Fallout:South The Mason MK-III IC Thread.

[Versail]

South the Mason War. War never changes. When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, forming tribes. As decades passed, these villages and tribes began to grow. Some united with others, forming greater nations. Some conquered others, creating vast empires built on a foundation of blood and slaves. These nations would fight, just as the men of the old world did. In this cauldron of fire and war, nations would rise and fall, with only a few rising above the others to form great Empires. Now is your time. For after decades of war, you and your nation stand alive and well over the corpses of the dead nations. Shall you conquer your neighbors, or band together with them against outside nations. Shall you dominate the land, or protect your Neutrality. It's up to you, but no matter what, war shall go on. For War, never changes."

[Dragos Bee]

Nathaniel Green

Why did you choose the Texan Commonwealth as the state to infiltrate? The 'Mexican Empire' seems to be the much stronger military power - a crucial part of a hypothetical Anti-Legion alliance. The voice was that of his NCR handler, who was communicating to Nate through the latter's dreams; this was enabled by the 'Navarro Chip' implanted in the young man's brain, a chip that allowed for instant communication when he slept. Now, however, Nathaniel was being questioned, and he knew he had to tell the truth while at the same time keep out bias.

I couldn't reach the Mexican Empire; plus, considering the NCR's efforts in Baja, they'd probably oppose our nation in time. Nathaniel gave his answer. There is also the fact that in a matter of weeks, I managed to infiltrate one of the Texan Commonwealth's Universities; something I could not have done in the Mexican Empire due to language differences...

Nathaniel Green - Flashback

Nathaniel had gotten charity from a local church, who had given him food and a decent set of clothes, as well as some of the local currency. Now, he was ready to make his way to the University in Dallas, a University maintained by the local lord from the prosperous tithes from his fief. In his tunic and hose, he made for an imposing figure, especially with his slow and steady stride, a stride that hid his clumsiness. That said, he had to carefully maneuver around any carriages and heavy equipment, which further slowed him down. So, just before he got to the University, it rained briefly, a rare squall that made sure he was drenched when he finally reached the building. Talking to the receptionist, he would say:

"Umm...hello? My name is Nathaniel, and despite my apperance, I am a learned man; literate in several of the Old Languages and a savant in military science. Can I talk with your Dean; note that although due to the recent rains, I will need some time to get my clothes dried out - I can't ask you to give me appropriate attire, could I?" Nathaniel then chuckled. "Either way, I entered the Texan Commonwealth to meet fellow scholars and learned people, and lost much in the way." A partial truth. "So, I would like for you to consider my offer."

As the receptionist's eyes narrowed and she made to call for the guards, Nathaniel decided to demonstrate that he actually did know something, and recited, in English and Latin:

Arms and the man I sing, who first made way,
predestined exile, from the Trojan shore
to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand.
Smitten of storms he was on land and sea
by violence of Heaven, to satisfy
stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war
he suffered, seeking at the last to found
the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods
to safe abode in Latium; whence arose
the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords,
and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome.

That did the trick; the Receptionist's eyes grew warmer, and she said, "My, my, Virgil's Aeneid! The Dean will be delighted to see someone who can recite it in multiple languages...even as he'd frown on how you make it sound so ordinary. Very well, I'll schedule the next hour."

Nathaniel Green

So, a few verses of Latin and English Poetry and you gained their trust, the NCR handler said. If Moore doesn't already think that you and they are pussies, then she'd think so now. Nevertheless, good work. What have you done since then?

Demonstrated my knowledge by giving a few lectures on military tactics, interspersed with flattery on how their King has a good tactical mind; which he does. I stayed away from any heavy or complicated equipment, as well as glass instruments, which was a bit inconvenient for me. I also wrote about my experiences in the West, keeping out anything sensitive about the NCR, but making much of my experience as a slave. This is one of my writings...

Nathaniel Green - Flashback:

Overnight, a large poster would be put up on a broad just outside the City Square of Dallas, where as many citizens as possible can view it when daylight struck. Though this poster was made up of cheap paper, the writing was in English; understandable yet eloquent. The title on the top of the poster, written in childishly neat letters, was: On the Betrayal of the Twisted Hairs, a True History by Tacitus Secundus.

This detailed, in exquisite detail, the Twisted Hairs' existence and power, their alliance with the First Caesar, and then their betrayal, no less than a few years ago, by the Legion they had expected to share power with. There were graphic descriptions of crucifixions, rapes, torture and enslavement, as well as the destruction of the tribal identity and culture of the Hairs. The last paragraph stated:

Just as the Legion betrayed their own allies, so will they betray anyone who deviates the slightest from their vision. You call yourselves a Monarchy with Nobles and Burghers, yet Caesar the Second - Vulpes - wants all to bow to one person, himself. Your history states that you regard the Romans as a thing of the past except when the Church refers to them, when Caesar himself decrees that there are no such thing as Romans; that his inspiration was the God Mars himself. Good people of Dallas, wake up; Caesar Vulpes, whose Legions have already appeared in the West, is a Heathen Tyrant. Even before that happens, his mind would already be preparing for a world where you are under his boot.

Do not wait to be like the Twisted Hairs. Prepare to defend yourselves.

[Xcom Federation]

American Republic

It took time for the Republic to finally clear the streets of new york of super mutants, raiders and slavers. The Republic quickly established itself as a major power in the area. Manhatten island was quickly locked down, APCs were dragged to be stationed on the bridges leading to the island ensuring no one could access the area while the government rebuilds. The raiders and mutants have done a number on many of the once perfectly preserved skyscrapers. Many of them would need extensive work to restore it back to its original form. News of their achievements soon spread across the wasteland.

The power station close to the city was the first to be restored, lights finally came on, several cases of GECKs were also used to terraform the area, its reactor combined with the fusion reactor in the vaults and power station ensured plentiful supplies of energy to the city. For the first time in over 200 years, the gleaming skyline of new york city came back on. Becoming a beacon of hope for the surrounding area. Fertile land also opened up many opportunities for agriculture. Its advanced medical facilities cured the citizens of common deadly diseases. Schools sprang up across the republic, reusing the old schools back in the day. Teaching the wastelanders the concept of democracy, the wonders of the old world and what is deemed acceptable in American society and the skills necessary for society to grow.

Atlas Corporation has already set out establishing itself back into the wasteland, setting up numerous outposts and bases. The water chips now provided clean and plentiful supplies of clean water for the citizens of the Republic. Trade flourished between settlements and the city itself. Security forces quickly expanded into the surrounding areas and cities. A clear line was drawn between the rapidly developing cities and the wasteland. Attracting raiders and criminal elements to the city. Ghouls, however, were not allowed into Manhatten island where most of the humans lived. Many lived across the river in new jersey.

The foundry and automated workshops in the underground bases produced what the republic needed especially new weapons for its troops. But it was clear from the beginning that it would not be enough to sustain a huge county. Expansion towards the eastern section of the republic was slowly put in place careful not to overextend itself.

Fuel became the main source of concern for the Republic, Coal was still common in the surrounding areas and were used to power the regions and some converted into fuel for the republic's vehicles. A small trickle of fuel flowed into the city reserved only for the military vehicles. The millions of cars littering the place were quickly scrapped for parts and materials. Atlas facilities, especially its oil and research facilities in the north were of priority.

The government settled into their new buildings and got to work revitalising the United States. A link to one of their satellites was briefly established and with it brought vital information about the state of the continent. What they saw concerned them greatly. they did not have a full picture but if the images were right. significant developments are happening in the west. What concerned them more was the loss of contact with major US bases in the vicinity, Raven rock, one of the most important bases in the west coast was active Enclave vaults in new york established a link to the base but so far there seem to be no responses. There are also lots of activity in Philidelphia which is another source of concern for the republic.

Rumours of a new power in Washington DC was a source of major intrigue as well but so far the Republic does not have the resources necessary to explore so far south. Microchips were also the new focus of the republic, with huge potential over the bulky vacuum tubes, it could open many more options and doors to major developments.

[Ormata]

---

Carolina Commonwealth
12th Infantry Battalion, Commonwealth Army
Helen, GA

Five hundred men and equipment. Five hundred men and equipment had descended onto the ruins of Helen, Georgia, to set-up and make their preparations for the journey south, the journey to the city called ‘Atlanta’. As far as they could see, the place had been a major hub for transportation in the Old World, though today it was but a desolate husk, a corpse that was still not finished rotting and the maggots not yet done feasting. To the north of the Battalion lay the great forests of the Commonwealth, vast and teeming with life, dark green and murky with hidden truths and hidden animals. They’d marched through that, a trip Pvt. Saunders would love to forget.

As far as he might see the fighting tents spread, down in their general rows with nails down into the mushy ground, the man crouched-down to not get the seat of his pants wet. Saunders disliked that greatly for obvious reasons, though even then the issues were just a little annoying. His boots sunk into the mud just three quarters of an inch, just enough that one could see but a sliver of the tread. It stank, as well, and he steadied himself by grasping a hold of a tent-wire. In his other hand, the butt-stock sunk just a bit into the mud, was the man’s ‘rifle’, his Fraiser automatic, the gun as tall as he. Beside the tent in a green seabag, laid on it’s side and sunk just a tad into the mud as well, was the ammunition for it, in it’s 60-round magazines.

