soon they were on their way to Syracuse.

As the Brigade moved due east along the road now flanked on either side by trees, General North was in the passenger seat of the Brigade's single Humvee, planning, setting out recommended courses of action and evaluating them for the convention, until now, he had little problem convincing the several political figures and officers given a voice during the conventions to follow his direction, however, the Erie Convention saw some resistance, with many wanting to go due south for Washington D.C. and connect to the Enclave unit there. He looked over his plans again, at the Erie convention people that agreed with his plan to make a final decision at Syracuse wanted to either go North to Burlington, or South, either to the greater New York area or Boston. He contemplated his decision and decided for himself that it would make most sense for them to head south, through Boston, where they could have a final convention on whether they should settle in the area or head south for New York.

Soon the convoy stopped, and again the infantrymen rallied with their assault rifles along both sides of the convoy. This time when General North exited the vehicle, his first sight was a row of pre-war buildings. The city was quiet, and seemed abandoned. His enlisted men from each Battalion searching along the sides of the streets, looking in buildings, and sweeping the area for explosives. Again his staff met with him and this time set up a table and some chairs. He sat down at the head of it and got out his radio, setting it on the table to communicate with the Battalion Commanders. His S-2, or Security and Intelligence Officer, Lieutenant Sarah O'Connor, spoke first "Sir, from the reports the scouts we sent ahead a few days ago, we have little reason to be cautious, beyond our base standard of course. There are said to be very few people in this city, some tribal group south of the city and a settlement based in the Fairgrounds we passed along the Lakefront."

General North replied "I saw your report, this information has already been distributed." The S-2 nodded, she had been unsure as to whether her report had been handed off to the Brigade Commander by her assistant or not. She then said "Sir, I also would like to present this to you." She handed three manila folders to him, each had been typed up on a typewriter and were marked with labels that said 'Course of Action - Burlington', 'Course of Action - Boston', 'Course of Action - New York'. He replied "Has this been checked by the Executive Officer?" She replied "Yes sir, I went by the medic car earlier today. He is in much better shape now too, his fever is dying down." General North felt relieved "Very good." He then said "I will review these as soon as our meeting is over." He looked to the Brigade S-4 and said "Have you located the missing rifles?" Lieutenant Miles shook his head, "We have not."

General North sighed and flipped on the radio. He then said to the S-2, "handle this" and walked over to his CSM who had been standing at ease over by the table. She nodded and flipped a switch which put her on the frequency which co-responded to Columbia Battalion's signal company and said "Read."

A member of Columbia Battalion's signal company responded "I read mam."

Lieutenant O'Connor said "I am sending a direct order down to Lieutenant Colonel Richardson. Acknowledge."

The signal man responded "Check mam, copy that."

Lieutenant O'Connor continued "I am directly ordering that a special force comprised of two squads from Columbia's A Company who are currently on the barricades begin immediately searching for stores of petroleum. The leader of one of the squads selected is to act as a platoon sergeant during this operation. Acknowledge."

The signal man replied "Check mam, wilco."

Lieutenant O'Connor gestured to one of her assistants who handed her a list of known pre-war locations that have oil in the city. She then said "I will transmit the coordinates of the gas depots in Syracuse to you now."

The signal man replied "I have received the coordinates and wilco immediately, over."

Lieutenant O'Connor then said, "Very well, over and out."

She switched the frequency to back receiving all incoming messages.

General North returned to the table after finishing a discussion with the CSM and said "I want another group on this as well, have a detachment from Desert Fox assist them." O'Connor nodded and said "Yes sir."

She repeated the whole process with Desert Fox's signal company.

---

Colonel John O. Mosley,
Syracuse, New York,
Overseeing the operations order in Syracuse

"Sir, we have a direct order from General North."

Colonel Mosley turned to see the Battalion S-2, Kyle Underwood standing at attention in front of him. He then saluted and said "The Battalion sent orders to our signal company, they are requesting a squad from Alpha company to assist two squads from Columbia in setting out early to plot out locations of oil stores in the city. These orders were sent directly from General North." Colonel Mosley nodded and said "Inform Alpha's Company Commander to select a squad for this mission."

"Yes sir."

---

Staff Sergeant Samuel C. Roland,
Syracuse, New York,
Carrying out orders to merge with task force one.

By 18:15 the third squad of the second platoon of Alpha company had been singled out and selected. They soon thereafter arrived to merge with the two squads from Columbia Battalion and as they arrived their squad leader, Staff Sergeant Roland stood in front of their First Sergeant who had been selected for the operation and raised a salute before speaking, "First Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Roland, Desert Fox Battalion, Alpha Company, Second Platoon, Third Squad, reporting for duty."

[Ormata]

Peig Uí Donnagáin
The Castle, Minutemen Territory

She stood along the banks, just next to The Castle. High walls stood-out against the water, lapping at the stained rock. In front of her, on a little makeshift drydock, was her creation. Her greatest development, to the Minutemen just another harmless project, say there in the sun. The metal hulk was something glorious, in her eyes, though the slightly-rusted hull gave her some issues. It was the damn precipitation, that’s what she thought, the precipitation gave her too many issues. She had to build it here, though; couldn’t haul the damn thing. Peig shook her head, leaning on the half-built shack next to it and wiping lubricant on her clothes. Fucking hell, maybe today was the day. Maybe it was.

Approaching the thing, she made her way up it via a ladder. The submarine was hung on a little crane, as it were, just above the water. Peig had made damn sure the crane and chain were quality stuff. Well. Quality for the wasteland. Needless to state she didn’t want to get into the water with a hull that’s holier than the Templars. Needless to say she also didn’t want the equipment inside to get wet. It was worth more than...gods, quite a few things. Quite a few.

