NationStates

Houston, NCT
Inside the Presidential Office, Mad Dog was reviewing the formal opinions of the Minister of Dipolmacy, Richerd Zeso wrote against military action, seeing that no major loss of life was seen at Freeport, this could be allowed to pass given that the potential to gain a trading partner with access to great technology, without any more bloodshed was too promising to forego. The Grand Marshall of the Commonwealth countered in his memo, that military action was necessary and prudent to eliminate such a isolated threat. Rangers had already activated missions in the area, surveying the vicinity of the bunker opening, uncovering locations of air ducts and searching for secondary escape routes. Maddox saw the militaries efforts as prudent. He officiated a action plan.

The Bunker, NCT Territory
1st Battalion, 2nd Brigade was stationed nearby at Angleton. This battalion was dispatched to join the Ranger platoon already on site. They would arrive, Weapons Company would build defensive positions overlooking the entrance, ready to unleash a barrage of cannon, machine gun and sniper fire on the entrance, while the Reconnaissance squad joined the rangers in searching for the bunkers other external accessories, air vents, sewage pipes, escape hatches, water filters, etc. 1st Company would join Weapons in overwatch, while 2nd would provide additional assistance in the search while 3rd and 4th took up positions surrounding the area, to either intercept incoming reinforcements or to develop a second line of defense. HQ and Medical Detachment would form a Operations Base in the area, supported by 3rd Companies 2nd Platoon. Meanwhile, Weapons Company laid a number of land mines surrounding the entrance, while moving boulders and dirt to block up any escape hatches found. After a day or so, with everything in position, a fireteam of Rangers went down to try and make contact on the Intercom, their message, surrender now, or suffer consequences.

Victoria, NCT
The San Antonian ambassador was greeted by a NCT police checkpoint, emerged at the first sandbag wall was Sgt. Vermillion, wearing the standard blue police uniform, with a football breastplate underneath, providing some added protection. Vermillion called out, with a police issued single shot shotgun slung across his front.
"Greetings traveler, state your business."
Upon learning the traveler to be a ambassador from San Antonio, he was promptly brought to Victoria, where the regional governor could decide to send him onto Houston or not. A short, 8 minute call was made on the phone to the Foreign Ministry in Houston, where he was granted permission to give the man a police guide to Houston. Two police officers on horseback would now accompany the ambassador to the capital city.


A Message To The Free State of New Iberia, Louisiana

Esteemed ruler of New Iberia,
On behalf of the National Commonwealth of Texas, I'd like to offer your state, Commonwealth protection. As such, we find it of prudent nature in our time that we come together as nations, in the face of raider activity on our northern border. There is nothing else to do other than to see the writing on the wall, your state, with only some 75 men at its disposal, do you believe that you could resist thousands of raiders? No, however, with the assistance of my grand, military, your competent militia may stand a chance, to protect your homes, families, ways of life, and not become slaves to a deranged maniac. Please, I ask you to consider accepting this offer of annexation, and allow my nation to protect yours, and protect your people.
Respectfully, President of the National Commonwealth of Texas, Maddox

Iwashi Plantation, Baltimore
It was rare that a man could fire fellow Atlas Free Traders to guard him, few had such wealth or influence within the Gulch. Iwashi was one of those men though, his two personal guards clad in quintessential Vault Tec Powered Armour being used for their sheer intimidation factor. Such investment paid wonderful dividends as his Foreman was practically shivering in fear from just standing before Iwashi. His report was... Less than satisfactory, it was indeed quite bad, a certain failure of command on behalf of the faulty intelligence of the lesser people of the wasteland.

"This turn of events is unfortunate." Mr. Iwashi said simply, tapping his fingers along the arm of his chair as he was brought a pip-pad out to look over so numbers "Your pay will be docked for every slave that perishes under your command, furthermore if any escape you shall likewise be fined. I suggest that you reign in your slavedrivers. It would be a shame to find you in the fields because you are unable to pay your debt." his wife spoke up at last, nursing a brandy on the rocks "I understand that you wastelanders avoid thinking as a rule, but consider that slaves are valuable property. My property, and that of my husband, perhaps someday that of the offspring." with but a subtle movement of her finger one of the goons cracked his plasma rifle over the foreman's head. "I do not like having my property destroyed, further destruction of my property will not be tolerated."

Elerian wrote:

Columbus, Atom Delegation

What were a handful of poorly educated Militiamen to think of a pair of bedraggled men who claimed to be representatives of a religion they’d never even heard of? The men snickered among themselves before dispatching a man to retrieve the Sergeant, who likely though the men were playing a trick on him. When the reality of the situation was revealed, he in turn sent for the local Constable.

The Constable didn’t have the authority to treat with the missionaries, but that didn’t stop him from thoroughly interrogating the missionaries until he was sure this wasn’t some sort of elaborate ruse. Once the Constable was certain of the situation, the men were given the freedom to roam the town. They were offered fresh clothes, modest accommodations, and three square meals a day. Considering they resembled ghouls more than humans, they were treated with decorum but given a wide berth by most of the common folk. Such things were expected in a place such as Columbus, when feral ghouls stalked the countryside just beyond the safety of the walls.

When a diplomat finally arrived, it was quite some time after the two men’s arrival. Not because the Commonwealth wished to affront these men, but because these things took time. A freshly minted, young diplomat sat across the table from them.

“I’ve come to understand that you gentlemen hail from The Church of Atom, to what do we owe the pleasure?” The diplomat was sure to maintain eye contact, despite any discomfort he might have had.

Columbus
Children of Atom

The Missionaries, at first, were confused. The level of power structure was almost unknown to them. Why couldn't the leader just meet us?, Brother questioned they were confronted with Militiamen, then a Sergeant, then a Constable. But it wouldn't end here. In the Church, there was no fiddly business such as this. And what made it easier was the close proximity of the entire Glow. None of them were aware of how expansive the Gulf Commonwealth was. Once given the liberty to observe the settlement, the Brother and his fellow believers were shocked at the society. The brightness of the sun glared down upon them all, and the way people reacted to them was, unsavoury, to put it lightly. "What did I say," Brother whispered, as the others followed in his path, roaming the area of the town. Speaking for the other missionaries, Brother White blankly rejected the new clothes. "We adorn this attire as a respect to Atom, we will not be partaking in such other affairs," he would state. However, they wouldn't turn down the food, or the accommodation down. Just to be sure, Brother White examined the food before anyone ate. It was much different to the staple diet in the Glow. Irradiated agriculture never had a great taste, and neither did RadScorpion flesh. Finally, it was time to meet with the diplomat. Upon meeting him, Brother could understand the uneasiness in his eyes.

"I am Brother White. My companions here are Initiate Zane and Carla. The Church of Atom wishes to make contact with its closest geographical neighbours, to ensure peace and tranquillity. We have been told to approach you with diplomatic relations. High Confessor Wallace gives his upmost apology for not being able to .. attend. The Church would like to establish a temple in the Gulf Commonwealth. The Church would also like to be involved in trading, as we seek raw materials. And the Church would also like to see any map the Gulf Commonwealth has of the south, and in turn, we would happily share ours."

The Glow
Children of Atom

"Our Missionaries, attacked?" High Confessor Wallace questioned, again.
"Indeed. Off the I-65, near Evergreen. We have always been aware of heretic activity, it is an unfortunate gamble that we must take every time our Children leave the safety of the Glow," Zealot Ulysses, spoke. He was the cruellest of all members in the Church. Hence, he was put in charge of the merciless Zealot Army. While softly spoken, a history of violence and brutality hid behind it.
"By who?"
"Reportedly Raiders, unaligned with any of the factions. They ambushed the caravan, killed all but one Missionary. It is his testimony that we have our information."
"What is the damage, then? What did they take?"
"Well, this is when it gets, unusual. Nothing in the caravan was looted or stolen. Personal belongings of the Missionaries were taken, but none of the supplies or caps."
"This doesn't sound like raiders, what raider will miss the materialist opportunity to steal caps?"
"The Raider said, 'Leave the stuff, we're here for the Holy man.'"
"Holy Man? These rats are either taking pride from killing our Brothers and Sisters, or they're not understanding. Is that all the information you can give me Ulysses?"
"Not. All. This was found, dropped by one of the Raider's." Ulysses passed over the missionary timetable, carefully distributed among the high ranks of the Church. Somehow, a Raider, out of all people, got a hold of the timetable. It took the High Confessor a few moments to process the situation, he looked depressingly at the timetable. The sadness, turned to anger. He ripped the timetable, scrunched it up and threw it out the nearby window. Wallace abruptly rose from his chair.
"I want you to dismember EVERYONE that had a copy of the timetable. Either they carelessly lost it, which they should still die terribly for, or we have a traitor, a heretic within our mitts. They will still die terribly, and they will meet the fury of Atom after their passing. IMMEDIATELY order all Caravans to stop, and tell the scribes to create a new timetable! I want you to personally hand me the only copy. It will be locked away, permanently."
"Of course, it will be done."