“So, what, these Atlanta guys; they can’t be that bad, right?” Came the call from the tent, the accent there denoting the man being from the Nags Head, a little outcrop of swamp and sadness in the far east of the nation. He emerged, a skinny guy with a fair outcrop of stubble about his face, olive green uniform mussed by mud stains and rust-color, boots marred and baring shallow cuts.

“Doubt it. We’re not the only ones moving in, from what I hear. Reed Creek has the 43rd and 8th, far as the officers are saying. Bastards seen to be down for a fight.” He’d heard that, though granted not precisely from officers. Overhearing radio relays in their tent was just a bit different. Saunders checked his rifle for mud again, something that was nearly ingrained into reflex yet a thing done anyways. He disliked the damn mud; it was a bastard thing that never did much good towards his opinion.

“You kid; three Battalions? I don’t believe you.”

“Likely more. Sounded like they were talking in small terms.”

The roars in the distance began, Sergeants and NCOs waking what little troops had tried to grab some sleep, roaring to dismantle the tents, roaring to ready for the march. The camp swarmed with activity, artillery attached to horses, saddlebags and men getting prepared for whatever march that may be. Their Sergeant, St. Arnold, mustered his men with the air of a man who’d found a good bit, a man who had some experience under his belt. Salt-and-pepper hair attested to this, as well as the natural nature he took towards what little command he had.

“Today we go to war. War, not this pussyfooted bullshit you call patrols, not the slaughter of prick raiders who fuck like pigs and fight like cattle. Today we go to war against Atlanta, against the only fucks this side of the Line who can stand against us. They’ll have guns, not rusted pokers and pipes for rifles, guns like we have guns, and they’ll have fucking spirit. You see a bastard, you WILL shoot the bastard, and shoot him again to make sure. They don’t have our fucking machineguns, they don’t have our fucking artillery, so they won’t have the fucking victory. You boys have to understand this, if anything else; the nation is watching. Your families are watching, from afar. Your children and wives are watching. The President is watching. Most importantly, I am watching, and trust me when I say THERE. WILL. BE. NO FUCK. UPS. Hooyah?”

“Hooyah.” The call back, despite the helluva strong speech, despite the man before them’s enthusiasm, was less than enthusiastic. They’d heard it before and they’d hear it again, most expected, and to some who hadn’t seene St. Arnold’s meaner side it seemed only a bit humorous. The men circled about stood, shifting a little in the mud, and Pvt. Saunders left his rifle’s butt-stock sink back into the mud.

“What was that?”

“Hooyah!” A little better, but the Sergeant wasn’t satisfied. He feigned deafness for a moment, eyes scrunched like an old man, back leaned forward, hand to ear as though trying, just a little, to catch the sound with his fingers. Then, in a smooth motion, he straightened his back, yelling-out again.

“WHAT WAS THAT?”

“HOOYAH!”

“DAMN STRAIGHT. FAAAAAAALLLLL OUT IN COLUMNS OF FOUR. DRUMS GIVE ME A FIIIIIINE BEAT.”

With a rebel yell, the soldiers fell-out into a marching order, happy and glad to get the fuck out of the mud and much, happy and glad to actually do their jobs, happy and glad with a child’s glee because they actually could fight an enemy worthy of whatever the hell they had been told to do, to blood themselves, to be able to brag to loved ones at home that they did something, that the world in the army wasn’t easy and light, that they actually had to do work. It was a weird glee, a perverse glee, but a glee one would feel in the young and inexperienced.

The drums started, as the men began to march out to the south, and then the men started singing their cadence. First it was just the Sergeant, his old voice bellowing-out like a bull, but every jack man among them started, too, joining-in with their voices. It was an old song, a song before the Great War, before The War To End All Wars, before the Asian conflicts and before the dead in North Africa fell. It was a song dating far back in history, dating back to a time in America when brother killed brother, when a nation turned upon itself. It was a song the Sergeant felt fitting.

Away down South in the land of traitors,
Rattlesnakes and alligators,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
Where cotton's king and men are chattels,
Union boys will win the battles,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

Then we'll all go down to Dixie,
Away, away!
Each Dixie boy must understand
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away!
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away!
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

I wish I was in Baltimore,
I'd make Secession traitors roar,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
We'll put the traitors all to rout.
I'll bet my boots we'll whip them out,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

Then they'll wish they were in Dixie,
Away, away!
Each Dixie boy must understand
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away!
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away!
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

Oh, may our Stars and Stripes still wave
Forever o'er the free and brave,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
And let our motto ever be --
"For Union and for Liberty!"
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

Then they'll wish they were in Dixie,
Away, away!
Each Dixie boy must understand
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away!
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away!
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

And the boys marched, marched down and down the 129, down to Atlanta and down to war.

Across the nation, similar actions were undertook. The men of the 43rd and 8th Battalions disembarked from Reed Creek with just as much gusto, taking the 85 west, while more southerly the 91st Infantry took-off from Augusta, moving west on the 20. All told, 2,000 men and horses disembarked to war, disembarked to teach the boys in Atlanta a less and disembarked to make families proud. The Commonwealth pointed south, and the Army had looked and sent that little fist of men, men about the avenues and men about the highways, and the men marched. Olive green uniforms moved in-step, rifles bouncing with the feet, and the dust clouds drifted upwards.

---

Independent Wasteland
Ambassador Marquis Flynn & Company
Norfolk, VA

The man tugged at his collar, eyes darting from building to building as he traveled with the small entourage that had been sent.

The city itself seemed quiet, subdued, afraid to a degree. They prowled like wolves, looking from a distance, crossing the street whenever paths might come near and whenever foreigners might be close. Some scattered, some ran away, some felt that there was a reason the man in the traveling clothes was there and would have no place in it. Eyes watched from closed shutters and broken windows, the pavement broken as black boots trod over the crumbs. The olive uniforms stood-out, the emissary had to admit, and the guns stood-out too. The soldiers he had brought were due to some concerns that the populace would be hostile, that they would throw rocks, fire rifles out of windows, lob bombs. It was a far cry from Flynn’s army years, that was for sure.

They walked through the city, north and to a group known as the Enclave, a group the Carolinas had done research on, had been in residence. The group had a record for violence, a penchant for high technology and aerial gunships, for killing and pushing-out those in their territory, and Ambassador Marquis Flynn had a job to do in securing peace in the region. The Commonwealth weren’t comfortable with having such a nation to the north without having an accompanying treaty, especially when the Enclave were so close to their lines and so capable of striking rapidly.

[Dragos Bee]

The Library of Congress

Clean water, sanitation, agriculture, and some sort of electricity had been reintroduced to Philadelphia and the settlements surrounding it, as the Library of Congress began to consolidate its position. Schools were set up to teach both child and adult the literacy needed to absorb the right set of values, as well as the technical details of how to build and maintain technology. The mood in the region was optimistic, as the Library of Congress drove off raiders and slavers, administered basic justice, and restored the necessary order needed for society to function. But Eleanor Delano Paradise, the benevolent AI overseeing the Library's actions, was worried; signals from Washington D.C. implied the Enclave was up to something.

So it was no surprise that she sent a directive to the Nuclear Submarine Atlantis, where a copy of her resided, along with several of the Library's most loyal crewmembers. They are to be sent to the Carolina Commonwealth, to negotiate a trade deal; blueprints for better factories, better weapons, and even Power Armor in exchange for two things: One, cheaper cannons (The Library's own 3-D Printing Workshops were more focused on other forms of military equipment like Laser Weapons), and two, a defensive pact aimed against any potential aggressor (coughEnclavecough).

An Osprey was also being sent to New York, where Radio Signals were being detected, this time from an 'American Republic'. This Osprey carried a diplomatic delegation, as well as a few high-ranking members of Pennsylvania's Masonic Lodges.

[Versail]

Washington D.C., The Pentagon

What exactly the pride of the United States army was debated amongst Enclave personnel. For many it was power armor, for others it was the vertibird (silly aircraft as it was), but for Doctor Madison Li it was something different. Her pride and joy was Liberty Prime, now dubbed BAR-01, as it was the one project of hers that had the potential to turn any military engagement on its head. Oh of course the new agricultural tech she and her team made in the past had helped many lives, indeed had solidified the Enclave and its position in the area as a governing force, but Liberty prime would top it she was sure. The only issue was getting it running again. Which of course would take a very large amount of resources to do.

As the doctor walked out of the compound containing the robot and began moving to the deeper parts of the Pentagon she was joined by multiple figures, one of which she detested. Frank Horrigan was an abomination and a crime against nature but he was a useful one, at least for now. Having been bisected in combat against tribals and traitors on the oil rig out east he was barely alive when his body was recovered and put on ice. Now he is currently more than half robot and drugs, barely keeping it together. Yet despite that he was the general of the Army and had a seat at the meeting in the Pentagon as did Madison.

Pentagon, Meeting of Joint Chiefs of Staff
The room was heavily guarded one, with multiple auto-turrets and squads of Secret Service personnel covering every door. This was in part was due to the location, but in reality was because the President had decided that he was going to join this meeting. And he had no intention of being polite, as he was understandingly annoyed at recent developments.