Opening the hatch, Peig jumped inside, feeling the sub sway gently on it’s chain, the noise of rattling briefly coming before it settled down into a slight motion. Making her way aft, she clicked-on a switch. The three Fusion Cores she had found were each inserted into their slots, and the lights came on. A green light on each slot said it was all good, and Peig’s eyes traveled down to a screen. A console sprang to life, lines of hard code denoting the computer talking to other systems. MS-DOS was so very happy, the bright blue cast against black backgrounds. Reading it, she nodded in satisfaction. Everything was going alright.

She moved-up, coming to the center of the ship, or thereabouts. A captain’s seat, along with accompanying controls. In lieu of a conning tower, like some had, a squat little cylinder was welded onto the hull, glass plates providing a good view of the surrounding area. Peig had contemplated getting a periscope, but...it would be only moderately hard to control it while standing or, for that matter, simply operating the periscope. No, better to not have it. It’d just add weight, anyways.

Peig got her stuff into it, and released the submarine into the water; it was bit a half-meter above the water, anyways. The Arbiter, yeah. That’d be a good name, Arbiter. Was old-world enough that it fit the sub. It splashed, bobbing a bit before settling-down. She had tied the thing down, as well, and jumped onto the vessel, not at all giving credence to the crowd which had formed. Untying it at the sub’s end, she got inside, turning the vessel about and out to the water, somewhat going into the water as though a beast.

At least that’s what she liked to think. The vessel was surprisingly quiet, moving like a ghost on the water. That was good; no sense in making a stealthy thing to have it spew smoke. Peig made her way to the Yangtze. She wanted to show the thing off to the ghouls there, smile and wave to the bastards.

[Parcia]

Tera Rhody
Western Boarder of the Commonwealth Wasteland

One look at her pipboy and she sighed. Most of the 3 month trip across the old US was easy, simply walking eastward, taking care to check her pipboy's map every now and then. She hadn't even fired her anti-mat, although she couldn't say the same for the service rifle.

Her visor pinged something on her compass, a red rectangle on it. She dropped to one knee and shouldered her rifle. She was puzzled, the visor kept reading something closing in on her, but she couldn't see a thin- her though was cut off as she noticed the lets of large foot prints appearing on the ground in front of her, rapidly getting close. Just as the invisible feet reached her, she dove to her left and rolled on to her back.

She sighted the rifle and pulled the trigger. the rounded impacted the Deathclaw and momentarily disrupted the field of bent light around it. "FuuuuCK!" she cursed as she pulled the trigger rapidly, emptying the rest of the 20 round magazine in to the cloaked beast. All of the round hit, but did little more then piss it off. It lunged at her and she managed to roll out of the way, if just barely.

As she stood, she felt a blossom of pain in her side and looked down, seeing a rather nasty looking cut were it's claw had just barely nicked her. The Best rolled to a stop and readied it self for another lunge at the Human, the muscles in its legs coiled like a viper ready to strike. it never got the chance to though.

BOOM. The sound of the .50 caliber rifle rang out across the hill top, being audible for miles around. The first 12.7mm Armor piercing round ripped through the Chameleon Deathclaw's left leg, severing it at the knee. The beast fell forward and let out a howl of pain as loud as the gun shot.

She chambered a second round and sighted its head, gazing in to its steely eyes for a few moments as it stretched out a clawed hand at the would be prey. She pulled the trigger and sent the second round through it's head. The shot range out again, but the beast would fall silent.

She let the rifle fall from her shoulder and set it one the ground. Pawing at the cut, she winced. It had cut through the side of her armor like butter, and maybe 2 inches in to her side. She reached in to her pack and pulled out a Stim pack. While it wouldn't fully heal the wound, it would numb the pain and at least stop the bleeding, for now.

Injecting the stimpack just above the cut, she reached in to her pack and pulled out a strip of cloth. Wasn't the ideal thing, but she needed something there encase it started to bleed again. Wrapping it around her mid section, she held it down with one hand and got the duct tape she had, using that to secure the make shift bandage. Standing up, and only wincing slightly at the dull ache in her side, she slung the large rifle and picked up her service rifle.

She had a long way to go, and she likely would need to find a doctor soon. She started walking Eastward, aiming for the towers of Down Town Boston.

She recalled the mission she was given: Find this Institute.


A few hours of walking and Tera was starting to dread this mission. The dull ahce had grown back in to a steady pain as the Stim pack wore off. She guessed that the cut had healed for the most part, but the constant motion of walking had aggravated it, thus making it bleed some more.

She caught site of the large fort first, her eyes widening in question. The map called this place "Sanctuary Hills", though she saw the meaning was quiet literal. A place of this size must have some sort of Governing body, and since the place looked to...good, to be a raider camp, she quickened her pace, rifle in hand.

[Skyhooked]

Commonwealth/ Concord
John Kelly, leader of the Silk Trails company

A large group of different people, lead by John Kelly finally arrived to the Commonwealth from afar. They stopped near few ruined cars to have a rest and plan their further route. Many caravaneers finally had some relief from that long walk, and started to enjoy their rest, while they could. They satisfied their hunger too, while brahmins drank water like crazy from a small pond. Meanwhile John Kelly and his assistant started to discuss the next stop.

"Those damn raiders! We are lucky that we decied not to bring our business to the Capital Wasteland... I heared in one bar, that those... how did they call them?"- Asks John Kelly

"The Hoard."- Says Eddy, John's assistant and close friend.

-"Oh, right... Hoard. As we heared, they slaughtered many people there... under the rule of Brotherhood of Steel, can you imagine? I hope they won't come here. Regardless, we have more important things, we must discuss, where should we settle. *Looks at his Pip-Boy* There are few places I have in mind. First is the Diamond City... So called "Jewel of the Commonwealth", it's big and seem to be well protected."

- "Perhaps, but probably the rent costs are like that "Jewel"... expensive as hell. I know what I am talking about... And such places may have many regulations... hard to get rich, when there are many taxes."

-"What about Sanctuary? It's probably a nice place, with nice guys called Minutemen."

-"Hmmm... it's a bit too far. We may not reach it till the night. But maybe we can reach Concord. A good place too."