An urgent meeting was called amongst the highest officials, under the false pretence of a speech from the High Confessor. The meeting room was an old shed, built from corrugated iron, with a balcony overlooking the table where many meetings used to occur. Over a period of ten minutes, all Elders and officials had gathered. Of course, without Zealot Ulysses or High Confessor Wallace. Many of them were chatting with each other inside, forming a group discussion while they were waiting for the High Confessor to 'arrive'. Ulysses approached the door silently, his presence unknown to the rowdy bunch inside the meeting room. Poking his head around the door, he rolled three fragmentation grenades into the crowd of people. He quickly shut the iron door, and latched it shut. A horrendous bang and harrowing screams came from indoors. Only but a smile grew on Ulysses face. Giving it a moment, he unlatched the door and walked inside. The Zealot drew his pistol, overseeing the carnage inside. Of the blood and mess, a few had life in them.. until. BANG. He walked around the meeting room, firing rounds into those who hadn't died yet. His army of Zealots would then arrive and clean it out, placing the remaining heads on pikes for all to see the "traitors to the High Confessor, and a traitor to Atom."

The Glow
Children of Atom

A runner, sent on behalf of the High Confessor was ready. It didn't take long for supposed highly advanced ghouls, who worship radiation, to spread to the ears of the people of Atom. "They are but our Brothers, they have seen the light. We must bring them to the Glow, then, only then, will they accept Atom as their true deity," an Elder added, before the Runner left to send the message. The only issue would be arriving there before any Raider faction destroyed them, pillaged them. If they were under the banner of the Children of Atom, perhaps more thought would be put into attacking them or not. As the Runner travelled, he took a glance at the letter, which would be presented to them when he arrived:

Brothers, Sisters,

We are one of you. We have been rejected by the outside, but we have a haven for those that accept the truth of radiation. We are the Children of Atom, the Children of the Divine Light that was created by Radiation. We have a haven for you to live, with the safety of Atom. All people are welcome, are our kind are especially welcome. Please, follow our runner, and bring your technology. Together we can prove a force, unstoppable to the heathens.

Tupelo, Northern Mississippi

"RETREAT!" Angel shouted to her men as they spotted the reinforcements on the horizon. They arrived earlier than Angel had anticipated, and there was a damn good reason why. It was the cavalry that had came to the settlement's aid. There were too much for them to handle. Angel, Miller, and a couple more raiders made their way over to the main gate and ran for it. Those that were left behind were either gunned by the angry townsfolk or cut down by the cavalry. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Miller muttered under his breath. Angel tossed her machine gun away and took potshots at the chasing cavalry instead with her .357 magnum. The raiders were cut down one by one as they fleed. Some raiders jumped to cover and shot back, not giving up without a fight, giving Angel, Miller, and the rest some time, even if it wasn't enough.

Everything seemed lost until a "DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS!" could be heard emerging from one of the rooftops. Ramsay laid waste to the chasing cavalry with his M2 Browning, tearing the cavalry down. The mounted men turned around as soon as the bullets rang, but the devastating range of the machine gun took more than a dozen of them before the rest could reach to safety. Angel and Miller cheered at their savior from the street. "FUCK YEAH, RAMSAY! GET THOSE BASTARDS!" As soon as the cavalry was nowhere in sight, Ramsay grabbed the machine gun, clutched it in his arms, and made his way off the rooftop as fast as he could, joining the other raiders as they ran for their encampment.

The siege was unsuccessful, to say the least. Had the damn reinforcements arrived just one hour late, things could've been so much more different. But for now, the townsfolk should cheer for their saviors. Who knows what could've happened if the were no reinforcements at all. Angel, Miller, and the survivors made their way to camp and beat up. They took the rest for the night, knowing that their place was defendable, and the settlers nor the cavalry wouldn't try to do anything funny knowing that the raiders had an M2 Browning with them, or even more. To preserve her honor, Angel blamed the entire failure on Miller instead, and had him castrated and put into the cages as a slave. The next day, the warband packed up and headed south, in the face of defeat.

---

Jackson, Mississippi
Headquarters of the 88th Brigade

"Lanius?" Olaf asked with concern. News had reached his ears of a challenge coming from one of his most capable lieutenants, the man referred to only as Lanius. "Yes, Allfather. Lanius. We've only received information that he wanted to challenge you to a duel for the throne. Him and his warbands are waiting in Columbus." Olaf, more commonly known as Deathshead, or the Allfather as was the title of the Brigade's leader, contemplated the whole situation. He was enraged. This boy-slave dared to spit in his face and challenge his rightful claim, after all he's done to make that ungrateful scum as one of his trusted lieutenants? Lanius had always been known to be a great commander and an even greater fighter, yet the Deathshead had in mind that his rulership was secured the whole time.

"Gather the Death Squadron. We ride for Columbus at dawn." Olaf commanded. His retinue, the Death Squadron, were known to be brutally effective. Each warlord would always have the option to keep his predecessor's retinue of guards, or replace it with his own. To honor his grandfather, who ruled the Brigade before him and had pioneered the Death Squadron, Olaf decided to keep the bloodthirsty guards with him. Olaf's grandfather, commonly known as the Redfist, usurped the throne from another warlord and since then had secured the throne for his dynasty, and now his grandchild sit upon it. And Olaf be damned if a usurper would take away what his grandfather had built.

Columbus, Mississipi
Five hours later

It took the 500-men entourage and Deathshead a few hours before they arrived in Columbus. He decided it was best to bring the whole retinue with him to instill a sense of fear and authority and to tell Lanius and his supporters they mean business. Just in case everything went south, he'd have his most trusted and most capable men with him as well. Deathshead was dressed in his grandfather's ritual combat costume. Both men were barely armoured and any sorts of weapons were not allowed during the combat to avoid giving any sides an advantage over the others.

The duel started with both men charging head on in the middle of the determined arena. Supporters from both sides, Lanius' raiders on one side and Olaf's Death Squadron on the other, observed. Both attacks were fierce, and the whole fight was a rollercoaster. At one time, Lanius would seem to be in the lead, and the next, Olaf was pounding him on the ground. The fight almost ended when Lanius caught Olaf off guard and had him in a guillotine choke for a short while, but a solid punch to the head managed to break the choke, almost knocking Lanius out. "Get the fuck up!" Olaf shouted, blood running down his nose, lips and eyes swollen. Lanius stood up but could barely keep his composure. Olaf grabbed the advantage and hurled everyting he's got at him, ending the duel as a punch landed on its mark.

A loud THUMP emanated as Lanius fell flat on the dirt. The whole crowd went dead silent, before a clamorous cheer filled the air. "Deathshead! Deathshead!" He had won the day. The unconscious Lanius was taken and put into a cage by his own men, clearly disappointed. The warbands flocked back to Olaf's side, although it was indeed a close fight. Had the punch missed its mark, everything would've been lost, but Odin clearly showed whom was the favoured.

The next day, Lanius woke to find himself in the gladiatorial pit, still baring yesterday's bruises. Thunderous clamor raged outside as the gate to his cage slowly opened, revealing the arena. Lanius limped his way to the middle, Olaf sitting right across him, on top of the balcony. "Live," said Olaf as he tossed a metallic blade that landed inches away from Lanius. "-and we'll dictate if you're still capable of carrying the title 'einherjar'," he continued.

Another gate was opened, revealing a pack of feral ghouls just meters away from Lanius' position. The sight of a prey frenzied the entire pack, howling and charging forward. Lanius grabbed the blade and did quick work of the ferals, as was expected. Before he even had the chance to retain his stamina, yet another gate was opened to reveal even more outlandish creatures. Waves and waves of wasteland beasts came, but Lanius slaughtered them all with brutal efficiency. Unbeknownst to them, the unconscious Lanius was injected with a special mixture of drugs that enhanced his physical capability. The whole thing was rigged and orchestrated by Olaf himself, seeing great potential within the man, and knowing this was the only way he could incorporate a challenger back into the fold instead of outright butchering him.

The men cheered for Lanius. He was prideful but honorable, gaining his respect for the Allfather for giving him another chance to prove himself, and restoring his men's respect. The fight was concluded after a brief, but brutal fight between Lanius and a super mutant. His face was completely smushed and disfigured from the fight, but he still managed to cut the head of the brute and claimed victory. Another wild cheer erupted from the men as Lanius carried the head of the mutant in his arm, flaunting his newly claimed trophy to all who watched.