“Well, gentlemen I would love to hear an explanation for why we have been receiving communications from New York.” came the southern drawl of a 60 something man who had the tone of being slighted by others he trusted.

The room was quiet as no one knew what the president was speaking of. Horrigan broke the silence “There has been… no news of any contact with New York since before the war… Sir.” He went on “In fact we have not even bee notified by our members in that area, any such reports are likely to be false.”

“Well than the goddamn ghost of American past must have sent it, because three days ago I got a ping from there, and whoever it is up there has been trying to reach Rave rock for a while now. Investigate the matter, and while you’re doing that make damn sure that whatever is up there knows the wrath of god. Am I understood General?”

“Crystal clear sir.”

“Right than…” The President turned to address Li “What reports do you have about the giant robot downstairs? Is it ready for field use yet?”

The doctor paused not sure on how to respond, “Well it is technically ready, if you don’t mind it breaking down upon first touching the ground outside. We have its primary weapons online but structural integrity is not entirely stable yet and the servos are still not ready. We need more time before that is possible.”

“Well than, make sure it’s ready before the year is out. That large nation in north and south carolina is beginning to make further moves on its neighbors and I refuse to let us be caught off guard. Dismissed, all of you”

Norfolk Virginia, Naval Academy.
Alpha Squad, First platoon, Norfolk Base.
“Standard operations for today ya’ll know the drill.”, the Commander of the garrison said on the radio. “Patrol your assigned areas and ensure the locals stay the fuck away from the gates, if you see anything out of the ordinary call it in ASAP alright.”

Private Atkins was resigned to the boredom of patrol duty again. Not necessarily a hated job, but nothing anyone really wanted to do. The purpose of the patrols was redundant as after all the locals never tried anything anymore, as they had learned their lesson after the first dozen people were shot and burnt to cinders, but sure as hell beat going out on babysitting duty for politicians.

“Eyes up Atkins you got a few hours left my man”, the Squad leader, a 50 year old who really should have left service by now, said over the squad headset. “I know you don’t really like this but we need to do it and-” He stopped abruptly, “What the hell is that?”

Looking up at where the sergeant was staring at Atkins saw a sight not seen in Norfolk for many months. “It appears to be some foreigners sir… didn’t we confiscate firearms in this town?”

“You're damn right we did goddamn” The Sergeant turned on his external speakers on his armor and raised his laser rifle, prompting the rest of the 6 man team to do the same. “Hey, y'all there, with the guns, who the hell are you?!”

Atkins waiting with curiosity and with the rest of his unit, began to take up positions in the street if things went sour with these outsiders.

The sergeant repeated himself “I say again, who are you and what are you doing in this area?!”

[Xcom Federation]

When an unidentified flying object appeared on the newly repaired radar of JFK Airport. The republic scrambled its Gunship to intercept. What the gunship found surprised them. A working V-22 Osprey, its side was the emblem of the prewar library of Congress, thought to have been long destroyed by nuclear fire. The osprey was redirected to JFK airport where a reception was hastily prepared to welcome the delegates. A few working prewar cars were used to transport them to the UN headquarters, now repurposed as the Capitol building of the republic.

After few hours of negotiations with the president, a press conference was released, announcing the formal integration of the library of Congress into the republic. The library will transfer all military assets to the federal government control and all territories under the library control are now part of the republic. The library will form become the republic's department of education, ensuring all republic citizens have access to basic education and skills. The library will choose a representative as the secretary of education to advise the president on educational matters. The reclaimed Millennium high school in the lower Manhatten area has been designated as the department's headquarters.

A few hours after the agreement, two squads of Republican troops and General Peter McLeish arrived into Philadelphia in cars and Humvees to help smooth out the integration, the citizens were informed of the agreement and by the next day, all library of congress military personnel were under American control. A small group of Librarium Guardsmen where to be kept under the Congress rule to be used in the preservation of knowledge under the agreement.

The leadership were extremely happy in working out such a favourable deal with the Congress but the Congress brought with them disturbing news, they recently had an agreement with a nation calling itself the Carolina Commonwealth, it had considerable naval firepower, although their guns could not fire as fast or as accurately as their own, it was a threat. The agreement was quickly put on hold and all technological exchange frozen. Power armour and weapons schematics have been judged too dangerous to be given away under Congress for now. News of the enclave in DC was exciting news as well, several enclave officers in the republic hoped this would mean the reformation of the United States once again, but there were doubts especially from the ex-congress members who opposed the enclave's ideals.

Most restoration work in New York city has been completed, the city regained most of its charm as citizens abandoned the shacks of the wasteland for concrete apartments, police kept the street safe and the new york stock exchange have reopened bringing new opportunities for many citizens, especially those that created their own companies, the concept and practice of the stock market has been relatively new to wastelanders but lessons conducted by the republic helped those that expressed interest in understanding it. With it, the stock market flourished and so did many businesses. Those that benefited the most were trading companies who have grown in considerable size. The biggest one, however, was still Atlas corporation, now 3 times the size it started out with. They were responsible for providing most of the trading companies with men, protecting their caravans and goods.

The government also approved of a new plan to extend its reach into the wasteland. Atlas Corporation was tasked with the job of clearing out raider settlements from long island and to open any prewar storage bunkers in order to retrieve the equipment with a 2 million dollar contract. Forces from New York and Philadelphia now pushed down the I-95 highway setting up outposts and reclaiming the land to secure a supply route from New York to Philadelphia. Taking over the town of Edison and what remained of Trenton The Treasury also reintroduced the US currency into the republic to replace caps, its worth now backed by what remained of the few millions of dollars of gold in the federal reserve. Public works project have been set up for wastelanders coming to the city in the hopes of a better future just like the ones who immigrated to new york during the 1920s. Immigrants have a choice between military or civil defence service or labourers in fixing America's infrastructure. With most of new york looking like how it was before, efforts are now been concentrated on restoring Philadelphia as much as possible which had been hard hit by the bombs.

The Republic Congress approved a 20 million dollar investment into the Brooklyn naval yards as well as to repair pre-war naval ships still stuck in the harbour and the dry docks. The statue of liberty the shining beacon of American liberty and freedom have been repaired back to its former glory. Shining as grand as it was day and night. The island and the surrounding Ellis and governers island have also been repaired and used by the military as bases to prevent enemy ships from approaching. Prewar harpoon missile launchers have been taken out of storage and placed on the island. They still required extensive repairs but with 5 of these launchers out of storage, work could finally begin in repairing them. A secure channel between the AI Eleanor Henry Paradise and the republic's own JULIAN systems have both been established with the government and military as advisors in the coming days.

The system of pipes and water treatment plants have also been fully repaired piping clean water to new york houses providing sanitation and clean water for the citizens, improving their health. Hospitals many of which have been stripped of essential medical supplies are now being slowly restocked, rusting medical equipment repaired, greatly improving the quality of life and health of the citizens.

[Ormata]

---

Atlanta Republic
12th Infantry Battalion, Commonwealth Army
Oakwood, GA

“Fire all will! FIRE AT WILL! COVERING FIRE!”

The Sergeant’s calls rung-out through the air, through the screams and blood and bullets, through the enemy’s automatic fire and the town militia’s bolt-action shots, fire and flash bursting in the windows alongside a makeshift palisade across the street. The Battalion had laid-low, one company engaging them from the front under prone and grass cover. They kept firing, flashes along the tall grass in little bursts. Meanwhile, the town’s defenses were being outflanked, units moving through the ruins of McEver and down the road of the same name to attack from the northwest.

Pvt. Saunders moved with these, breath heavy from carrying his long, long rifle on his shoulder, friend in tow with the ammunition and a rifle. About them was another group of soldiers, part escort and part fire support, and the land about them was dead to a good degree. The lake had turned to marsh and death, the surrounding lands just as barrene of good life, and the homes looked just as corpselike. The walls bent inwards, the doors lay crooked and off their hinges, the upper floors cutaway as though a knife had been taken to them. The roads had turned to gravel.

And the enemy had turned in front of them. A wooden palisade, or at the very least the back of it, was between the streets, men in uniform and out manning it, keeping up their rate of fire. The two men found their position, a broken home’s window, and the trap was set. The Fraser rifle was a thing of undeniable length, of beauty and death, and one that could spew-out 250 rounds a minute. It was a helluva lot of fun to shoot. Brooks opened-up the seabag, setting a drum beside them to be sure to be ready. They ran through ammunition like bastards with it. A thumbs-up confirmed that holy jesus was most certainly ready.

Saunders took ahold of it, bracing it against his shoulder and bracing his body against the ground, steadying that stance before getting the sights on a man upon the palisade. One burst, just a second’s length and just five rounds, rammed straight into the soldier, his body turning to jelly as twenty millimeter rounds impacting on and through him. Red spread like an artist’s brush. The gunner adjusted rapidly though, the firing order already in his mind because he knew they’d respond oh-so-quickly. The breathing came steady, another burst into another soldier, tearing through them and their cover like a knife through butter. The soldiers noticed that holy fuck something was up, one turning to receive the rounds right to the chest. Their body stiffened before falling like a twig, back broken and stomach rended apart.