- "Well, perhaps Concord then."- Says John Kelly, while sips alcohol from his flask. -"Half of an hour rest, and let's hit the road!"

After a while, caravaneers packed up and went in the Concord direction, they appreciated the moments of rest, and looked a bit less tired. On their way they met few raiders, who attacked them, but regretted their decision soon, some minutemen and Institute synths, whom they asked for directions, and then a travelling merchant, who sold them few stimpaks.

Finally they arrived to the Concord, and piked a building for rent. They were looking for it pretty long time, but managed to find one on city's outskirts, it was relatively capacious and pretty cheap to rent.

As soon as John Kelly arranged the formalities and payed for the rent, the Silk Trails company settled there. They set some tents around the building, arranged basic furniture in the house itself and built a fence for the brahmin pin, so those "two-headed devils" how one of hte caravan drivers call them, won't escape. That was a hard day for all of the Silk Trails, so as soon as everything was ready, they went to sleep.

[Alinora]

...

Sanctuary was certainly one of the nicest settlements in the whole Commonwealth. Tall stone walls surrounded the small island which it was placed on, guards patrolled around them and sentries were on top. On a large hill in the background was what would appear to be a massive fort, with the Institute flag waving alongside that of the Minutemen. A wooden bridge would lead to the fortified entrance, where men with large hats stood alongside odd-looking soldiers, who's faces were concealed by their helmets. One of these soldiers, who stood at a barricade in the center of the bridge, held out his hand to stop the woman who was approaching. A second soldier, identical, approached. The same symbol that was on one of the flags was on his clean white uniform, beneath his armor. In a deep, mechanical voice, he spoke.

"State your name and intent."

[Parcia]

"State your name and intent."

Tera Rhody

She stopped a good 20 feet in-front of the two. The start white of their garb a stark contrast to their surroundings. She eyed them through her visor.

"I am a messenger, from the West, I have been told to come here and speak to a "Institute"...I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that's who your with?"

The two didn't..feel right. Her Ranger's intuition were telling her these two weren't all that Human, their poses were too ridged, two mechanical. There voices sound Human..almost, perhaps it was the helmet's speakers, but they had just the barest twinge of...unnatural to them.

She took a note of their gear, some sort of polymer armor, similar to her's but not as heavy duty. Their weapons were completely new to her, though they did look like some sort of take on the old laser rifle is only in general shape.

[Alinora]

"I am a messenger, from the West, I have been told to come here and speak to a "Institute"...I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that's who your with?"

As the woman finished explaining, the 2nd Generation Synth spoke. "According to Article 4, Section 3 of the Institute Surface Operations Manual, all information concerning the Institute's location, military operations, science projects, and all unmentioned topics are classified." The synth paused for a moment, but then continued. "You are currently at Sanctuary - under the control of the Institute, with assistance from the Minutemen."

The other synth, standing at the barricade, turned towards the gate. It began to open. The Synth speaking with the woman continued. "Please report to the Commonwealth Relations Office, located in sector B of the town. Have a nice day."

When the woman would walk inside, she would immediately be ambushed by a man who began talking rapidly in a high-pitched voice. "A newbie, huh? The Institute's pretty selective about who they let into Sanctuary nowadays. Where ya from? Where ya goin?"

[Parcia]

Tera Rhody

She stepped in and took in the atmosphere around her, it almost felt like home, the sights, the smells.

She took a few breaths through her visor and stepped forward.

"A newbie, huh? The Institute's pretty selective about who they let into Sanctuary nowadays. Where ya from? Where ya goin?"

The sudden barrage of question caught the Ranger off guard, almost as bad as the Deathclaw did. "Wait, what? The hell are you?"

The armor clad women would turn her full attention at the new man. "Liston, buddy, I don't know who you are, nor do I give the faintest of fucks as to why you see fit to walk up to the heavily armed ranger and annoy the hell out of her not 5 seconds after she walks in to town, now point me to this relations office." Her voice would be dripping with venom, her arms ridged as she kept her self from dumping a mag in to this man.

She wasn't normally this angry, but the Deathclaw, combined with the stress of basically sprinting across the US to get here had finally caught up to her.

[Skyhooked]

As the new morning started, turned out, that Silk Trails company members will have much things to do. First is to arrange the rest of the furniture in the house, which they did relatively fast thanks to their Mr Handy Bannister. Then they had to feed their brahmins, and establish first ties, so they could make money and contacts. They had enough starting capital, so it won't be a large problem.

John Kelly gathered all company members and started giving orders.
-"Now, we need to establish contacts, scout the area and study the market conditions. Ten members, Bannister and Nash, our supermutant will stay at the building and guard it. The rest, split up on three caravans, take brahmins that cargo in the basement, and maps. First caravan, lead by McCormic will go to the Starlight, second one, headed by Jack will go to Sunshine Tidings and check the place, and I will lead caravan to Sanctuary. Coming out in an hour. If everyting is successfull, we will meet there at this place. If something happens, contact me or guarding people by radio."

After that, three caravans prepared for the trip, and soon headed to their destinations, hoping for the best. John Kelly once again felt, that he is on the right track and that his life takes a right turn. He looks happy, and maybe even a bit reckless. Looks like he found a right place for business. He decides to talk.

-"Hmmm... not so bad after all. We have enough cargo, food, drinks and men. And a new terra incognita, which is much better than we thought. Wonder, how does sanctuary look like?"

-Eddy responds- "Don't know, perhaps it will be nice place to trade... I hope so. Also, that caravan driving invokes nostalgic memories about our business back there... on the south-west. How we met first time, and how we fought in a pub with some drunken prospectors...*Continues his nostalgic talk*"

They talked even more about diferent things until they finally arrived to the Sanctuary. They don't know about other caravans, but hope for the best.

[Alinora]

"Wait, what? The hell are you?"

"Listen, buddy, I don't know who you are, nor do I give the faintest of fucks as to why you see fit to walk up to the heavily armed ranger and annoy the hell out of her not 5 seconds after she walks in to town, now point me to this relations office."