Outskirts of Jack Edwards International Airport,AL
30 Men of the Border Defense Company would prepare the incursion into the airfield. They would have 4 MG4s, 4 Laser rifles, and 19 FALS. They would line up in a firing line, and would alert the ghouls. The group of 30 Ghouls wouch charge them, and the MG4s would rip into the horde, killing 5. The Laser Rifles would take the next turn, blasting 4 to dust. The FALS would spread out, and unleash lead into the ghouls. They would kill 3, and the ghouls would kill 2 Men. The Mg4 position on the right would open up with his entire mag, killing 7 ghouls. The left position would open fire at them, killing 2. The ghouls kill 3 more men, then the FALs and Laser rifles open up, killing the remaining 8 ghouls. They start to loot the base, finding 1 Vertibird, 3 Laser rifles, 20 M16s,4 Machine Gun Turrets, and 20 full suits of Combat armor (Thought i was gonna say power armor didn't you, HAHAHAHA). They then start to fortify the base, and they radio for step two to begin.

30 Minutes later, foley beach express bridge
The group of 20 moves up the Toll booth of the Bridge, they clear out 5 ghouls without incident. They bring up 20 Construction workers to scrap the metal from the cars, and they bring up 2 brahmin carts, Both hold fortifications. They will both be used to carry down the metal later.







Territory changes, I gain the Airport right above my nation, and i get the foley beach express, nothing else.

Suffolk

The Citizens of Suffolk had, after two weeks, come to somewhat accept their new Norfolk leaders. At least, they stopped taking potshots at Norfolk soldiers from windows anymore. The surviving population was slowly being integrated into the State, but already some sought to expedite the process.

Jacob Malcom was a man of Eighteen, who'd spent his hole life in Suffolk. When the Battle for Suffolk began, he'd been off at the family farm on the city outskirts, but had returned when news of the battle reached them. Jacob returned to a city in repair, with many buildings and streets damaged. Norfolk settlers moved by in big brahmin carts, taking up the homes of dead Suffolk citizens or just claiming land in general. The Malcom family farm had been failing recently, and Jacob was hoping he'd have a chance to pick a profession to make the family more money. His hopes of that seemed to die with the city.

As he walked along the cracked pavement, he passed a store front. Plastered on the glass, was a poster.



Jacob Malcom never signed up for anything as fast in his life as he did then.

---

Hickory

Private Rickman watched as the Mayor of Hickory handed over the ceremonial key to the town to Colonel Abbott, signifying the peaceful annexation of Hickory. The town had long been friendly to Norfolk, with the two nations having long time trade links. When the 5th Regiment was on its way south to assist the 1st in the conquest of the south, they passed through Hickory.

The Colonel and the Mayor debated for a long while, but eventually came to an agreement for Hickory's peaceful annexation. The former Mayor, a man named Andrew Duke, would become the Military Governor for Hickory with the ceremonial rank of Colonel, leaving the already existing city government intact as to ensure a peaceful transition. Overall it was a win win for both parties, and now the 6th Infantry marched through the streets of Hickory as heroes. Rickman marched, his boots hitting the pavement with a smile on his face as he was showered with flowers from citizens above.

They'd stay in Hickory for the week to rest and prepare, and soon they'd move out to sweep up the rest of Virginia.

Fair Oaks Ranch & Country Club, Front Entrance

Captain Beauregard looked over the assembled army excitedly. Overnight the esteemed 1st Ranger Company had arrived along with his messenger. The messenger had brought back with him an assignment from HQ that they were to immediately head out to destroy a Lakelurk nest just over the border. They were to meet up with the sheriff of Canyon Lake to organize an attack on the damn mutants and if it went well the northern villages would be annexed. Now this was a golden opportunity to prove himself worthy of his promotion. He and the captain of the company had just finished organizing their troops and a grey column stretched out in front of them ready for action.

"Alright men! We'll be marching up Highway 10 and then making a turn on the 46 before walking straight to Canyon Lake!," shouted Beauregard while getting up on his horse, "I'm not gonna tolerate any lollygagging from here on out men! Move out!"

---

Outskirts of the City of Von Ormy pop. 1,020

Colonel Paul Octave Herbert, or P.O. for short, diligently walked overseeing the organized rank and files of the Ranger Companies. Gathered next to the walled city were 240 infantry men, 120 dragoons, and 60 men from the Support Corps. For the most part they looked well enough. Their grey uniforms were in good order and all had their protective half-masks and metal helmets. Their rifles were in prime condition locked and loaded ready to fire. Now to give their orders.

"A'ight boys! I hope y'ouse forgive me for givin' my opinion but I'm sick and tired of these damn Nuka-Breakers comin' over here and plunderin' and theavin' whatever they damn well please. Now what we're gonna do is march righchere," he yelled pointing at the horizon, "And blow the brains out over every one of them! Now which how many of y'all with me?"

Immediately a thunderous applause erupted from the troops calling out for the blood of the raiders. Men whooped and threw their helmets in the hair forgetting their hats where made out of metal. The cries of pain from those unfortunate to be hit by them caused a chuckle among their ranks but the Colonel grabbing a trumpeter's instrument and blowing out loud caused a stop to it.

"All of us'll be marchin' down Highway 35 all the way to Dilley. That shithole is around 50 miles give or take away from here. Meanin' it'll take us about three or four days to get there. During that time I better not hear any bitchin' you here! Go on now git!" With the last order the collective army began moving on eagerly to fight their future prey

---

Zelent wrote:---

Within the Borders of the NCT

Finn Hickleberry rode on his pony, named Marlon Brando, nervously next to the two policemen on their steeds. He felt quite inadequate next to them and even more so when he saw how developed this Commonwealth was. San Antonio still had ways to go when it came to modernizing. He felt more relieved now that he had company since on the way to Victoria he had been ambushed by some bandits and a giant radscorpion. Upon arrival the great city of Houston amazed him even more than the countryside since it looked far more organized than San Antonio. Reaching the city gates he hoped if this went successfully then his career as a diplomatic messenger would be set. He had signed up for it straight out of high-school hoping to earn enough money for a wedding for his sweetheart Sasha.

He remembered his family being dismayed at first hearing that he intended to marry her since she was what some would call a "negro" but he didn't give damn. She was his queen and there wasn't any sort of bigotry that would convince him that she wasn't worth the world. Hopefully because of this important mission he would receive a nice enough bonus to buy them their own home in San Antonio. All he had to do was make himself amicable to the leader of the NCT when giving him the letter.

Tupelo
Republic of Washington
The smoke billowed from the ruins of the Western Wall as Flores returned with his detachment. There were fewer that returned. All told, the First Cavalry had lost 23 troopers killed and wounded. The Tupelo Militia had lost 29 and there were at least one hundred dead civilians. The casualties had been heavy but the day was won. Flores would remain for the time being, providing additional protection while the folk rebuilt their town. He sent riders out in every direction and sent radio messages. Everyone would learn of what happened here. The riders brought with them sketches of the dead raiders for use in identification while the radio messages gave the direction in which the raiders had fled. The Government would convene over the next several days, Flores knew that to be a fact. A raid that killed more than 150 people? This would not go unanswered. Sure, the bureaucrats would fuss over the details but inevitably a force would be raised to punish the culprits. It may take a week for all the details to be worked out, but the force would be raised. And when it was, nothing would save those raiders.

Washington
Republic of Washington
Messages had filtered into Washington from all over. Memphis had reported a raid just across the river from them and they were mobilizing to deal with it. The First Cavalry had reported driving off another band of raiders near Tupelo. The Congress had also made up its mind on Kentucky. The Imperial Republic would not be allowed to exist. They had voted an hour ago. Nashville's Militia, four battalions of infantry and 4 squadrons of cavalry, would be joined by Douglas' Battalion, notarized in official records as the Fifth Infantry. This force, with two squadrons of Cavalry remaining behind to shore up the defenses of Nashville, would march for Mayfield, taking Highway 70 west to Dickson, where they would rest. They would continue their march west until they reached Camden, resting the night again before marching north along Highway 641 to Paris. This would be their last stop before entering Kentucky. Their first stop in Kentucky would be the town of Murray. After resting, or fighting, in Murray, they would march along Route 121 until they reached Mayfield. They did not anticipate much resistance along their route of march, at least not until they neared Murray. Murray was a fairly large settlement and so it stood to reason that it would have at least a token defense. The questions were what to do about Memphis and Tupelo. Both indicated raiders with substantial strength and sophistication. According to Captain Flores' reports from Tupelo, the raiders had used explosives to breach the walls of the town and had at least one heavy machine gun, managing to inflict heavy casualties on both the Town Militia and the First Cavalry. Flores had also stated that the raiders had fled to the South after the battle. Several members of the Congress, mostly those from Southern constituencies, called for a battalion of regulars to march south, to be joined by battalions of militia from the South. Some urged for two battalions. The Eastern border was peaceful. Raiders were almost non-existent and the nations that shared a border with the Republic had demonstrated no hostility towards the Republic. As such, the battalion around Atlanta wouldn't be missed, nor would some of the militia from Atlanta, Chattanooga, and Knoxville be missed. Naturally, the delegates from Atlanta, Chattanooga, and Knoxville roared with indignance at the demands being placed upon their militia. They couldn't outright REFUSE to send their troops, as that would give the Westerners the excuse to withhold their own militias should the East ever require aid. That didn't mean they couldn't kick up a lot of dust and cry out for compensation, usually in the form of votes supporting projects or measures the Easterners wanted. As painful as the process was, it was eventually decided. Two battalions of regulars would be sent south and another would march for Memphis. The South would raise their forces, to be joined by a battalion from Atlanta. All told, some 3,700 men were dedicated to the punishment of these raiders.