It went, just like that, again and again, across all fronts in Oakwood and Pendergrass, in Buckhead and Jefferson. The Commonwealth marched-in.

---

Independent Wasteland
Ambassador Marquis Flynn & Company
Norfolk, VA

“You're damn right we did goddamn” The Sergeant turned on his external speakers on his armor and raised his laser rifle, prompting the rest of the 6 man team to do the same. “Hey, y'all there, with the guns, who the hell are you?!”

Atkins waiting with curiosity and with the rest of his unit, began to take up positions in the street if things went sour with these outsiders.

The sergeant repeated himself “I say again, who are you and what are you doing in this area?!”

“Morning! Emissary from The Carolina Commonwealth, come to discuss important matters!” Came Mr. Flynn’s response, head turning just a bit to the side and motioning his hand with a short little wave, nice and slow, nice and controlled. His voice tried to be just a bit happy, a bit welcoming. These soldiers seemed tense, awake, and were most certainly in Power Armor. They weren’t massively happy people, that was for damn sure, though that was to be expected in all things. Norfolk was a cowed city by the men, cowed into compliance and cowed into silence, and these men seemed to be more than capable of doing so. They were definitely well-armed, with incinerators and laser rifles, Power Rifles in abundance, some of which the man recognized and some he didn’t.

The soldiers, however, understood the gesture, keeping their rifles lowered towards the ground, keeping just a little at ease. The soldiers in front of them were very, very well armed, very well-trained, moving into positions on the street in case anything went sour. It was precisely what the Sergeant would have done, had he been in their shoes, and in his mind he cursed what had been given to him. They were on a damn mission of peace, that was for sure, and a mission for peace that went into murder and death normally involved everyone on the ‘attempting to be peaceful’ side to be rather dead. They were in the open, too, and doubtless the Enclave had thrown snipers up.

Yeah. It was rather shit. The Sergeant sighed at the predicament they had decided to get themselves into, eyes watching the soldiers carefully in case they would raise their weapons, get ready to fire. He paid special attention to the man with the heavy incinerator, considering that if he would raise the damn thing he’d most certainly be starting to fire with the rest of them.

---

Carolina Commonwealth
President Mckinney
Charlotte, SC

“They’re sending a submarine.”

“Still using those? Jesus fuck these guys must have a good system, then. Repairing those things, even to a lighter degree...that’d require technology to a massive degree.”

“That or it’s posturing. If they have the thing and it’s half-fixed, could be just a bluff. They want to make themselves seem more capable than they actually are, and so they send the thing that’d impress us most. Nonetheless, the fact that it’s actually still moving with no leaks is good enough for what we need. What did they say they would be bringing?”

“Blueprints and information, for the most part. Power Armor information and an Assaultron example.”

“Fucking hell. And they just want cannons for that information? Fraiser cannons?”

“Just cannons was what we got sent.”

“How small are these people that they need our workshops? How desperate are they?”

President Mckinney sat back in his chair, leaning just a little with a cigarette between his lips. The smoke drifted up, up and out of the room’s open windows into the green, into the city streets. Despite how ventilated the room seemed to be, it smelled just a bit of smoke and tobacco, nearly every Cabinet member having a cigarette or cigar in their mouths, the metal ashtrays tapped every once in a while. Taking it out, the young man breathed a bit of the smoke out, tapping it against an ashtray with the tip still glowing red. His other hand went for a mug of hot coffee, sipping that. The man’s eyes were closed, one hand on the cane beside his chair.

“Small enough that they need us, and frankly their help will be a damn fine boon.”

“They’re moving a military asset into our territory. Granted, announcing a presence is a stupid thing, but holy hell would that be a reverse psychology ambush. We need to watch them.”

“Obviously. Order the Henry Powell to intercept and escort them down to Charleston.”

“Very well. What’s the next item?”

Taking a stack of papers, secretaries dispersed them throughout the Cabinet, each member flicking-through the pages. They were standard stuff, standard bureaucracy that can characterize any nation’s government. Another man, one in a suit-and-tie with glasses framing his balding head, cleared his throat and began to speak. He had a thinner, reedier voice, a little nervous to begin with.

“Our prospects have proven quite well. Infrastructure within the city is well underway, along with the roads connecting Rock Hill and Charlotte to Charleston to supply that base and allow for better trade with others. The rifle workshop in Greenville is going as according to plan, though a recent shortage in steel set the construction back a week. That’s been remedied...let’s see. Wilmington Naval Base was reinforced with their roadworks, though that really wasn’t that much in the way of scope. Sanitation with the pipeworks has been stalled again due to a lack of skilled workers within the city, so that’s been postponed. For now most of the populace is resorting to dumping outside the city walls.”

“Any other major issues then? We can’t fix a shortage of skilled labor, not while pressing military matters are on the table.”

“Not that can be seen. As far as roads are in Wilmington, they’re dirt. For the vast majority of what the populace wants, well, that’s good enough.”

“Anything else on the agenda? No? Dismissed, then.”

[Carena]

The Stack (former Steamtown Historic Site), Central Electric City

Thompson rises from the balcony that he rests on, facing the cheering crowd of spectators below. His gaze falls upon the stadium, hardly recognizable from its pre-war state as a railway roundhouse. Tiered seats dot the ceilings facing inwards, while a chainlike fence separates standing spectators from gladiators. The new additions of the stadiums are built through an assortment of scrap metal and other junk, and while it may give the appearance of being precarious, accidents are far and few between. The small houses that once stored trains have been converted to hold gladiators prior to battling. As Thompson continues to examine the stadium, the PA announcer comes online.

"Welcome to the Stack! Today, armed only with a machete, our champion Matthew Armstrong will do battle with the mightiest beast in the wastes... a Deathclaw!"

"This unborn nosebleed's cruising for a bruising" Thompson remarks to Dolores. "Ain't no one who can take on a Claw without a gun."

"You haven't seen this yoot fight?" Delores responds. "He's got vim. Took down a Yao Guai once with just a handcrafted pipe shooter."

"Eh, we'll see I guess.".

After the PA announcer finishes a countdown, the doors open, and the deathclaw comes rushing out. Immediately, the oversized lizard charges at Armstrong, as he holds it's ground. As it swings back it's claw, Armstrong takes out his machete and slices through the beast's arm. The mutant chameleon roars in pain as Armstrong quickly takes the machete and punctures the creature's heart, vanquishing it. The deathclaw flaws to the ground as Armstrong places one foot onto it's carcass, celebrating his victory as the crowd cheers him on.

Thompson looks astonished as he witnessed the man take down a deathclaw in such a fashion. "Guess I was wrong, that bull can fight. Maybe he's got a place in the gang."

[Ralnis]

New Orleans

It has been days since the takeover of New Orleans. The people were not pleased after the gangsters in power armor came in and disposed of the former government. No body knows about the mysterious leaders hidden in their vault but they know his voice over the radio. The Chairman knew that this was for the best. Donnie rather be a mysterious leader that one can't try to defeat with an assassination than an open leader that people can point and try to destroy. Besides, the vault was much better and comfortable than anything topside.

As Donnie starts to go through the reports of the city and what the former government had gone through, he saw the potential in the city. The city itself was still a major center of trade along the area but many of the neighbors are settlements that are small in size. This was shook up as the Commission conquered the government and it was time to reestablished those connections and make sure they respect the new agreements. One thing that could be used was to throw their weight, grease a few palms and make some deals that they can view the crime family in a reasonable light.

The second was of the city itself. The city's trade was able to become powerful and some of the lights were on but were pretty faulty. Donnie thought it would be best to start lowering income taxes and bringing in the vice. Vice is a powerful tool and can drive a powerful economy with lax trade laws and open up the markets. The thing is that the mafia needed standards and rules. The first thing was no slavery and a age restriction on the vices and gambling. The Commission knew that slaves never did any good for anyone after the factory was made. Besides, slave upkeep was usually too much on food and medical supplies and it was against the Omerta Code.

The city's markets will be booming with new product that can be profited and can be used to increased the prosperity of the city. This also comes with the need to invest in the merchants that are loyal to the Commission in order to keep the economy flowing and controlled. The next part that came was the Commission's military. While 200 power armor troopers were good to hold the city, there was the need to get that number up.

Many of the military engineers that knew how to repair the intricate parts of the invincible armor knew that a factory could be built but it would take most of the year to complete it. Even still, only a handful sets of power armor could be made out a time. With these explanations, Donnie decided to bring back the industrial base by setting up a steel refinery which can start recycling the scrap around the city and help make arms and armor for new soldiers that would be needed to fill the ranks.

Though the idea of marching over the settlements and trying to recruit new members was good idea, there was always the Super Mutant question. There where rumors of mythical underground sources of green vats inside hidden caves and underneath pre-war military defenses. If these rumors were true, then they need to send out scouts to see where these rumor trails lead. Donnie knew that the Super Mutants were as strong as a man in power armor but the FEV still needed to be perfected if Dolly's demands were to be met.

All the things that Lou told Donnie were theoretical at best without some samples to work with. Donnie gave the green light to search the Wasteland for the FEV source and get to work on making the city better and reconnecting with nearby settlements.