The man, who probably resembled a newsman from the 30s, went defensive. "Eyyy I'm noy trying to be intrusive or anything but you certainly don't look like you're from around here, and look around, this is a nice little community." There were many houses in Sanctuary, and most had been restored to their pre-war state. The grass was green, sidewalks weren't cracked and for the most part, people were dressed in clean, pre-war clothes. It was a blast to the past. "We just don't want anybody tryna ruin things here, ya know?"

...

The woman from the West had just entered the town, and the gate had just closed, when a caravan approached the first barricade. The synth, dressed in a clean white uniform with armor, held up his hand like he did to the woman, and a second soldier approached. He said the very same thing as he did to the last person, in a deep, mechanical voice.

"State your name and intent."

[Skyhooked]

"Wait, what? The hell are you?"

"Listen, buddy, I don't know who you are, nor do I give the faintest of fucks as to why you see fit to walk up to the heavily armed ranger and annoy the hell out of her not 5 seconds after she walks in to town, now point me to this relations office."

The man, who probably resembled a newsman from the 30s, went defensive. "Eyyy I'm noy trying to be intrusive or anything but you certainly don't look like you're from around here, and look around, this is a nice little community." There were many houses in Sanctuary, and most had been restored to their pre-war state. The grass was green, sidewalks weren't cracked and for the most part, people were dressed in clean, pre-war clothes. It was a blast to the past. "We just don't want anybody tryna ruin things here, ya know?"

...

The woman from the West had just entered the town, and the gate had just closed, when a caravan approached the first barricade. The synth, dressed in a clean white uniform with armor, held up his hand like he did to the woman, and a second soldier approached. He said the very same thing as he did to the last person, in a deep, mechanical voice.

"State your name and intent."

John Kelly quickly responds "I am John Kelly, leader of the Silk Trails caravan company. I came with my caravan to trade and establish business connectios. If you didn't hear about such company, don't be surprised. We came to the Commonwealth yesterday. Our headquarters are in Concord."

[Lunas Legion]

Anna Blacke

Anna was not a fan of Vault 95. She was not a fan of Vaults in general, really. She'd spent most of her life in former government bunkers, and a Vault was much the same. The main difference with this Vault was that she got a much larger room, mostly because her room was the same as the Gunners war room. It had been the Overseer's office once, apparently used for 'rehab sessions' for the addicts that had been put into the Vault as its occupants. Their skeletons had been quickly removed.

Currently she sat on a torn leather chair, back to the window overlooking the Vault's atrium. If she turned she could see her Gunners in various states, some sleeping, some doing their 'morning' exercises, others sharing a fag or playing whatever variant of poker was the new fad. They actually trained in the 'clinic' since it wasn't like they had any use for the detox machine. They had taken the chems left in the Vault and were holding them in reserve for use when the Gunners were in dire-enough straights to decend to the level of raiders.

The door was off to her right, in the far corner of the room, the left having been partitioned off with a curtain, behind which were here quarters. Rank had some perks. The room, however, was dominated by an elaborate map of the Commonwealth projected onto the floor from a jury-rigged ceiling mounted projector. On the projected various stacks of caps, cigars, cigarrettes and cards rested. To anyone else, it would be an unintelligible mess. To anyone who knew Gunner war cant and mapping practices, it was the state of the Commonwealth.

And, to be frank, that state was not good. They'd been forced out of Boston and the 'Inner Ring' around Boston, forced to withdraw to heavily-fortified strongholds on the periphery of the Commonwealth relative to Boston. The loss of the Plaza had denied them their main communications hub, so they'd been forced to improvise, instead using the abandoned Surveillance Station in the Glowing Sea as the main communications hub between their various bases and outposts, using the old encrypted military channels. They were still one of the most potent forces in the Commonwealth; they had the largest fleet of Vertibirds that she knew of since the Brotherhood met their well-earned demise, one of the largest and best-trained armies since the Enclave, and were easily the most entrenched faction in the Commonwealth.

Vault 95 alone was a fortress on the surface, surrounded by walls, barbed wire, trenches and minefields, all the while patrolled by Gunners. The other strongholds were no less formidable. The outposts were far smaller, mainly intended as raiding bases or used for recon purposes. Knowledge was power, after all. And speaking of knowledge...

She knew there were Brotherhood Remnants out there. They'd picked the Vertibirds up on Fort Hagen's partially functional radar array somewhere in the Glowing Sea, although it could just be blips, but she wasn't about to take that chance. She'd helped to fix it, after all.

"Kyle?" She shouted shortly before a battered old man jogged into the room and snapped a hastily salute.

"What can I do for you, General?" Kyle was her aide de camp and Brigadier of Vault 95, and was one of the oldest Gunners still alive and in fighting condition.

"Give this to the radio boys on the surface for them to relay to K21." She reached into her trousers and pulled out a holotape. "Orders?"

"We going loud?" Kyle asked, taking the holotape.

"Not yet. The time to strike isn't now."

Kyle sighed. "Same as all the other times. I'll head on up then." With that Kyle jogged off to pass the holotape to the radio operator, who relayed it on to the Federal Surveillance Center.

Order #210
One (1) field scout is to take position at the Atlantic Offices building and remain there on observation duties, reporting any unusual sightings, esp. Vertrbirds.
Reinforcements are to be available on request due to the location of the operation in an extremely hazardous environment. One (1) stealth boy and one (1) radiation suit are to be made available to whomever you dispatch.

General of the Armies of the Gunners Anna Blacke

[Parcia]

Tera Rhody

The man had the smell of the press on him. Something Tera Despised greatly. While she was all for freedom of speech and expression, she loathed being badgered by reporters. She had hopped she had left them all behind back in California, but it seems her luck ran out.

"We just don't want anybody tryna ruin things here, ya know?"

Wincing as a particular hot stab of pain dug in to her side, she sighed audibly. "If I wanted to cause trouble, I would have already, as for this "Institute", That's why I need you to point me to this relations office."