Nathaniel Green

To all apperances, Nate was asleep, and part of him was. But another part of him was using the communications device implanted inside his head - a piece of stolen Enclave technology from Navarro - to communicate with his superiors inside his dreams. Relaxing his mind, Nate brought up a dream-image of Augustum, then began thinking, putting his individual thoughts into correct order:

Augustum looks like Legion, feels like Legion, but does not act like Legion. To be honest, it's one of those governments that Caesar, despite his honeyed words right now, would hate more than he does the NCR, as it is an open Oligarchy - government by a few instead of one man or even the many. Despite this, they are ideologically opposed to slavery, and due to its small geographic area, they actually maintain some awareness of public opinion.

The Population, according to preliminary observations, is a shocking 140,000 people; more than one-seventh of the NCR's total number of people. This alone makes it a potential ally, and a counterweight to the 'Main' Legion. Allow me to explain; Augustum shares the Legion's aestethic and culture, yet is ideologically opposed to vital aspects of Caesar's beliefs. To be honest, the greatest obstacle to Augustum being a viable ally is not their trade relations with the Legion, but their apperance.

Now, for troubling news. The actual Legion has been detected as expanding to the north of Texas state, close to an area known as the 'Morgan Domain'. They have not sent any sizable force yet, but it's a matter of time. Note though that according to Intelligence, the Morgan Domain is also a slaving power that might ally with the Legion without Augustum's reservations.

Nathaniel felt himself getting less tired; it was time for his first day of field work. Sirs and Ma'ams? I have to wake up now. First day of paid work approaches.

The Goodman Saloon was the one business still open on this street. The fires, which ripped through the northern slums of Baton Rogue every few years, destroyed many other seedy shops just like Goodman a month ago. They'd be back though. Stores that set up here grew like weeds, killing off anything even semi-moral or ethic. Drug dens, brothels, casinos, saloons on every corner. Now that many were burnt up, patrons filled those that still stood upwards. Fistfights broke out regularly both inside and outside the bar. Bobby Smith watched one of these occur as he walked up the muddy street, if you could even call it a fight. A scrawny man in a tattered suit and a husky fellow in coveralls wrestled around in the mud, neither gaining any advantage. Eventually, their friends came over and pulled each other apart. The husky man, his beard dripping in blood, beer, and mud, declared himself victorious and returned inside with his pals. The loser briefly argued with his companions. Bobby could see him reveal his pistol from the inside of his torn jacket for a second until he was talked down into returning to the more orderly, southern side of Baton Rogue.

Bobby took wide steps across the filthy, junk strewn street before viewing it from the porch of the saloon. A man was murdered here, not too long ago. Whilst it could have been written off simply as an escalated fistfight by many, an army clerk Smith talked to at Fort Harding said witnesses saw a woman running up to the man and shooting him at close range with a pistol. It was very possibly the Gardner idiot from Donaldsonville, but he needed better evidence to get paid more.

The bar was crowded, and loud. Cigarette smoke brought an odd hue to the colorful scene of gambling and drinking that went on. Occasionally, someone would yell and shout over the noise for a friend or if they were losing at cards. In a corner, a fire door was labeled "P R I V A T E R O O M S". He quietly slipped through the crowd to the door. Thankfully, someone had stuck a piece of wood to keep the door open so he wouldn't need to find a key. Pushing inwards,he found himself in a dark, very quiet hallway. There were three doors, but the two closest were obviously serving "customers". He only needed to hear the noise to know what happened behind those doors. The third, notably farther from the others, was left wide open. Two cots were on either side of the room, each with their own locker and small endtable. On the right side, a lantern burned, its light shining off an assault rifle of decent quality. Closer inspection, its stock was clearly labeled "SUAM". What it meant, he didn't have time to think about. A crash rang out behind him.

Alexander McCain, better known by his mercenary name of "Alec Braun" and known from that as "Little Alec" due to his height, he simply left his bunk to grab up some beers from the bar. When he returned, he found a man ogling Alec's rifle in his room. He immediately dropped the beers as he grabbed for his holster. The glass shattering brought the man to his full attention, and as Bobby Smith turned around, Alec realized he left his pistol under his pillow. He quickly went to clear the distance, running straight at the man who held his fully loaded firearm. He brought about a mean right hook, and heard a distinct sound of Bobby's nose breaking. He then brought both his hands down upon the rifle, believing Smith would be in too much pain to put up a struggle for it. The exact opposite occured. Smith instead tightened his grip before using his much longer leg to bring a swift kick into Braun's gut. The smaller man went tumbling onto the tile floor, pain shooting through his back as the broken glass pierced his skin. A man with a lesser resilience and chems in their bloodstream would have been out of the fight right then and there, but Little Alec was neither, so he grabbed up a large piece of brown glass that lay next to him and came up swinging as Smith brought down the rifle to shoot. Just as the ragged piece of glass carved into Bobby Smith's cheek, a 7.62x39mm bullet tore through Little Alec's little heart, killing him instantly.

Old Oil Rig, ROB
A Group of 200 Construction workers start to build greenhouses and Water Purifiers to make clean water. Another 200 Construction Workers would work on another Oil rig. They estimate that the Modified Pumps could pump 500 Gallons of water per minute, but they can't purify it at that pace. So they will change it to do it slowly for more stable production. They reboot all electrical systems, with Fusion Cores from salvaged cars powering all essential and a few non essential programs.

fairhope Landing fleet
20 Fishing boats, carrying 30 Police, and 20 Armed Forces would stand on the boats. The boats clear out hostiles with the machine guns around the front gate of the town. They then enter the town, and preach Unity, peace, Prosperity, the Local townsfolk agree. Their militia was small, and unable to defend it longer than a few hours.

Shores Of Dauphin Island
the Boats would be transferred to a group of 20 Armed Forces (Yes, the ones on the Fairhope fleet transferred over) they would land, and move up to secure. They see that it was closed, so there are no enemies to clear. The Men cheer, and then move onto the town. They sneak into a building and set up the 4 MG4s, 1 at the front window, 1 at the back window, 1 At the top Front window, and 1 at the Back top window. the 16 others get into groups of 4 and move to the 4 windows. They catch the attention of 35 ghouls, who charge them from all angles. They open fire, killing 7 ghouls in the first volley. They reload, then unleash a second volley, killing 5 ghouls. They reload again, and lose one Soldier to a ghoul before getting mowed down. They kill 4 more, and lose another man to one of the four. They throw grenades out the windows, killing 9 more ghouls, while wounding one of their own to shrapnel. 5 Men get out with shotguns, blasting 4 Ghouls. They then lose 2 to a reaver, but then a heavy rips the reaver to pieces with his MG4. They clear up the remaining 5, capturing Dauphin Island.

(Territory Changes, I gain FairHope (JUST FAIRHOPE,NOT THE LAND AROUND IT, And I gain all of Dauphin island)

El Paso, Texas

The sun shone upon the mighty city of Augustum. Trade blossomed, and as such relations with neighboring nations and settlements prospered the city. Taxes from their peacefully, though sometimes forcefully annexed settlements played a part in the city's success as well. Caravans and merchants flooded the markets and streetways, Vigiles standing guard over their posts, and engineers working continuously to repair and modify the zeppelin. A brief but brutal encounter between the Grand City's forces and a group of super mutants that came from the west, terrorizing and pillaging the countryside, came to the point where the zeppelin had to be deployed. The super mutants' superior weaponry managed to badly damage the airship, but not before bombs were dropped on their positions, devastating and scattering what's left of their comrades.