[Higher Japan]

Virginia, Manassas Junction

The sound of a locomotive roared throughout the area for a mile or so out. 'Opportunity' was the name of the train itself, linking the vital cities throughout the Federation to the very breadbasket of it all, Shenandoah valley. Aboard the train was multiple crates of food, everything from wheat to vegetables to meat, the train itself was to carry it to Manassas for further distribution. The train itself, for all the cargo it had was no joke as well. The cargo holds were armored with whatever scrap metal the Federation could afford and for open air holds were at least defended by 4 soldiers at any time. Aboard the more 'armored' section as well, mini guns and modified assault rifles placed on pivot mounts with increased rate of fire.

For a few miles out, the train would continue onward in the desolated wasteland that was never reclaimed, the occasional feral ghoul was either rammed or blasted down by the soldiers. Aboard the train's office holdings, Tanya paced around her office as she looked at the reports that were presented aboard her table. Alexandria was a contested zone to her knowledge, tensions had been rising as the garrison in Alexandria began to receive more reports under command from the military. Meanwhile, most Federal cities were doing well still, Manassas was still the grand military fortress that remained the final bastion of Hyperion while Woodbridge was still sufficient in maintaining the small Federal fleet.

"This is bad, if we continue onward like this...we can't survive a full blown war at this rate." Sitting back down, she turned her terminal on, quickly looking through the data as she made another log on it. "Day 5, so far I'm doing well as the new executive director. So far, father's work has been well preserved and is in fact doing better than before, although I guess it was by their own effort. Today I've finished up an inspection on our holdings in Shenandoah. So far the animals we rear are doing good, the wheat harvest will come soon and our cross breeding project has begun to yield fruit quite literally so.

Even today, I still can't stop thinking about Alexandria. 3 days ago at the start of my term I had visited the outpost there. The air was tense, I had at least 6 guards following me around and even in the naval base most of the men were too busy manning their posts. Lookouts kept monitoring the other side of the river. Of course my visit was brief, considering the tense air they most likely didn't want me there longer than needed. It has been 5 days since my succession, my father's killer has been brought to justice, hopefully the biological research and experimentation department does their job well enough." Finishing up and saving the log in, her guards knocked on the door as they notified her that they had arrived at Manassas. Stepping out of her carriage by the side door leading to the platform, a few guards saluted her as her heels clacked against the ground. "Director Wolfe, good to have you back. How was your visit to our bread basket." Completely ignoring the voice, the man sighed once again. "Director Wolfe, you there? It's me, you know, the man controlling the entirety of the defense forces here? You know, Marshall Lee?"

"Marshal Lee, get me a full report on all our forces dispersed throughout the cities and pull our frontier troops back to Manassas. On my table by 5." Walking out of the station, she got into her personal transport as the car made it's way back to Manassas fortress.

[Versail]

Norfolk Virginia, Naval Academy.
Beta Squad, First platoon, Norfolk Base.

“Morning! Emissary from The Carolina Commonwealth, come to discuss important matters!” Came Mr. Flynn’s response, head turning just a bit to the side and motioning his hand with a short little wave, nice and slow, nice and controlled. His voice tried to be just a bit happy, a bit welcoming.

“An emissary… right,” Sergeant Wilson was of two minds about this group of strangers. On the one hand they very well could be telling the truth about being emissaries from that primitive group of locals. Yet on the other hand he recalled the stories his father told him about the reason the Enclave fell in the west. Regardless on his opinion and that of his men the decision was not up to him. “You all stay right there while I call this in, one wrong move, one shot fired and you’re dead. Got me?!”

Switching off his external speakers and speaking to his squad. “Y’all believe this shit?” When he finally got on comms with Punisher command a few moments he said “Punisher Actual, this is Punisher 2-1 we got a bit of a situation here.”

“What is it Wilson?” Came the gravel-like response.

“We got some armed out-of-towners claiming they are emissaries from some Carolina commonwealth, can you comment on what you want us to do? Cause I doubt they are smart enough to get the hint that they aint really welcome here.”

“Hmm.” A moment passed. “Let them hole up in a local building that’s still standing, let em know we got someone more official to talk to em.”

“Understood Punisher actual, punisher 2-1 out.” Turning on his external speakers once more, he addressed the Carolinian's “Y’all get yourself “comfortable” in that old store over there,” Gesturing to a old Super-Mart. “We got someone coming to talk to ya, they’ll be a day or so, so don’t be afraid to shoot nosy local trash aight.” He awaited the emissaries response. Looking to his right and left he saw his squad at low ready ready for his signal to begin shooting.

Washington D.C., Fort Independence
Frank Horrigan, United States Secret Service

“Well than the goddamn ghost of American past must have sent it, because three days ago I got a ping from there, and whoever it is up there has been trying to reach Rave rock for a while now. Investigate the matter, and while you’re doing that make damn sure that whatever is up there knows the wrath of god. Am I understood General?”

“Crystal clear sir.”

“Get the Osprey moving right fucking now!” Frank had not rested since the president gave him a direct order to investigate what had been trying to communicate with Raven Rock. This was 10 hours ago. It had taken half of that to get the needed troops for the operation, and the rest to light a fire underneath the Air-Force command in order to get a transport and an escort for that transport, and the air-force personnel were moving to slowly for his liking. “We need this thing moving yesterday NOW MOVE IT!” As with many things a pissed off Frank Horrigan was very bad news for many.

Having sufficiently motivated the mechanics and pilots into finishing preparations and pre-flight checks Frank had a moment to calm himself. After all the mission was a go. Plus they had a full USSS platoon alongside him so the idiots who irritated his president would either be punished or otherwise put off doing so. That was all that mattered to the beast of a man who began stroking his plasma machine gun. As the skyscrapers of New York City were in sight he gave one final address to his troops. “As you know the mission is to find the source of the messages to Raven Rock, find out their intentions and act accordingly. For the President!”

“For the President!” Roared the USSS platoon in response.

“One minute until we get to the drop site, get ready.” Said the Osprey pilot.

“Prepare for drop!” Horrigan said. It would be a fun time to be out in the field again.

[NewLakotah]

The United Eerie Commonwealth

---

Background – the Williamson Dynasty

The city of Cleveland had grown to become the centre of power and prestige of the Midwest. Thousands of people called it home, and many more lived in the surrounding settlements and suburbs, either in trade or in agriculture to feed the ever hungry, ever growing city. Of course, it wasn’t always that way. It had been one of the bigger cities in the region before the bombs fell, and thus was one of the targets that Chinese nuclear missiles hit. It had been a long and difficult journey from there, one with no assured success by any means.

The lineage of the Williamson dynasty goes back to the original Vault-dwellers that hid away from the bombs that fell on that fateful day in 2077. That Williamson was documented as a high-level banking executive. However, it wouldn’t be until much later that the Williamsons would gain real control. It first happened in the vaults before they were opened around 12 years later in 2089. With unrest and uneasiness overtaking the vault-dwellers after spending so much time underground with little to no opportunity to leave, the people their soon resented the vault-keepers their guards and the overseer. This lead to a outbreak of outright hostility and violence that was only solved when that same first Williamson, David by his first name, quickly managed to ease the tension and find a manageable and peaceful solution. He, along with a coordinated group of leaders, would run the vault until it was time for it to be opened. Ever the master at negotiations, he soon managed to finagle the rest of the coordinators out of power, until he alone remained. However, it was not him that really started the dynasty. It was his daughter, Marissa Williamson, who officially became the first in the line of The Royal Family. After the death of her father two years later, she quickly stepped in to declare herself the rightful successor to be the ruler of the Vault. She herself was rather successful in the pre-war years and had spent the last few years alongside her father, being mentored and prepared by him.

By this point there was little in the way to stop her from gaining that control, with most of the security forces on her side. From this point on she was the rightful ruler and sole authority of the vault. However, it wouldn’t be for some years the she took on the title of Queen. However, thus began the virtually unbroken line of succession of the Williamson dynasty on the throne.
When the vault doors did finally open, and the vaulters swept out to rebuild the world and to remake it and build a better one, they did so under the dual authority of the Church and the King, the two pillars that would hold together the now growing Kingdom. The surrounding small settlements were quick to fall under their control. With their weapons, technology an expertise as well as GECKs, they were able to transform the Cleveland area quickly, dominating the unaffiliated settlements and getting the smaller, weaker factions to join their side. The vaulters were quick to establish their hierarchy over them, allowing only the wealthiest or strongest to join their newfound “nobility” status. Each of the vaulters were given some sort of title and area of control and deed. With that, they continued to spread out. One by one, bands of settlements or bandits fell under their sphere of influence, declaring an oath to the king and accepting the swarm of Christian missionaries that sweep over the countryside, often heading out before the armies and conquest.

Their expansion was quick and often bloodless. However, as they encountered more sophisticated opponents, some with vaulters at their head or within their number, sometimes rival monarchies, they were forced to engage them in combat. After many wars, marriages, uprisings and conflict, the Kingdom was soon in control of the entire Ohio area. It was then that they found a much tougher challenger.