She did look out of place, the dust, mud, and other substances that coated her armor, the long .50 that hung on its strap on her shoulder, and the weathered service rifle that she held in both hands were a stark contrast to the clean clothed, mostly unarmed world around her.

[Vacif]

Leon Hardwick
Quincy Minuteman

Leon leaned back in the old plastic chair inside the Church's bell tower. From here, he could just about see everything. From here, no one would or really could bother him. From here, he waited for something to come poking over the horizon. However that something, whatever it may be had yet to show up, and maybe never would. With nothing to do, but look over the town, he did just that. Quincy had come a long way since four years ago. Homes had been rebuilt, the old police station was restored and now acted as the garrison HQ, the dammed rad scorpions were finally out of the garage, and yet despite all this, there were relatively few people here in comparison to it's size.

Perhaps it was because of the past? The Institute maintained a small unit here, but it was mainly militia and Minutemen. People didn't feel comfortable living in the place of a massacre, or simply didn't trust the Minutemen to do the job again. Honestly? He didn't blame them, but things were different now. Hopefully at least. He was picking up whispers about general discontent among the ranks. When there was discontent, there was division. And when there's division... Well everyone knew the historic phrase.

Not including the Minutemen/Institute garrison, there was somewhere between the range of thirty to forty people. Defending the place were 15 homegrown militia, supported by 10 Institute Synths (he didn't know which type), and 15 Minutemen including himself. But don't let the garrison's size fool you. The southern end of the commonwealth was a hive of activity between the Alliance, Brotherhood and the Gunners. Countless firefights and offensives have left many battlefields ripe with equipment for the taking. The Quincy garrison was better armed than most other places. Fit with laser and plasma rifles, as well as combat armor looted from the Gunners and Brotherhood.

They rarely saw action outside of fending off the occasional feral pack, or stray 'lurk. They really needed to exterminate the sources. He was pretty sure the ghouls were coming from the near by school, while the 'lurks were coming from the swamps, and the Poseidon plant to the south. Hopefully, the garrison commander would let them go hunting some time soon. Things were safe, but things were stale too, and Leon was a man of action. He quite simply did not like stale.

[Alinora]

"If I wanted to cause trouble, I would have already, as for this "Institute", That's why I need you to point me to this relations office."

The man chuckled - looking up towards the woman in the odd armor. "What, you're trying to find the Institute?" He seemed to find the idea stupid, but when he realized she was serious, his face went blank. "Look lady, I dunno where you're from, but you clearly ain't from around here. You don't find the Institute - the Institute finds you. Those boys in the white: Synths, they're about as much of the Institute you'll find here." He paused as the two walked. "Visit Public Relations all you want, but they'll just send you in circles until you end up face down in a Deathclaw's nest."

John Kelly quickly responds "I am John Kelly, leader of the Silk Trails caravan company. I came with my caravan to trade and establish business connections. If you didn't hear about such company, don't be surprised. We came to the Commonwealth yesterday. Our headquarters are in Concord."

The two synths remained quiet for a moment, staring directly at the caravan, and then the second one spoke. "Under these circumstances, I assume that you are not in possession of Commonwealth Trading Permits." He was again silent for a moment, but spoke. "Your caravan may not enter Sanctuary walls until you visit the Commonwealth Department of Trade and Commerce Admittance Office, located in Bunker Hill. You can acquire your permit there, and that will allow you to enter."

[Insaeldor]

Hoshaiah Ezikiel
Sanctuary
Minuteman

"Fucking synths." I muttered under my breath as I looked over at a group of institute soldiers. Sanctuary had started to simmer as Avery and Garvey clashed in private. I myself was never one to put to much trust in the institute. Law, Education, and to a degree peace anywhere within a city gate were all great things, but I could never shake the feeling that the Institute was up to something sinister.

""These synth fucks aren't much for the economy" I thought to myself as I looked over at a group of institute soldiers rejecting some poor as dirt caravaner, telling him he needed to go to Bunker Hill to get a permit. The idea that you needed a piece of paper to trade and sell scrap always escaped me, to me it just seemed like another way for Avery to control the populace. After if you control the flow of economics you control the people from all over.

I simply took a sip from my canteen as all this bullshit transpired, after all it was within my jurisdiction and I'd rather not make my life a living hell by stepping on the Institutes toes. The idea of a unity between our groups was a little silly and it's sad that Garvey is only now starting to see his Naïveté when dealing with Avery, the fucking idiot let his personal feeling for Avery eclipse the realities of the world. The Institute didn't want what was best for the people, they wanted test subjects to experement on like a wasteland full of lab rats for their skinny fingers to grab and send to the lab table for the most horrific of experiments. The Minutemen wanted a free society build of the philosophy of the greates human beings to have ever existed, the ideals of freedom and truth which we wished to propagate, Avery sought power and that's why these god damn synths made up his forces. We sought security and safety and that's why we recruited from the people of the Commonwealth, we were a collective defense force which sought only to maintain peace not propigate Illegitimate claims of authority and power.

I took my leave, nothing to see here anyways. Just the institute pushing its shitty fucking laws on the weakest of all possible people in the Commonwealth. I hoped to god that we'd get the chance to kick all these Synth fuck out of here. I didn't even give a fuck about the vault or any of the research going on I just cared that these fucks stopped imposing all these bullshit laws that served to expand Avery's power rather than the safety and prosperity of the Commonwealth.

I walked through the streets of sanctuary looking for things to do, I felt as though the minuteman had been turned from protectors of the Commonwealth to passave observers of the commonwealth. So I kept on walking, acting as the passive observer that Garvey had made me.

[Anowa]

Marilyn Farkas
Sanctuary

Well, whoever said that Sanctuary didn't see much action was wrong. For one an NCR ranger had showed up, looking for the Institute. That wasn't fishy at all, no fucking sir. That being said, the fact that the woman was here, it should've been obvious that they aren't gonna be the only one from the west seaboard in the Commonwealth. Marilyn would be keeping an eye on her, that was for damn sure... the grumbling and obviously angry Minuteman as well. Hell she'd have to keep an eye on a lot of things.