But now, Augustum was faced with eastern threats. The addition of Sierra Blanca and nearby settlements to Augustum's expanding domain worried the confederation of minor "city-states" to the east, namely the settlements along Interstate 10. The confederation's troops threatened Augustum to cease what they deemed to be 'imperialism', which was one thing the city-states were very much against. The Triarchy might've considered their wish for independency, but not when one of their settlements were reportedly attacked and most of its settlers kidnapped. Sierra Blanca was attacked by what the survivors claimed to be "Van Horn's soldiers". Van Horn itself was apart of the same confederation that threatened the Grand City. Both Sierra Blanca and Van Horn were known for their historical disputes over control of the I-10.

When Sierra Blanca was annexed by Augustum, Van Horn saw the great opportunity to unleash old grudges and punish Sierra Blanca for cooperating with imperialists. Survivors of the attack claimed the soldiers did this "as a message to the imperialists of the west", further saying "this will keep happening if you don't listen to us." When news reached the ears of the Grand Senate, everyone was infuriated. An attack on one of the Grand City's subjects was very much unacceptable, to say the least. A joint legio of one Vigiles centuria, two Hastati centuriae, and two Numeri centuriae were raised in response, led by the most senior primus whom would later be given the title praefectus. They march for war.

West Memphis
The Battle raged on. The Settlers had retreated to their alamo, and old shopping strip that was now a fortified position within the settlement.Raiders had to took cover and exchange shots to not get caught in the Machine gun Fire.
Dobrynya, a skilled Bogatyr warrior of the Tsardom, knew they had to break through the wall.There was only one thing that could be done that woudn't sacrifice many of his fellow raiders.He yelled in russian to his compatriots.
"Give me covering fire!"
The Raiders began to fire, providing cover for the warrior to run to the wall relatively unscathed, allowing him to place the dynamite pack, lighting it up and running for cover again. As he ran to cover, a bullet caught his back, forcing him to jump into cover. Luckily, the armor had absorbed the damage, and soon a explosion was heard. Several settlers who were unlucky to be in that part of the wall were flinged away by the detonation.
Once again, the raiders charged into combat, shouting their battle cries.

Canyon Lake, pop.1,276

Upon arriving at the entrance for Canyon Lake, Captain Beauregard and his retinue were greeted by the Mayor and Sheriff of Canyon Lake. The sheriff's five deputies were standing back looking over the collected forces of San Antonio is tense anticipation. The company itself seemed energetic despite marching for a day and a half. The mayor was a mustachioed well fed man evident due to his noticeable pot belly. He explained to Captain Beauregard that about a five months ago a pair of Lakelurks were spotted by some fishermen but it escaped before they could kill them. Then starting a week ago, there were a surge in sightings and even some sixteen civilians got killed. One of the deputies then did some scouting only to find a huge nest of about fifty Lakelurks on the other side of the lake. The town naturalists had come up up with a theory that the earlier pair were mates and the nest was their matured offspring. They had finally decided to send a message to be annexed by San Antonio in exchange for the extermination of the Lakelurks because most of the townsfolk were two sheltered to handle killing mutants. Spring Branch and Pipe Creek later begrudgingly agreed because frankly they were two small to say no.

"It's actually quite convenient you arrived when you did since one of my deputies actually just came back from luring them here," the mayor nervously stated pulling at his collar, "We were hoping y'all could just stand at the battlements on our wall and shoot them up once they came. I think I can actually see some in the distance."

"You WHAT!" bellowed Captain Beauregard. "Sonfabitch! Ghost Riders! Head around the lake to find their nest and burn it! Everyone else head inside and find a place to shoot them." He turned to the mayor snarling at his face, "If we live through this I'm gonna hang you by the balls you hear!"

The men scrambled to get inside the gate but by the time a group of thirty Lakelurks arrived running towards them it was too late for two dozen or so men. The ones who were trapped outside sought refuge in any nearby abandoned buildings throwing themselves through the open windows or climbing to the top of any tall structures and trees. An initial group of nine Lakelurks ganged up one one unfortunate soul who didn't find shelter in time; he was promptly ripped limb from limb. Revenge came swift, however, as his killers were mowed down under a hail of bullets. A baker's dozen came running straight to the gate bashing the sheet metal with their scaled fists before the cohorts on the top swiftly executed them. Farther away some Lakelurks used their sonic shrieks to knock off three of the more exposed cohorts before promptly killing them and retreating, corpses in hand.

"Fucking dammit!," cussed Captain Beauregard. He had taken a spot on top of a sentry tower overlooking the gate and even manged to shoot two of the mutants dead. He felt furious that he had let four of the best troops in San Antonio get killed just because some dimwit of a mayor didn't bother telling him he was already in the middle of a plan. He only hoped his Ghost Riders were having better luck then them. "Alright men, gather up and start chasing after 'em! We're not gonna let some overgrown turtles defile our comrades' corpses!"

On the other side of the lake the 6th Cavalry Squadron had found the Lakelurk's lair. Centered on a clearing it was a makeshift dome made up of branches and small trees right next to the lake. The sounds of squirming and hisses could faintly be heard inside. Silently the dragoons moved their horses to form a half circle and fired their carbines. Bloodcurdling screams of the dying Lakelurks could be heard inside and before they knew it fourteen of the survivors came rushing out hungry for man-meat. The commander ordered them to retreat and once they were some distance away from the lakeside the formed a cantabrian circle to keep themselves from being shot with the sonic shrieks. One by one the Lakelurks fell unable to get a clear shot at their moving targets. Once they were confirmed dead, the dragoons dismounted and marched to the nest breaking its walls apart. They smashed and stomped on any eggs they could find before exhausting themselves from the effort. Once they double-checked for any survivors they began returning to Canyon Lake to report on their astounding success.

By dusk, Despot Nathaniel Starbuck had arrived on the front gates of Canyon Lake where he was immediately welcomed inside. He was escorted to the Town Hall where Captain Beauregard was waiting for him drinking a bottle of his favorite whiskey while giving nasty looks to the mayor every so often. Starbuck greeted the mayor making sure the handshake he gave was damn near a stranglehold. After some chitchat they walked to the mayor's office to discuss the terms of annexation. Fortunately for Starbuck, the Canyon Lake-Spring Branch-Pipe Creek Alliance didn't have any leverage in the matter so they had to agree to anything he said including providing a twenty-one men "mini-platoon" representative of the three newly incorporated settlements. By an hour's time the treaty was signed and a small celebration was held in honor of the Despotate's expansion.

---

The Independent Village of Pearsall, pop. 604

The combined forces of San Antonio camped outside the village of Pearsall. The village had long been friendly with San Antonio often being a resting spot for travelers and they were very much grateful that they were finally going to destroy the Nuka-Breakers who have long terrorized the small community. They were around a day or two's march away from Dilley and once they were able to spot it they would rest again to get in fighting shape. Not a single one of them knew of the bloodshed that was sure to come.

Skarten wrote:West Memphis
The Battle raged on. The Settlers had retreated to their alamo, and old shopping strip that was now a fortified position within the settlement.Raiders had to took cover and exchange shots to not get caught in the Machine gun Fire.
Dobrynya, a skilled Bogatyr warrior of the Tsardom, knew they had to break through the wall.There was only one thing that could be done that woudn't sacrifice many of his fellow raiders.He yelled in russian to his compatriots.
"Give me covering fire!"
The Raiders began to fire, providing cover for the warrior to run to the wall relatively unscathed, allowing him to place the dynamite pack, lighting it up and running for cover again. As he ran to cover, a bullet caught his back, forcing him to jump into cover. Luckily, the armor had absorbed the damage, and soon a explosion was heard. Several settlers who were unlucky to be in that part of the wall were flinged away by the detonation.
Once again, the raiders charged into combat, shouting their battle cries.

The wall of the Alamo was breached but it was a small one. The defenders raced to seal it but the raiders were quick. The first raiders were through the breach with clubs, bayonets, rifle butts, and swords. The defenders fought back fiercely, the militia with their bayonets, the townsfolk with whatever they had on hand. Many townsfolk and militia were still on the wall, firing on the raiders as they funneled into the hole in the wall. The size of the breach evened the odds. Few raiders could get through at a time, allowing the defenders to swarm those that could. The raiders, however, wore armor that fended off the blows of blunt objects. Against bayonets and close range rifle shots, however, the armor was virtually useless. Sergeant Miller thrust his rifle forward and up, sending his bayonet deep into the abdomen of a raider, tearing flesh and organs. No amount of narcotics could save a man from a punctured lung. Another raider was behind this one, pulling his cleaver from the skull of an unfortunate cobbler. There was enough distance between them that Miller could put a bullet between his eyes. But even as that one dropped, yet another raider appeared, brandishing his rifle as a club. Miller raised his own rifle in an upward sweep, seeking to knock his attacker off balance. There was a loud crack as the weapons collided and both men stumbled. Who recovered first didn't matter as the raider's head was smashed by a rock and Miller found himself on the ground, fighting desperately to keep a knife from being plunged into his heart. The raider was stronger. Miller could feel the blade part his skin and slide between his ribs, through his heart, and into his lung. The raider moved to twist the blade and then his head exploded and the world went black.