The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania was another monarchy with a long history and a large and well-trained military. The two kingdoms were at first peaceful, trading growing together, but eventually they were drawn into all out conflict. During the War of Pennsylvanian Succession, then Queen Marissa IV of the Ohio declared herself the rightful ruler of the Commonwealth, based on a rather vague claim of true blood and right of succession, since the real Prince of Pittsburgh had died and the Commonwealth was left with no true-born heir. The war was an effective stalemate militarily, however, upon the death of the Commonwealth’s monarch, the nation had no true born heir to pass the throne onto. A virtual civil war, with a large neighbor eager to overtake the throne left the remaining loyalist government with very few options. They met with the Queen and the rest of the delegates to formulate a solution. This solution guaranteed the right of the Commonwealth to remain an “independent kingdom” however, the succession of the throne would be passed over to the Williamson line. In place of the King, the National Assembly would act as their own government, able to pass laws and run their government independently. Over head was the Archduke of Pittsburgh, who was the cousin of the former line of Rogers, the last line of Pennsylvanian monarchs, and the technical rightful heir to be the next ruler in line. Thus was born what became the Dual Monarchy of the Ohio and Pennsylvania.

The next several years were rough for the now two combined kingdoms, yet still separate. In order to smooth things over, the Commonwealth Parliament was formed, which guaranteed full and equal participation for Pennsylvania. Pittsburgh became the second official capital of the Commonwealth and the old palace refitted for the Williamson dynasty. By 2083, both sides had come together, working closely politically, economically and now socially. The divide between the two lessening from anger and hatred, to neutral, and now to an deep trust and closeness. They remained still deeply nationalistic in a dual sense. Both first to their own nation, and then to the Commonwealth as a whole, in the effort to expand and to continue to grow the nation. For the Williamson dynasty, it had been a quick rise to power and then a steady and strong reign of over a century.

---

Chapter One: War Drums and Hoofbeats
“War is Cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.” – William Tecumseh Sherman

---

Cleveland, United Eerie Commonwealth

The city was bustling and busy as it always was. It was the centre and the seat of power, the centre of the economic power that drove the rest of the country. Sure, Pittsburgh was one of the largest and most important cities with the Commonwealth, politically and economically, and Cincinnati was a burgeoning economic success story. However, it didn’t detract at all from the power that was Cleveland. In fact, it really only enhanced it. With lots of wealthy nobility and the Royal treasury, there was no shortage of money to rebuild and redesign the city worthy of its inhabitants. The old “Downtown” Core had been entirely rebuild and refitted to be befitting of the high profile residents and businesses that occupied it. The old and classic Drury Hotel had been taken over by the royals themselves, the rooms and grandeur of the hotel redone, both inside and out, to make it befitting of what a Royal family should have. The Cleveland Housing Authority building was transformed into the Commonwealth Parliament building, just down the street from the Royal Palace. Further along, the older Ohio Parliament had refurbished the old city hall. Between these and the surrounding old style large skyscrapers became the “Royal Quartier”. Many of the large buildings had started to crumble and decay, the rubble filling the streets. It wasn’t long though, until the entire area was fully of rubble and the rebuilding process could begin.

Royal Palace
Cleveland, United Eerie Commonwealth

The Honourable Lord Sir Lawrence Solomon, 1st Earl of New Castle walked as quickly as a man of his age could. Going on 71, he was small and frail, though in all honestly, he had always been rather small and frail. At 5’5, he never was a man that intimidated via his presence, but his powerful will and eloquence, not to mention massive accumulated, was certainly enough to make anybody back down, especially within the Parliament. Solomon was not born into nobility nor wealth, but had earned his marked the hard way. Born to a family of small, yet independent, famers, Solomon’s future was anything but certain. He had figured that he would going into the family business eventually, however, he never took to it. A rather sickly child, he could hardly stand the long days in the hot sun, or even days in which it was too cold, which often left him deathly sick for days on end.

Bedridden for much of his youth, he instead spent his days daydreaming, reading and writing. He begged, borrowed and stole any book or type of holotape or literature that he could get his hands on, especially interesting in the writings of historians, from both before the War and after. During his schooling he found that he was rather adept at math, passing and succeeding at any problem and equation thrown at him. Eventually his teachers took note of this young, shy and sickly looking youth and began preparing him for life beyond the small town of New Castle, which was still mostly a farming community with little future for a man like Solomon.

At the end of his Mandatory Schooling Period at age 16, Solomon was given a recommendation by his Math teacher and the Headmaster of the school to attend one of Preparatory schools for Mathematics in Pittsburgh. He attended it for two years, struggling with his bouts of illness as usual, but still manage to succeed very well. After his graduation he was granted admission to the most prestigious university in the entire Eerie Commonwealth, the Queen’s University of Columbus, which was the old campus of the Ohio State University. He studied advanced mathematics and economics there, doing well and was soon working full time after graduation in a trading company. He soon managed to invest and save enough money to strike it on his own, starting a small banking and loan business in his old small town, to operate for all of the farmers in the region. This endeavour made him very wealthy locally, and his business was soon growing throughout the wasteland and countryside, dominated the banking an loaning industry outside of the major cities.

With his large wealth and prestige among the people, he soon won the favour and approval of the Archduke. In 2265, Solomon decided to throw his hat into the ring to run for the National Assembly. He won his seat easily, and soon set about dominating the next ten years of internal Pennsylvanian politics. His writing ability, speechmaking ability and economic understanding made him a powerful figure within the Assembly. In 2270, he was made Party leader and won the position of Prime Minister, a post he would enjoy for the next 10 years, during which he would be made an Earl, the first Earl of New Castle. By 2080, the now aging tiger of National politics, was prodded by the Archduke to head to the Ohio and take a seat in the Commonwealth Parliament, to give more weight to the Commonwealth’s own position. He acquiesced, and took his seat in the Commonwealth. Again, he rose to began now a truly national political power figure as, despite his age, his will and power didn’t seem to wane a bit. Two years later, he was fully elected Prime Minster of the Commonwealth, a seat that technically made him the most important Civilian in the United Commonwealth and the 3rd ranking member of government.

Today for the Lord New Castle, it would be a rather standard day, or so he thought. He had his meeting with the King scheduled that afternoon, after the morning Parliamentary sessions. Commonwealth Parliamentary politics were always worse, Solomon thought, there were so many more political parties represented, that no single party would every truly be able to have a majority. Solomon’s Party was the United Catholic Party (UCP) and their major opposition was the National Christian Front Party (NCFP). These were the two parties that were made of mixed representatives from both kingdoms, while most of the smaller parties only represented one kingdom or point of view. Things inside would always be difficult, but it was the type of challenge Solomon relished.

However, today he would be seeing the King. He had actually no idea what the meeting was about, only getting a vague message from the King about the urgency of the meeting. Solomon arrived as soon as he could to the Palace, walking from the Commonwealth Parliament Building down through the bustling business and political centres of the city. At the gates he was quickly waved along by the guards and he was in the Palace.

A servant welcomed him into the back hall of the old hotel, now shinning and bedazzled Royal Palace. He removed his coat, wincing slightly, his arthritis kicking up again as he did so. He walked slowly behind the servant, passing by several ornately dressed Royal Guards, as they moved along towards the Conference Room. The servant turned into the room and stood off to the side.

“The Right Honourable Lord New Castle.” He said, announcing Solomon’s arrival. Solomon entered the room next, looking around at the assembled audience. There was, of course the King, Alexander, along with several of his close aides and advisors. Premiere of the House of Lords, Lord Dustin McArthur, Field Marshall Carter Swift, the Lord Columbus, as well as the Commonwealth’s own War Minister Martha Jacques. He tried not to look surprised as he nodded and spoke his greetings, and bowed before the king.

“Have a seat Lord New Castle.” The King responded cheerily, with the soft aristocratic rolling drawl that was characteristic of the Williamson family. Solomon smiled his thank you and took his seat.

“Well, we shall here begin.” The King continued. He was a man of stocky build, around 54 years old. A dark beard covered his face, with wisps of gray matted in. “Now, we have already been dealing with these issues for some time. However, it is within my understanding that we must begin to deal with this now. As soon as possible. I am, of course, talking about Louisville and Lexington. Both of these cities are known to be harbours of a number of warlords and bandit groups. Thus, we must begin to prepare to send an expedition out there. To eliminate the threat and to take those cities. From what I can understand, both cities and the areas around them, are holding a good amount of resources, agricultural potential and industrial zones that would greatly benefit this Commonwealth.” He paused. The queue for the next step in the talks. There was a long moment of silence, until Solomon cleared his throat, realized it was his turn to speak.

“Of course, Your Majesty. This has been a development a long time coming. I know that we are more than capable to be able to effectively control this region with our armed forces. I can definitely see the gain that should materialize in economic and business potential, as well as growing the nation. As for the Parliament, well, there will be no resistance there, I can assure you.”

“And I am able to vouch for the combat abilities of our armed forces, Sir.” Martha Jacques interjected, nodding to the Field Marshall. “We will be able to detach up to a division of soldiers to begin the expedition, setting up checkpoints, bridgeheads and liaisons with the local settlements in between here and there. As such, we need official Royal Emissaries, Lord New Castle, as well as civilian government economic agents to work in order to establish a successful relationship with the people there.”

Solomon nodded in agreement. King Alexander looked between both of them and then at the others.