That being said, she unbuckled the holster for her magnum, her AK dangling from it's sling across her body. All but glaring at the ranger, waiting for anything somewhat close to a suspicious action. Marilyn would feel no qualms putting the woman down if it came to that. Although everyone else in the settlement would have to keep their heads down... the fight wouldn't be easy that was for fucking sure.

[Monarchy of Japanada]

Jack Harley

Jack was now in her apartment, only a bit away from Diamond City. She was looking out of the balcony, but never straying too far from the building's interior with the fear of falling to her death, which would happen if she fell, because the apartment was high enough that she could just barely see over the city's walls. Inside the apartment fared well for the Great War, with the only damage being some fallen rubble in the room's corner, a bullet through the balcony's windows and a smashed TV which was previously emitting an ear bleeding white sound, until Jack pulled the cord. There was also some other stuff there too, a bed, fridge, couch, cooking utensils and all the stuff you'd commonly find in an average apartment, nothing special or unique, other than all of the random parts thrown about, which Jack collected herself, not previously there. Jack looked down below the balcony, spotting someone walking by her apartment. She put one of her hands on her hip and bent down, slowly sliding over further onto the balcony while remaining low so she wouldn't fall off and snap her neck, at least thats what she imagined would happen if she stood up. J.H was in the apartment tending to his own business. WIP?

[Parcia]

Tera Rhody

"Visit Public Relations all you want, but they'll just send you in circles until you end up face down in a Deathclaw's nest."

Alright, Tera was beyond annoyed. It wasn't that the man was unhelpful, as he had at-least given her some information, it was his attitude. Her less then rational side was telling her to wave the big .50 around until some one gave her some clear answers, something less cryptic then "The Institute finds you." But her rational side was telling her she had orders that strictly said not to start a goddamn war.

She took a few deep breaths, and reined in the urge to start popping shots off. "Look, it's just been a long, tiring walk from California to here, I have had to deal with all manner of things, most oh which I am pretty damn sur-" She would let out a short gasp, letting go of the barrel of the gun and grabbing her right side, the only evidence beyond her own gasp being a few drops of blood dripping from the inside of her duster. She regained her composer, some what, and went on. "I just need some way to get in to contact with who ever is in charge, send them a message that may or may not be vital, and try not to bleed to fucking death in the mean time."

She would note the armor clad women, her appearance would set off a few alarm bells in her mind. Her armor was...interesting, and looked to be based off of her own Ranger gear.

[Pacific Brotherhood of Steel]

---

The TSC
Salem

---

Jacob Warren, Admiral of the TSC

---

Jacob sat in a near ruined couch in one of the numerous ruined buildings that were so common in Salem. His men were doing their best to assist the civilians in getting at least a part of the city livable. They had only been in this place for only two days now and the going would be slow. Most were still in shock at what happened in the Capital Wasteland. Everything that had worked for was dashed in less than two months. An unorganized horde of tribals swept them and the BoS in one fell swoop. They held out as long as they could.

Jacob could still remember when they finally abandoned Megaton. They had fired their guns so often for so long that they started to warp from heat. And yet they did not relent. They must have killed hundreds, possibly thousands and it was only a distraction. When they were exhausted and nearly out of supplies they sent in their best troops. Fairly armed and armored they blew a hole in the side of the north wall and forced their way in. Though they were eventually pushed back, Megaton was no longer a defensible position and they had to retreat. It was a hard blow to the TSC. They had lost skirmishes in the past but the TSC had never faced truly heavy casualties like so. We had always assumed due to out advancement compared to others that we were unstoppable. Nothing could harm us truly. Even the most egregious of wounds were fixable. Megaton was sobering. Nearly a third of the TSC military was lost in that defensive. He still saw the faces of so many.

Jacob swished around the glass of whiskey that he had hanging loosely in his hand. Something he picked up in Rivet City when he was searching for his dad. It seemed so long ago that he was just a fresh faced kid out of the vault. He took a small swig of it. The burning in his mouth slowly rolled down his neck and set warmly in his stomach. It didn't work as well as it did all that time ago but it was something at least. He began to cry. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of all that was gone. He thought of Sarah. He missed her so. He should have never left. He should've been there to protect her.

Then he thought of Maxson that conniving bastard. He caused all of this. Every death was on his conscious. He was the source of everything that had transpired in those last few months in the Capital. If he hadn't have killed Sarah, if he had not left like he did, then maybe, just maybe, they would've stood a chance. The TSC and the Brotherhood together could've weathered the storm of the veritable legion that had come at them. They could have crushed them and forced them out of the Capital and chased them back to wherever they came from. But here he was. By himself crying in a house drinking his sorrows away. Jacob jumped to his feet, roaring at the top of his lungs. He slung the glass into the decaying wall of the house and watched as the glass shattered into a million pieces falling to the ground like tiny snowflakes.

He raised his shaking hands up and looked into them deeply. What had he done to deserve any of this? Why him of all people? Why did he have to be the one to chase his dad across the wasteland? Why did he have to watch as everything he held dear burned around him? Useless questions to no one in particular. Jacob never considered himself a holy man but the trials of the last couple years had drained all of his old optimism away. The only thing that ruled this world now was power. There was no peace, no hope. Only death and destruction would be found in this wasteland. And he would be the one to bring it.

The Brotherhood would pay. He would bring them to their knees. He would find them and he would take them down. Jacob wiped his face of tears. He took a few heavy breaths in an attempt to calm himself down so he wouldn't walk among his citizens a sniveling mess. He knew they sympathized with him and his plights but he would not should weakness. No the people needed strength now more than anything. To show less would demoralize them more than they already were.