The fighting raged on and the ground grew slick with blood. The raiders, hopped up on chems, frantically smashed and stabbed and hacked and slashed at everything in front of them. The militia suddenly pulled away as an authoritative voice shouted, "FORM TWO RANKS!" The surviving militiamen formed into two ranks, each a dozen men long. "GET OUT OF THE WAY, FOLKS!" The towns people didn't need an explanation. They ran to the sides, quick to get out of the way. "FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!" Three volleys of rifle fire surged into the clumped raiders, tearing into flesh and stone. The townsfolk gathered their courage again, those on the wall pouring fire into the flanks of the raiders. Those in the courtyard who still had their rifles joined. Those who didn't collected things to throw. The militia's disciplined fire was soon replaced by rapid and intermittent reports as 300 firearms discharged as rapidly as their users could fire them.

Nathaniel Green

Nathaniel would be working on repairing the Zeppelin; due to his natural clumsiness, he had selected the heavier, more grueling work. And he was actually doing well on that, too. Heavy loads were something he was used to, and getting paid for lifting them added some icing to the metaphorical cake. But now, it seemed as though he had selected the job that was least conductive to his plans; such was his luck. And by that, news of Van Horn's aggression had not reached the Airship workers for some time, until Nate had signed the contract pledging himself to the repair crews for as long as the airship remained unrepaired. And worse, the airship used Hydrogen instead of Helium, and with his luck...

Either way, at least he had a few men and women that provided him information in exchange for, well, the only thing he can provide freely; his...umm...physique. Yes, it was a bit skeevy, but info was info.

Vulpes Inculta, frumentarii of Caesers Legion, and trusted follower of Caeser himself, watched with glee as his men took to the city of Amarillo. The fighting had lasted long, but the fools in the city seemed not to care for the Legion scouts on their border until it was too late. Now his Legionaries, apart of the X Detachment sent east by Caeser under the Command of his loyal servant Vulpes, had taken control of the city and the so called "Morgan Domain". The Detachment included close to 15,000 men, including a Elite Guard of 400 men under Vulpes direct command.

The red banner of the Legion was raised above the city. All were taken slaves; the men were either killed, forced into hard labor or incorporated into the Legion, the women became servants and the Children would become indoctrinated into the Legion.

Vulpes sat down, he'd taken one of the finest and least damaged houses in Amarillo for himself. It would prove to serve as a fine headquarters for his Detachment in the east. He'd have some of the men repair it later, but now he needed to get to planning. Texas was ripe with people for enslavement, and resources to be plundered to fuel the Legion. Tensions were growing high between the Legion and a new upstart on the coast, the New California Republic, and Vulpes had a feeling the two might come to blows sooner or later. Conquering Texas would only serve to strengthen the Legion. But that would come later, for now, Vulpes could enjoy the sight of his Legionaries as they conquered yet another city.

More, were most certainly to come.

Near the Pentagon, Arlington

“Can we go ahead and fry them already?” an Enclave trooper said over helmet comms, silent to the Regulators in front of them, before being nudged slightly by the end of one of her comrades’ laser rifles. “I am Captain Augustus Autumn of the First Infantry of the United States Army,” Captain Autumn said, “Part of the Enclave, the proper government of the United States of America. You are an unlawful, unregulated militia outside of Federal jurisdiction. For this you are being detained. Come quietly or we will kill all of you.”

The War Room, Site R

NEVERMORE.

That was the pretentious motto that adorned the emblem of the Raven Rock Mountain Complex, the black raven spreading its wings like the bald eagle on the old Great Seal. The emblem stared down at the round table the top military minds of the Enclave sat at. “Mr. President, our current greatest strategic threat is within our borders. We just need to fire-bomb this so-called ‘Dickville’, and the greatest concentration of mutants within a hundred miles will be gone!” General Jack D. Ripper said, throwing up his arms extravagently, “Probably kill the middlemen who’ve been skimming our weapons to the mutants, to boot.”

“That does not address the root of the problem, Jack,” General Buck Muffley said, chewing on the end of his pen, resting one arm on the table, “The root is that we have a traitor within our ranks. Before we can decide what to do about the mutants in Dickville, we need to root out the traitor first and foremost.” President Richard “Dick” Richardson, Junior, leaned back, staring at the holographic map of the greater D.C. area the table projected to just below eye level. His father would have known what to do. Junior was an economist first and foremost, he was comfortable rebuilding society. But faced with a traitor in the ranks… “My men have narrowed it down to 5 men. Major Alan Hanks. Colonel James Cannon. Brigadier Generals Ted Baker and Brock Baker. And finally, Doctor Edgar White. We are working on it.” FBI Director Lewis Dodgson said smoothly, adjusting his tie slightly. Dodgson had been in charge of the FBI even under President Richardson’s father for some years. “Well, work on it harder, director!” Muffley barked, slamming his hand down on the table, “We cannot afford to have a compromise at this stage.” “Please, Lew, get it resolved quickly and quietly,” the President spoke finally, “We can’t afford to make a stir so close to election season.” “Understood, Mister President.”

Alleyway, Dickville, Washington, D.C.

The alleyway was filled with the grime of a nuclear war, a century-and-a-half’s neglect, and a further decade of people living by it. It was not exactly the place for a businesslike meetup. Which made it perfect for Agent Jim Hammer to meet with his contact. “I don’t figure you’ve come to me for my mug?” Roy Phillips asked, gravely voice typical of ghouls. Phillips was an Police Officer before the Great War, and had stuck around in the ruins of D.C. afterwards. He had something of a reputation as a lawmaker in Dickville, in the no-go zones even the police Protectrons didn’t go. “No, Mister Phillips,” Hammer said, smoking a cigarette, “I come to you for aid in an FBI investigation.” “Must be a pretty big investigation if you’re comin’ to a mutie like me.” Phillips said, a slight grin on his rotting face. “It is. And because you… well, you have a sense of justice.” “So what’s the problem?” “The Gun Runners have mysteriously acquired Enclave weapons.” “Ooh, corruption, spicy,” Phillips said, “Why do you need me?” “We want you to get close to the Gun Runners. Learn all you can about their supplier. And most of all, keep Enclave guns out of Dickville’s hands. More advanced weapons means only more bloodshed. We’d cut off their shipments, but Dickville depend on caravans for food, and if we tamper with the food supply-” “The whole place goes to shit, real fast,” Phillips said, nodding. “And the Gun Runners will be the primary suppliers of that shitstorm. Mister Phillips, I am not suggesting you align with our cause, but I implore you to look into it for Dickville’s sake if nothing else.” “Don’t worry, spook,” Roy Phillips said, adjusting his hat and straightening his trench coat, “This shamus is on the case.”

Thomas Point. Ruins of Annapolis, Maryland

The Vertibird flew in high to keep out of reach of even the most well-armed of enemies. An ironic reflection of the pre-war world’s nap-of-the-earth flying. Not that Captain Daisy Whitman minded flying above the clouds. It looked more pristine up here, like you could almost forget the wasteland the world had become and just drift over the white tops of the clouds. The breaks in the clouds that showed land, the land didn’t even look that bad. Whitman figured the world had looked much the same before the War. More green, probably. So much more green, stretching beyond the eye could possibly see…

“Captain, we’re almost over the drop zone,” her co-pilot interrupted her daydreaming. She cracked a grin and turned around to face the fireteam of Army Reservists in the back. “Alright, boys, we’re about to set down. Buckle up, might get a bit bumpy.” “Understand, Captain,” Sergeant Arthur Locke said, turning back to his men and ensuring his helmet was properly fastened. “Alright, Rangers, we’re going in. Remember, birds’ on a touch and go, so we’ll be on our own in the city. Just a recon run, we’re only goin’ in if we’re sure it’s safe. Understand?” “Sir, yes, sir!” His fireteam barked out as the Vertibird rumbled down.

It touched down and the doors on the sides opened. “Go get ‘em, tigers!” Daisy encouraged as the Rangers disembarked. With a roar, the Vertibird and its partner lifted off, leaving the squad of 10 Rangers to move into the ruins of Annapolis. First stop? The Coast Guard station just up the road from Thomas Point.