“Very well. I am sure that you are capable of doing your parts of this mission. I wished to be certain of all things before rushing into anything. I am glad that you will be able to work together to make this operation a success.”

---

Cincinnati, United Eerie Empire
Desmond Army Base, 2nd Division Headquarters
Army of the Ohio

Major General Augustine Armstrong was a short yet strong man. A fierce black mustache across his face, which was battered and scarred from years of service in the wastes. He had received the message from the Army Headquarters only a few hours ago. The mission was a-go. It was one that the Army Staff had spent many hours pouring over in the past several months. The mission to take the two golden cities of the former state of Kentucky.

Armstrong had quickly sent out his orders to his staff and to the brigade commanders. One regiment would remain behind, the Loyal Dayton Rifles, to act as a the rearguard and border security that the Commonwealth needed. The rest of the 2nd Division, more or less, would move out, spreading out along the highways and road systems, across the wasteland, establishing their control of the entire region, town by town, settlement by settlement and by and through whatever means necessary. As usual, government liaisons and government economic advisors would accompany the patrols, to work with or establish local ordinances and governments, as well as connecting them to the large economy and political system. Them, along with the standard missionaries and Chaplains that always accompanied them. There were already several missions established across the wastelands in their direction. Those would be their first waypoints, places they knew would be rather warmer to them than others certainly would be.

Out in front of the Divisional HQ, the first regiments of the 3rd Brigade were forming up on the parade ground, readying themselves for their operation. The uniforms of the Army of the Ohio were a light horizon blue, a dullish yet clean colour. The helmets were of a hardened metal version of what the old firefighters had worn. Armstrong glanced through the window at them. Behind him were several of the planning staff officers. A large map was spread across the long mahogany table that dominated the centre of the room. Maps of various positions and localities were also pinned on the back wall, while other resources and documents were pinned to the other. Armstrong turned and faced back to the map. Small little markers represented each of the regiments that Armstrong had under his command. Little red markers showed known enemy and bandit locations and strongpoints.

“Well then, comrades our day is here. We move out at dawn. One last check down on this plan, ok?” He looked around at the nods. “Colonel Marquis.”

Colonel Marquis nodded and leaned over the map pointing with her finger at the long line heading towards Louisville. “3rd Brigade with artillery support, will take the lead along this road. Detachments from the Royal Rifles will spread out along these settlements… here” She pointed out two dots on the map. She continues, “Meanwhile, the Guards will deal with these two emplacements. They will receive the bulk of the artillery support for this, as the rest of the Brigade moves past along, heading straight for the city, with the Princess Matilda’s Royal Horse Dragoons in the forefront. 4th Brigade minus the LDR will advance parallel along this road to Lexington, trying to remain in lock step, however, will focus more on clearing the roads, and establishing the bases and contact with the settlements along the way.” She stops.

Armstrong nods approvingly. “Good. Now, make sure the dispatches and orders are well established with all Brigade and Regimental commanders. Make sure the information is passed on as clearly and precisely as possible as it pertains to their unit and their unit specifically. Now, we go in the morning, may God help us and bless us.”

---

Charlotte, Carolina Commonwealth
The Diplomatic Mission

The envoy mission from Eerie had been a long journey. It wasn’t entirely without danger either. The wasteland between the Eerie and Carolina was fraught with danger. However, the three diplomats had not ventured out alone. Along with them had travelled the Personal Protection detail from the Constabulary. The Constabulary’s uniform was quite different from that of either the Navy, cavalry, or infantry. Theirs was a dark blue, with a matching dark blue necktie, albeit with the same helmet design as the rest of the Forces. The three ambassadors were Samuel Blackburn, the 45 year old tall, fiery leader of the group, Martha Samson, the youngest of the group as well as the least experienced, and finally Morgan Robinson, the Pittsburgh native with a quiet demeanour.

This group had been sent by the King, and authorised by the Commonwealth Parliament, to act as their official diplomatic mission to the Carolina Commonwealth. The Carolina Commonwealth was rather an oddity to the Eerie Commonwealth. Despite their shared title, they shared seemingly little else politically. However, from afar, they heard of the success and power that this far away Commonwealth had accomplished and were eager to know more, distance and differences by damned. Always wishing for and seeking strong economic trading partners and political allies from across the wasteland, King Alexander had finally made the decision to make a real attempt at an official contact with whatever type of government that they had.

So thus, the three envoys had finally arrived in the large capital of the Carolina Commonwealth. They had entered the city just a little bit ago, leaving their escort with their transport. They approached what seemed to be the major square, where the main government buildings were located. However, they were keen on taking in everything they could about the city and their systems. Blackburn was the first to approach the guards that he saw.

“Good day, sir. We are apart of a diplomatic mission from the United Eerie Commonwealth. We wish to speak with whatever delegation that is able to deal with us, if you would.”

[Ormata]

---

Atlanta Republic
12th Infantry Battalion, Commonwealth Army
Oakwood, GA

The tent about them was small, smaller than the greater norm and built for utility. It was most certainly not comfortable, the three men inside could attest to that, crowding and sitting-about a small, low table. About it was a topographical map showing the disposition of the Commonwealth forces. The units were fairly concentrated into spearheads, each stabbing into the Republic’s territory with brutal effort, and small concentrations of lighter troops following behind to prevent enemy counterattacks or attempts to begin guerilla campaigns in Commonwealth territory. Both were highly unlikely, granted, the enemy’s slight forces insuring that any sort of attack on their end would prove disastrous and ultimately futile, and the forces within the Commonwealth were seen as more than enough to prevent any sort of guerilla campaign from causing real damage. Nonetheless, while the war overall was proving a success, they still wished perfection.

Laziness bred failure, failure bred defeat. This simple truth drove them.

The three men sitting inside wore various shades of the olive green uniform, not from different patterns or standards, but from simple different lengths of service. Uniforms grew faded, old, and while they might be replaced rear-guard units often found it easier to just keep faded uniforms for whenever it was not required that they look pretty as it were. The two older men wore green the shade of dying grass, the other wearing a far newer uniform with a far newer pair of boots.

“They seem to have concentrated their forces about the main city, Atlanta. We’re facing too little resistance for there to be any other explanation; no nation could hide armies of a thousand and there’s little reason for them to do so. Massed ambushes of that scale simply don’t work with our scouts, not at all. The fact that they won’t meet us in combat...worries me.” The first man who had spoken was of the older sort, the sort with a shaved face and slight body, the sort whose hair was cut short in the salt-and-pepper fashion. His features were severe, as befit his nature.

“Civilian casualties getting to you again?”

“This war’s purpose, I’d remind you, and our goals are to expand the Commonwealth’s territory and to bring more people into the fold. To bring more resources to our use. There’s no point to that if we level cities and kill hundreds. Besides that, a brutal siege may very well turn the population against us, if they aren’t already. Seeing loved ones, old and young and sick, dead before you is an angering sight, I’d remind you. They won’t lie down like dogs, that’s for damned sure.”

“They won’t learn submissiveness from fear, then?”

“Your time among the tribespeople softens you, Colonel. No, they will not. They would learn only death and stubbornness from brutality and slaughter, that is the lessons history teaches us. We must prove our superiority to gain real loyalty.”

“So what, then, you think that this war will be fought with hearts and minds?”

“I think that slaughtering them unnecessarily will bring little joy and little recompense. A siege...may do the trick, however.”

“That’s what I thought.”

---

Independent Wasteland
Ambassador Marquis Flynn & Company
Norfolk, VA

“Y’all get yourself “comfortable” in that old store over there,” Gesturing to a old Super-Mart. “We got someone coming to talk to ya, they’ll be a day or so, so don’t be afraid to shoot nosy local trash aight.” He awaited the emissaries response. Looking to his right and left he saw his squad at low ready ready for his signal to begin shooting.

“Of course, sir,” called-back the Emissary, nodding to the man and leading his troops into the abandoned building. It was dark, surely lacked the things like electrical power or sanitation, but overall wasn’t anything worse than field conditions. The fact that it was honest cover made it a good deal better, in all reality, than anything Marquis Flynn had faced in the wasteland, and he rather liked it. A perimeter search, and thorough search of the Super-Mart, ensured that it was not a death-trap nor held such things as ghouls, rad-roaches, or wild mongrels, things that often popped-up when least wanted.

They set-down their gear, made camp, and waited, eating their rations and watching from the windows. Not one of them trusted the area for being what it seemed to be, for being a sort of place where only the beaten-down would collect, and that was likely in many of their opinions. Even if they were beaten-down, outsiders might ignite a hatred there that burned silently, an unseen thing that would only be shown when the crowds came with their torches and rifles. They kept their watch, and kept it well, and they waited.

Marquis Flynn had set-up their wireless set, sending-out his own message to the Commonwealth to notify them on the progress, however insignificant, they had made. It was an easy assumption that the Enclave had some form of interception method, and it was also an easy assumption that they had the computer skills to crack any Commonwealth cypher made under normal conditions. He used a different one, however, one that made use of the timed spaces between words to formulate their own characters, something achieved only through careful editing to create the needed precision. It was a damn annoying process, he had to say, but it was worth it in his opinion.

And so, they waited and watched.

Norfolk Virginia, Naval Academy.
Private Atkins, Beta Squad, First platoon, Norfolk Base.