Jacob walked out the front door of the building and into the semi-bustling streets of Salem. They had made signifigant progress in the last two days with the help of their robots and the few power armored men that they still had left. They had started by clearing out the local mirelurk population that infested the city. Their shells were no match for their advanced weaponry and soon they all lay dead, their shells cracked open. They then harvested the eggs of the mirelurks eggs and made a pen for the young that would be birthed to be made into a cattle of sorts.

Next they started to clear out the streets of the city and clean up all the refuse and garbage that lie around. That was still a work in progress and wouldn’t be done for many months. They had mainly worked on the local areas to make it easier to get around and slowly they would expand outwards from the nucleus they had made in the town. Already quite a few buildings were livable in and people had started to move into them.

A few were clearing out the arable land that was available and began getting the ground ready to plant crops. This was their home now he supposed and they were going to make the most of it. Though they really didn’t need them per say, unmutated plants would be a valuable trade good in the wasteland assuming this one was like the Capital.

Lastly, some had taken to clearing out some of the buildings to scavange anything of use to them. They were in need of raw materials and several buildings were beyond repair and would have to be taken down. They would provide tons of raw material with which to build upon this city of theirs. Some were also scaving for things they already had plenty of that could be used to trade. They would need to build an economic base and scaving was always a good place to start.

Jacob continued down the road towards where the new capital of the TSC had been made, the old mayor office. Already a TSC flag flew above the place, flittering in the wind. Just as Jacob was about to reach the front door his radio crackled and a voice spoke to him. ”Admiral, sir. We have a problem. Large energy fluctuations were detected to the south. From what the scanners can glean they were powerful. Real powerful. Like teleportation powerful. I think we have company, and not the good kind.”

Jacob froze in place. There were two possibilities here. Either there was a faction just as advanced as them, which was already highly unlikely, and they had decided to pay a visit. Or the aliens were back again and they had found them. That last one sent a chill down his spine. To think those green freaks were back again was mind boggling. And this time they couldn’t easily deal with them. The TSC didn’t have the men or the supplies to hold them. ”Send me all pertinent information to my pip-boy immediately. Call all soldiers to me, we have a tier one situation, I repeat a tier one situation.”

Jacob waited and listened as the info downloaded on his pip-boy remotely. Already from the map he could see where they came from, roughly, and where they were likely to go. Canal St. Once all the men gathered he debriefed them shortly and they all took off a bit down Canal St. to find a place outside of the town proper to mount a defense accordingly.

The came upon a three story hotel on one side of the road that had huge double pane windows that he ordered his Hammerheads to setup in. They would have a large arc of fire and could suppress the enemy as they came by. He left a few marines with them to watch their backs and cover them if need be. On the other side he setup his remaining marines in a burnt out coffee shop to pin the enemy from the other side. They quickly setup what few defenses they could while Jacob and the Thunderfists took up hidden positions in the street.

Jacob crouched down behind a dropbox and pulled his trusty blaster from its holster and readied it to fire. He waited patiently in silence like the rest of the men ears straining to hear any noise at all. Jacob finally caught wind of the sound of loose gravel crushing around into itself and peeked his head around the corner and laid his eyes upon the first synth he had ever seen.

[Taldaria]

Order #210
One (1) field scout is to take position at the Atlantic Offices building and remain there on observation duties, reporting any unusual sightings, esp. Vertrbirds.
Reinforcements are to be available on request due to the location of the operation in an extremely hazardous environment. One (1) stealth boy and one (1) radiation suit are to be made available to whomever you dispatch.

General of the Armies of the Gunners Anna Blacke

Sylena

"Corporal, hey corporal," the voice that called to her was gruff but high, like a young teenager who had been chain smoking since he was 5. The voice called from behind the shower curtain that she used for a privacy screen just beyond her bunk. The man staring back at her could scarcely be more than 17, his uniform was slightly too large and dirt and grime had been crusted into it. He looked like he hadn't bathed for several weeks as well though with the odor coming from much of the facility it was hard to distinguish from the background smells.

"There you are," he said, pulling back the curtain and looking down at her. She was sitting on her bunk with her legs crossed her rifle disassembled on a speller towel next too her on the made blanket. Her coat was folded neatly on top of the foot locker at the bottom of the metal rack and her backpack and boots were laid carefully under her bunk.

She smiled at the soldier, her dark hair framing her face before looking back down at her task. "What can I do for you," she asked setting the lubrication oil on her leg and pressing the rifles bolt back into place?

"The big boys want to see you in 5," he said watching her place the rifle on her bed side, "it sounds important".

"It all ways is," she slung her legs over the side and began pulling on her boots, "thank you for letting me know".

The young soldier turned and walked away without another word. The group was getting desperate, far to often the new members were being sent into something far beyond their ability. She stood up and pull her boots over her knees, then she wound her rifle over her shoulder and walked off to see her lieutenant.

Before the war the K21B facility had been a key surveillance center for the United States government. Sometime after the Brotherhood of steel had visited the center and wiped all of the data from the computer systems. After that the Institute had had a passing interest in it and now it was a key base of the Gunners mercenary group. The facility had been converted into a stronghold for the Gunners. It's rooms converted to barrack, armories, storage, and medical, and while it was arguably nowhere near on the same scale as previously, it acted as a signal interception and surveillance station offering the Gunners a huge edge over most opposing forces and allowing them to mass forces where needed to repulse Institute and Minuteman attacks or raid supply lines and poorly defended positions.

The barracks was located on the third floor and operations was on the bottom. When she arrived her Co. was waiting. "Sir," she said coming to a stop and offering a smart salute.

He nodded back and handed her the holotape, "your mission is on here," he said obviously a bit upset that it was classified to him. A sergeant handed her a radiation suit and a stealth boy. She picked up a radio from one of the comm officers and went back to listen to the tape. Her mission was simple enough, infiltrate the Atlantic Offices building and set up a listening outpost. She slipped the radiation suit over her clothes and pulled up her pack. She took the elevator to the surface and took a deep breath before walking off into the glowing sea.
---------
She never much cared for the radiation suit. It was big, uncomfortable, and unwieldy and it made it difficult to move around without attracting unwanted attention. At least this one had a dark browns and green color scheme painted on it as opposed to the bright yellow that was standard but it still did nothing to keep one more hidden then usual in this darkness. Then again in the glowing sea it did not matter much what time you left at, the pockets of radiation lived right up to their name making the entire landscape glow and strange yellow and orange hue that clung to the surface dirt and clawed its way up through the dust and storms.