ZAX Chamber, Site R

ACCESS ENCLAVE DATABASE: USER/ JohnHenryEden
PASSWORD: *************

PROCESSING…

PASSWORD ACCEPTED

ACCESS “Constitution Of The United States”
SEARCH “Announces Candidacy For President”
ACCESS “John F. Kennedy's Announcement as Candidate for U.S. President, January 2, 1960”

TERMINATE LINK TO ENCLAVE DATABASE.

BEGIN RADIO BROADCAST.

TTS “Good afternoon, America the magnificent, this is your Vice President, John Henry Eden. I’ve come to talk to you today about something very close to my heart: the Presidency. The Presidency is the most important office in the whole of the Free World. I have taken it upon myself to verse myself in the issues that trouble you, America. And how many there are! From the secessionists that trouble our free democracy, to the unstable economy, to the very water we drink from! Which is why I speak to you today, America. I come to you today to announce my candidacy for the office of the President of the United States. I can assure you, sweet America, that if I am so duly elected into office, that we will overcome the issues facing us. For years, Enclave scientists have been working on cleaning the water of the Potomac. The fine men and women of Project Purity must be supported, dear America, so we may drink freely, so our thirst may finally, and truly, be quenched. I believe it is the Enclave’s duty to reclaim the United States. The other parties that think themselves nations will be negotiated with, of course, but in the end, if they do not peaceably rejoin, they must be brought back into our great Union with the righteous fury that so inspired our leaders during our first great Civil War. Thank you for listening, America. Before we must part, I am so inclined to share an inspirational quote: ‘Let us recollect that peace or war will not always be left to our option; that however moderate or unambitious we may be, we cannot count upon the moderation, or hope to extinguish the ambition of others.’ This has been John Henry Eden, your Vice President. And for now, we must depart."

TERMINATE RADIO BROADCAST.

Murray
Imperial Republic

3,960 Washington men stood outside the town of Murray, their first major obstacle on the road into the Imperial Republic. The cavalry had reported a force of about 80 men inside, possibly with a contingent of local conscripts. Colonel Douglas had received a temporary promotion to Commander and had placed his four field guns a kilometer from the town before ordering his battalion and one of the militia battalions to advance. The field guns fired into the town as the soldiers bounded forward. Douglas wanted so desperately to be at the head but, alas, it was not possible. Not in his position. He ordered his cavalry to spread out along the road leading out of Murray. No one would leave this town to warn Mayfield.

Sergeant Juan Bennett slid to a halt next to a building on the corner of Glendale and South 12th. That's what the worn street sign five meters behind him said, anyways. The townsfolk didn't appear to be happy with the invasion, taking potshots at him from buildings down the road. A bullet ricocheted off the corner he was hiding behind and he moved a bit further behind it. He'd been in the Army for seven years. This was the first time someone had managed to land a shot THAT close to him. He quickly crossed himself and poked his head around the corner. He could see several figures moving about in an old hospital across the street from him. He turned to look over his shoulder and shouted, "FRANK!" Private Luis Frank ran up to him. "YES SERGEANT!" Bennett pointed to the hospital and said, "I want to lay down suppressive fire on the building. I'll take the rest of the section and clear it. CORPORAL STONE!" Stone was next to Bennett a short few seconds later. "I want you to plant your machine gun on that corner next to us. On my signal, they'll create a crossfire zone. We'll take the rest of the squad around and clear the building with grenades and rifle fire."
"Roger, Sergeant."
"Alright, move." Stone ran back to his section, set up behind some rubble across the street. Bennett waited a moment until Stone's gunner was set up before he raised his hand, palm facing forward, arm fully extended. The Army's signal for Make Ready. He then brought it down swiftly, signaling to the two machine guns to open fire. The chatter of the weapons was deafening. Bennett swung his arm forward, indicating for the squad to follow him. The machine guns ceased fire for only a few seconds, allowing the squad to cross the road without getting killed. The soldiers ran up to the building that housed the problematic defenders and Bennett chucked a grenade through a nearby window. The bomb exploded and Stone kicked the door open. The squad rushed inside, moving room to room, shooting anything that moved that wasn't in a Republican uniform. A few minutes later, the squad exited and Bennett signaled for the machine gunners to rejoin them.

Several blocks away, 3rd Company, 2nd Nashville Militia had found itself pinned down by determined resistance from the Murray High School. It appeared that it was here that the enemy had chosen to make their stand. It was a good position, as far as Captain Jerry Mueller was concerned. Defensible, it had plenty of cover for the defenders while offering little to any would-be attackers. Mueller had sent a runner back to get some heavy weapons, but he figured that was unlikely to meet with much success. Much to his surprise, his runner returned with a mortar team in tow. "Well shit, I guess God does exist, after all," he said before directing the mortar team to lob some bombs onto the school.

As 3rd Company prepared for an assault, the other companies were making their way to the High School. Most of the defenders were local civilians, men and woman, even children, who put up determined, often suicidal resistance. They didn't surrender. Every building had to be cleared with grenades and gunfire. Casualties were mounting and Colonel Douglas was forced to commit the other battalions. Against such overwhelming force, the town would be unable to stand. He even started to bring the artillery forward, positioning it in a field several hundred meters away. The guns roared to life, joined by several mortars in pelting the school. Finally, the regulars stormed the building. For several minutes there explosions, sporadic bursts of gunfire, and screams. Then everything was silent.

The battle had lasted just over five hours and had killed almost 200 Republican soldiers. Some 350 others had been wounded. They had counted the corpses they could find and it added up to almost 2,000. Men and women, young and old. With the battle ended and daylight fading, they made camp just outside the town.

V.T.S. Fountainhead, Washington D.C.
Paris Boxer stood with one foot perched atop the guard rail of her ship, looking over the cityscape of the once great capital. She had heard the broadcast of this so called 'Vice President Eden', and decided to find herself some amusement in promoting herself among the Enclave's ranks. She had worked with them in the past of course, trading medical supplies for some of their records and such, but overall they were practically unknowns to each other. She laughed as she stepped from the side rail to the inside of the bridge her Assaultron bowing to her as it moved out of the way. She flicked switches, activating her loudspeakers that lined the outside hull of her ship, and at the same time began transmission across the airwaves.

"Greetings people of the Capital Wasteland, People of America, People of the Enclave, by whatever name you choose to call yourself. I am Paris Boxer, and I am here to announce my candidacy for the Presidency of the United States of America, and her Enclave. I am not here to whisper sweet nothings in your ear like Richardson or Eden, while reaching into your pockets with their spare hand. Oh no, I come to you, as a woman who knows the real world beyond the beautiful bunkers, and ornate offices of Raven Rock, a woman who has rolled up her own sleeves to work for what she has in life. Myself, and my fellow Atlas Free Traders know the whys of your economic failings, why those at the top sit with everything while Dickville is a cesspit of mutation and disease!

Your leaders! They fear hard work, they fear moving anything beyond a pen or a plasma rifle! When they need resources for their 'army' is it them or you who must pay the sweat of your brow to maintain it?! I am talking about Taxes dear America, the vile sickness that Richardson and Eden flaunt as progress toward the return of our Great Nation. A broken system that lets them take from you, the people, to enrich their weapons makers, their cushioned generals. I however, I say no more! Let us not strangle what little wealth this nation has left! The Free Market may move slowly, but it moves with the greatest of wisdom. Do not be fooled by their claims that there will be raiders and chaos, for those are simply lies the same as Stalin or Chang told their people oh so many years ago! I promise you this America, I will make this country great again, and I will do it without needing to take a single dollar of your hard earned money!

This has been Paris Boxer, and I thank you for your time."

New Iberia, Louisiana
The soldiers of 1st Company, 10th Battalion marched down the streets of the city in the little bayou kingdom of 6,000 residents, arriving at the front steps of the city hall, they were greeted by the King of the land and his inner court, watched on by hundreds of town residents. Officating things on the Commonwealth side was the Battalions commander on behalf of the Preisdent, he shook hands with the King, presented him with a document as the King took a seat at a pre set table. Withdrawing a fountain pen, he signed off on the document, and his personal trumpeter declared
"King Roy, accepts this proclamation, thus joining the Kingdom to the National Commonwealth of Texas. King Roy, is now to be referred to in all matters as Governor Roy."'
Some matters continued, to much fain fair in the city. Finally prehaps,they were safe from the outside. Only time could tell. Meanwhile, the local militia was divided, of about 180 members, 112 decided to take up enlistment offers, they'd be sent off to Commonwealth army bootcamp near Galveston, where they would train in the same conditions and to the same standards as traditional NCT troops

Houston, Texas, The Presidency
Briefed ahead of time, President Maddox was well prepared to receive the letter from the San Antonian emissary. The emissary was stopped however, a couple blocks from the Presidency, where he was asked to relinquish his weapons, in good faith. They were returned promptly after his meeting with the President. The President met the young man, shaking his hand, and asking the necessary polities, meanwhile ordering his staff to see to it that his water and provisions be resupplied, and that his horse be taken care of to the Presidential stable. In the meantime, the young man was free to stroll around the area as he pleased, in which he would find the hallmarks of a nearly modernized civilization. Streets were bustling, as people of all walks of life made their ways about the city. On many streets, a trolley car system was in full operation, serving most areas within the Sam Houston circle, while others rode on bicycles or horseback, street vendors lined some of the side streets, with a couple of markets within inner Houston, while other stores, workshops and restaurants to be found throughout the area. Patrolling police officers, who were on good terms with the citizens, and soldiers walked around the city. If the young man so pleased, he could take a short walk down to the local city parks, or to the city zoo, which was fully stocked with various radscorpians, Yao gaui, mole rats, nightstalkers, bloatflys, and other wasteland creatures. These places had plenty of visitors, being a Saturday in downtown Houston. At a couple theaters, the man could go and catch a movie, either a pre-war one, or a newer production which were usually more popular. If live entertainment was his fix, there was a really good ghoul Jazz band from Beaumont and then a burlesque show also on tour playing at The Lone Star a live-performance location and bar just a few blocks from the Presidency. He could come back to the presidency whenever, but the letter was promised to be done in a couple hours.

Zion Crossroads, Virginia

The small army of the Regulators had finally finished gathering, after the end of the long trek from Richmond to Zion they now had a small force of 345 Regulators. Though most were those that were from patrols where they didn't see much action they were still well trained killers of evil and those that stood against law, order, and justice. Head Regulator Garner was in the front of them all, his scoped hunting rifle resting on his shoulder as he looked ahead at a sign that showed Charlottesville was not that far away from where they were. He turned to face his comrades before heading forward to battle, "Friends, Brothers, Sisters, Sons and Daughters. We are currently about to go off and face those that believe that our ways of..justice and good will are not cut out for protect the people of this region. They dare go and claim control, this is exactly what those from the past before never wanted to have happened, that is why they created the Council. But it seems even with the council we must fight against our own flesh and our own blood, it pains me to say it but what must be done must be done."

He turned away from the group and once again began walking down the road, one by one the regulators began to follow Garner like they have done so to get to Zion. But now they were heading off to a fight where even if they were their brothers, they betrayed them for something darker than what they could ever really want. But they just couldn't bring themselves to speak out the words, not like there was any to say in the first place.

Charlottesville, A few hours later

Heavy gunfire was being exchanged as Regulators were shooting back at the New Regulators and their conscripted settlers, it was obvious how reluctant the people were when fighting. Barely hitting anything, only getting the occasional lucky hit in. but the New Regulators were just as deadly as they were, taking excellent shots to those that were unlucky enough to not be in cover. Garner was just sitting there slowly picking off the New Regulators, he gave expressed orders to try their best not to harm the civilians even those with weapons for they weren't doing this on their own will.

"I need you four to flank around south of here, cross the river and hit those bastards from behind. Take as many as you need, but only up to twenty for we need them to believe we are focusing all our resources here. I wish you boys luck and try not to get killed out there." The four nodded and began making their way south, going from cover to cover as to not get killed from pot shots and lucky hits. Taking with them a few men from certain areas until they got up to fifteen and quickly made their way south to the river, once they crossed it they hoped that once they flank around and hit the town from the rear it will all be over.

Near the Pentagon, Arlington

It was times like this Fairchild hated the most, being told to come with a random bunch of strangers and if he did something they didn't want then they would all be dead. He sighed and Neebs hugged Fairchild tighter, "A-Are we gonna be okay sir?" Fairchild smiled and patted the Regulator's head, "We will be alright, just stay calm and stay with us. Alright Captain Autumn, lead the way....and just sayin' we are anything but unlawful, we've killed raiders, slavers, and other evil doers around these parts. Land south of here, it's mostly clean of raiders and those that harm the weak, we are simply doing the right thing....but I guess here we are now, we are ready for you to take us then."

Mayfield
Imperial Republic

The Battle of Murray had had a noticeable impact on the Imperial Republic, Douglas noted. He had thought that their resolve would have steeled, especially after the casualties that had been inflicted. However, a very different story was playing out. Hundreds of people streamed out of Mayfield, flying white flags and begging to be allowed to live. The troops showed them to the rear. However, Mayfield was a large town and the people that were coming out were still a minority. Most of the populace appeared steadfast in their intent to resist. He turned to the battalion commanders and said, "Bring up the mortars. We're going to bomb this town into submission or into the ground, whichever comes first. We will NOT have a repeat of Murray." The officers nodded and went to their respective formations. They had Mayfield entirely encircled. There would be no escape for those inside the town and Douglas gave the order.

The mortars were devastating in their effect. Each mortar was firing a 10.6 pound bomb with a blast radius of about 30 meters, capable of killing anyone within that distance. Each battalion had six mortars. The soldiers could see the bombs landing and could hear the explosions a few seconds later. The shelling continued for almost three hours, until the mortars ran out of ammunition. Reluctantly, Douglas sent in the infantry. The battle raged on until nearly dusk. Another 300 men died and more than 400 were wounded but Mayfield fell. That's all that the Commander in Chief would care about, anyways. The mission was accomplished. The Imperials were destroyed, broken. Their people now a part of the Republic of Washington. Douglas had done his job. Now it was up to the politicians.

Washington
Republic of Washington

Frank sat in his office. Across from him sat the Secretary of Defense, Brian Young, and the Secretary of the Interior, Stefanie Barstow. They had been joined by the spokesperson for the Congress, Davidson County Delegate Jay Ashley. A number of issues had been brought to his attention. Brian was concerned about the growing expense of training scattered militias, Stefanie was concerned about the roads, desperately in need of repair, and Jay was concerned about where the money for everything was going to come from. "The militia is just too expensive to maintain like this," Brian said, "Every year we have to scatter the army to try and reach 166 militia units, most of whom are scattered over hell's half-acre and some of whom have never even seen their heavier equipment. I believe that we are overworking them and our regulars. A better way is to simply make the regular army larger and relegate the militia to what it should have been doing all along: local defense. It will cut down on costs to the treasury and free up funds for Stefanie's roads."
"Excuse me, Secretary, but are you suggesting that we eliminate the militia system?" Delegate Ashley sounded deeply concerned, as he was obligated to. Under the current system, he could call on any part of the country to send him aid and he would receive it. Now he wouldn't have that guarantee.
"Yes, Delegate Ashley. I am. The militia system, as it is right now, is unaffordable. We cannot fund it and build roads at the same time. What would help your constituents more? Having a few people know how to use their rifles better than most or having jobs? The jobs won't be there without the roads and the roads will make the movement of troops easier."
"But think about what you are saying, Secretary. You would be denying our defenders valuable training."
"You can use the veteran militiamen to train them, then. All I know is that the numbers aren't adding up. In another decade, we'll be bankrupt. This is the only option, Mister President. We don't have a choice."
Frank looked at Stefanie and said, "You've been awful quite, Miss. What's your take on the situation?"
Stefanie looked at him and said, "It's quite simple, Frank. I can't afford to build roads while the Militia continues to suck funds."
Jay looked at them both with raised eyebrows. "Never thought I'd see the day when those two agreed on something."
"Jay, I need you to be honest. Will Congress support the expansion of the regular army and repeal of the National Militia Act?"
"It may take some doing and will probably require more than a few deals to be made that will mar our souls for eternity but in the end, yes. I think they will."
"Good. I'd like a bill on the floor by next month."

Nathaniel Green

It was only after the airship had been repaired and the contract to help fix it ended that Nathaniel found out about the complete annexation of Amarillio and the Morgan Domain by the Legion, and he knew that his mission was endangered by his' remaining Augustum. Thankfully, lifting up steel bars by himself and doing the work of three people had gotten him 2 Aureus, the equivalent of 200 caps, alongside his 30 Denarii. Judging his bad luck to have temporarily passed due to the Legion conquering the Morgan Domain faster than expected, Nate decided to spend his money on trying to equip himself better so that he can be a passable caravan guard.

His first stop was a small gunsmith with a shop sign in Latin and English; how convinient. More proof that Augustum resembled the Legion only in apperance. Entering the shop, he would pay for a 9mm and ammo...only to find that a 9mm cost one Aureus and ammo all his thirty denarii, leaving him with only one Aureus left. Just his luck, especially as it seemed that the gunsmith was looking at him as though he intended to turn bandit. What bad luck indeed. Well, it seems that in the absence of any way to prove himself an able Caravan Guard, he was going to have to stay in Augustum a while longer and find further employment. Ideally, it would have to be one that didn't risk coming into contact with heavy machinery, due to his luck.