The distance between the k21 and the Atlantic Office building was not very far but sometimes the shortest route is not always a strength line. As she crept over the ridges she spotted movement on the horizon. She pulled her rifle up to her shoulder and wrestled her eye to the scope. Peering through she spotted the tails of several radscorpions. They were about 500 yards away but she decided going around them might be the better course of action. She supposed that there must be a vast tunnel network underneath the entirety of the Commonwealth that allows for these creatures to travel vast distances in seemingly no time what so ever. In fact she had even heard stories of them appearing on top of buildings and other structures bursting out of these elevated locations from hundreds of feet away. Though she did not put much stock into such rumors she had no desire to test otherwise.

The rest of the short journey was rather uneventful until she came to the outside of the offices. She stalked around the outside of the building until she came upon a hole in the wall of what would be the second floor. She slung her rifle and slid into the room drawing her pistol from its holster. She scanned the immediate area spotting nothing at first. The floor had a large catwalk like structure surrounding the first floor with a set of stairs moving down. She jumped over the railing and landed softly on the floor below even though the large boots of the radiation suit made it difficult. She heard rustling to her left and spun around to see a couple of ghouls getting up from the ground. They were both dispatched with a single silenced shot each from her pistol, the large 10mm rounds blowing their heads apart.

She got up from her crouch and looked around the area, she walked into one of the few open doors and saw a hole in the floor. She jumped down landing softly and went through the only usable doorway. There was the elevator room and 3 more ghouls began to rise from the ground. 3 more shots and 3 more corpses crumpled too the ground. It seemed unfair really, they took such a long time to get up, shooting them was as mundane a task as writing a note on a scarp of paper.

She walked up to the elevator and pushed the button, the door opened and she stepped into the rickety old contraption. She pressed the the top button with her free hand and the elevator brought her up to the top floor. The door opened with a creak and she slither out. She saw a Glowingone standing there facing away from her. Part of the roof was collapsed and she climbed on top of it without the ghouls noticing her. She unslung her sniper rifle and took aim, the shot smashed though its knee and it crumpled to the ground. She then took aim at its skull and its head blew apart in a satisfying explosion of green goo and ichor.

She stepped back down into the building and surveyed the building building, there wasn't much left to see as she roamed around the floor and she returned to the elevator that took her back down to the 1st floor. She entered another room on the floor and saw a hole in the ground that led into the basement. She jumped down again and spotted 2 more ghoul that fell to her pistol yet again. The radiation seemed to be less in the basement and she decided to make this her area for stashing supplies. She removed her backpack and the took the elevator back up to the first floor taking time to secure the entrances to the building with tripwires and grenades. She settled in on the top floor and began to scan the horizon for any signs of activity.

[Skyhooked]

"If I wanted to cause trouble, I would have already, as for this "Institute", That's why I need you to point me to this relations office."

The man chuckled - looking up towards the woman in the odd armor. "What, you're trying to find the Institute?" He seemed to find the idea stupid, but when he realized she was serious, his face went blank. "Look lady, I dunno where you're from, but you clearly ain't from around here. You don't find the Institute - the Institute finds you. Those boys in the white: Synths, they're about as much of the Institute you'll find here." He paused as the two walked. "Visit Public Relations all you want, but they'll just send you in circles until you end up face down in a Deathclaw's nest."

John Kelly quickly responds "I am John Kelly, leader of the Silk Trails caravan company. I came with my caravan to trade and establish business connections. If you didn't hear about such company, don't be surprised. We came to the Commonwealth yesterday. Our headquarters are in Concord."

The two synths remained quiet for a moment, staring directly at the caravan, and then the second one spoke. "Under these circumstances, I assume that you are not in possession of Commonwealth Trading Permits." He was again silent for a moment, but spoke. "Your caravan may not enter Sanctuary walls until you visit the Commonwealth Department of Trade and Commerce Admittance Office, located in Bunker Hill. You can acquire your permit there, and that will allow you to enter."

John Kelly doesn't look too surprised, he sips from flask again and responds "That's a bit far... But if there is no other way for admittance than that, I will go for a permit to Bunker Hills. As they say, Dura lex sed lex... By the way, perhaps we can do some mercenary work for you then, earn some money so our travel won't be for nothing."

Then he quietly speaks with Eddy.- "Damn it! Would be better if I didn't mention some details... Well, hope we will get some mercenary job then... Get some caps, and get to know the Commonwealth better."

-"Well, we won't refuse mercenary contracts too... If they accept our offer of course"

[Alinora]

- THE INSTITUTE -

---

Near Salem | Commonwealth
Director Benjamin Avery

To the men who had their weapons raised, it would seem like an army marching at them, but they hadn't taken up a form of attack. Two-dozen Synths marching alongside a man in black clothes, Courser gear: the Director himself. Ben looked up at Salem - looking past the armed men - and got the sense he'd always gotten from there, likely the same sense that many people got from it. The Institute had tried to get the place settled many times, offering aid to anyone willing to farm the land around it, but locals seemed afraid of it. Ben, of course, learned about the Salem Witch Trials in school, but that was before the bombs, which left him to wonder if the story got carried on. Regardless, Ben hadn't been at Salem for at least two years - the last time being when he led an assault force to wipe out the Gunner stronghold took residence inside. Now, it looked like another group began to call Salem home, and as the authority and protectors of the Commonwealth, the Institute was forced to investigate.

Avery, the man in the black, kept his rifle at his side as he approached, and spoke loudly so they all could here. "You are currently trespassing on land under the governance of the Institute. Lower your weapons so we may speak."