“Sargeant we do actually got someone coming for them right?” Atkins asked after watching the Carolinians head towards the store “Because even though they’re wasteland yokels I don’t think lying to an ”emissary” is a good idea, and I don’t think the locals in the city will stay quiet if they see them.”

“Of course we do, we just have to wait a bit and then some hoighty-toighty officer from D.C. will come down to our cozy little area.” Pointing at the store, “And since you seem to care so much Private, you get the honor of guarding that there building until we can get charlie squad out here to take over for ya.” Motioning to the rest of the squad “Y’all go with me, we got a patrol to finish, move out.” As the squad resumed their patrol of the city Atkins moseyed on over to the front of the store and stood watch for locals who might get ideas about trying to disturb the band of foreigners.

Norfolk Virginia, Naval Academy.
First Lieutenant Alvarado, First platoon, Norfolk Base Communication and Command center.

“We got some armed out-of-towners claiming they are emissaries from some Carolina commonwealth, can you comment on what you want us to do? Cause I doubt they are smart enough to understand that this place ain’t our main base.”

“Hmm.” A moment passed. “Let them hole up in a local building that’s still standing, let em know we got someone more official to talk to em.”

“Damnit Wilson, you gotta do this shit on a monday morning.” The lieutenant muttered to himself as he prepared to radio in to D.C. command about the ordeal that he found himself in. Once he got through to high-command he spoke. “High-Com this is Lieutenant Alvarado of Norfolk garrison callsign Punisher actual. We got people from the “Carolina Commonwealth” here claiming they are on some important mission. Fro what the patrol that found them relayed to me and from what I can infer they seem to want some kind of diplomat to come down here and discuss things.”

“What kind of things Alvarado?” Came the noticeably female voice.

“That we don’t quite know yet Ma’am, we let them take up residence in an abandoned Supermarket but we don’t know when they’ll try to leave so if someone with higher authority can make their way down here that would be appreciated.”

“Well the only ambassador available at the moment is one Lex Walls from Vault 101, and transportation is potentially an issue. Regardless you’ll get your messenger to talk to them sometime within the next day or so Lt.”

“Understood command, Punisher Actual out.” Moving back to the Beta squad radio, “Sergeant you there?”

“Yes sir Lieutenant, what do you need sir?”

“Judging from where your transponders are I’m guessing you resumed patrol, I need you to turn back around and tell that Carolinian group that a group will be coming down there in a day at most. More likely than that it’ll be less than that alright.”

“Understood sir, will do.”

Norfolk Virginia, Naval Academy.
Private Atkins, Beta Squad, First platoon, Norfolk Base.

Atkins had been at the front of the store for a few minutes when his radio crackled.

“Private, command called, you gotta relay something for us to those people in that store.” The sergeants voice came through. “Let them know we got someone coming down to talk to them in a few hours, or a day at most.”


Nodding his head, “Yes sir, will do.” Turning off his radio for the moment Atkins turned to where the door of the building was and opened the door then walked in. “You all should be ready because an Enclave representative will be here in a few hours to talk with you boys, if you have any concerns let me know understood. I’ll be out front standing guard until they get here so don’t worry about locals coming to bother you.”

“Thank you kindly!” Came the call out from the building. While they had not brought heavy machine guns to defend themselves, the soldiers had developed a rather good way of weakening certain walls and pillars to ensure that any sort of assault would lead to not cover at all for, really, any enemy. There was that and the grenades. Grenades were always nice in murdering dissidents, in Flynn’s opinion.

Norfolk Virginia, Naval Academy.
Ambassador Lex Walls, Enclave diplomatic corps, Norfolk Base Osprey Landing pad.

“Thank you for your quick arrival Ma’am, we aren’t really equipped or staffed to handle non-violent uties here” Lieutenant Alvarado informed Walls as she stepped off of the Osprey transport. “This is just a garrison at the moment after all, not a full fledged base.”

“No problem at all Lt., now where are these wastelanders that you in such a fuss?” Waving off the Sergeant of her escort as she began walking off of the landing pad.

“Their in the local supermarket store, there should be a trooper in front of it standing guard.” After a moment's pause he continued, “Do you need a guide to show you the way there miss?”

Lifting her left arm to show the Pip-boy on said arm she replied “No need” Upon her giving a signal to the Tesla squad behind her she began making her way downtown to the designated store. Upon arriving she saw the Army trooper. “Are they still in there private?”

Atkins responded with a nod of his helmeted head. “Excellent, you may join us in greeting our “honored guests” Sergeant take point if you don’t mind” Pointing at the door that led into the store.

“Right away Ms.Walls, lets go troopers” Opening the door and marching into the building followed shortly thereafter by the Ambassador, after dusting off her officers uniform and cap, and the Army trooper.

When she saw the emissary from Carolina she stated the following. “My name is Lex Walls, the Representative from the United States government and I heard you have some things to discuss with me.”

“Good to meet you, Ms. Walls. My name’s Marquis Flynn, Carolina Commonwealth.” He extended his own hand towards her, the woman clearly deserving some form of formality. On her wrist was what seemed to be a smaller computer, something he’d seen on a few faded billboards in the cities. It was a little thing the man had come to associate with Vault-Tec, a pre-war company involved in the building of vast underground shelters to help the populace in restoring the wasteland. Obviously they’d failed, in one way or another, considering that America hadn’t popped from the ground like daisies in the field, yet apparently some form had survived. The woman’s wrist was proof of it. He cleared his throat.

“We do indeed have some things to discuss, and I would have loved to have set this meeting up but with some small regret there have been multiple changes of plans. I might be what you’d call the bottom of the barrel. My deepest apologies for the...unorthodox nature of this. Please, sit. Would you like some coffee?” A pot was brewing underneath a hot-plate, two men already sitting-down nearby with steam rising from their own tin cups. Marquis proffered-up a seat, in all reality a more sturdy box, staying standing himself as a point. Women sat first, after all.

Granted, his little experiment had another use. Would she shy away from the rudimentary area, from the wreckage of the old world, and suggest that they go somewhere more formal? It’d suggest that they both had an ease of transportation and a disliking of such housing accomodations, at least for little things as this. On the whole it’d indicate a distancing of their nation from the realities of the world, that they had the technology and power to do so. He was interested in the response. The troopers that surrounded her suggested that they most definitely had the technology, wearing Power Armor such as that, being as well-armed as that, and that confirmed Flynn’s beliefs on the nation known as the Enclave. They had power, damn sure on it.

Taking the proffered hand and shaking “Charmed, I’m sure.” Taking a few seconds to think she replied “And while I thank you for the offer of coffee I’m afraid I must decline for now, at least until these talks have concluded.” Seeing the box offered as a seat she paused. “Would you prefer these talks in a… more official setting?” Tilting her head at the man. “The regional command center perhaps, I’m certain that there is at least more room and better lighting in there than here.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“In fact I think that there might locals trying to listen in on us here, and we certainly can’t have that now can we?” Turning to the Sergeant, “Help keep the path clear won’t you.” Seeing the tesla troopers moving out and turning back to Flynn, “Now that that’s done what do you say Mr.Flynn, would you like to move to a more suitable location?”

“That’d be fine,” came the reply, the man staying standing and jerking his head at the Sergeant. The pot of coffee was rapidly emptied, the building obviously not really much in the way to complain on the spill, the hot-plate powered down within a matter of seconds and the entire device placed within what might as well be considered a type of ‘glove’, essentially a heat resistance weave on both sides. The men had their bedrolls already packed-away, and the rest of it was rather easy in terms of moving. They traveled light for a good reason, after all, and the reason easily showed. “How long is the regional command center from here?” It couldn’t have been far; the Enclave seemed to lack the essential measures of supply lines, instead using other manners to bring their utilities in. Perhaps...flown-in? Unsubstantiated reports had been filed before, Flynn knew, and some involved aircraft. Nevertheless, his suspicions had been confirmed by her reaction; she wanted it to be on her grounds, too. Nice.

He made a light sigh, before turning to one of the soldiers. “Sergeant, let them take the shots kindly.”

“‘Course Sir.”

The soldiers were, of course, not really that much at ease. Being so near a bunch of men in Power Armor is one thing; they’d fought the bastard raiders at times, some of them in their own scrap metal Power Armor, but those men were like beasts compared to these. They were uncoordinated, failures at the most basic sense in combat, and in scrap armor. These men were most certainly not that, with their higher quality methods and higher quality coordination. They acted as soldiers should act.

---

Carolina Commonwealth
President Mckinney
Charlotte, SC

“Good day, sir. We are apart of a diplomatic mission from the United Eerie Commonwealth. We wish to speak with whatever delegation that is able to deal with us, if you would.”

The guard turned towards the trio, at the position of attention, rifle to his shoulder and helmet about his head. His olive cloth seemed untainted by the ravages of dirt and grime that plagued the wasteland, his boots shined to a strong polish, and his belt-buckle was as bright as a penny. The man’s belt, of black leather, was neither rotted nor worn, and yet despite that the man looked to have the experience wrought only by war, bloody war, brutal war. His face was drawn tight, tight about the bones, and his green eyes were as piercing as a sniper’s round. He looked, from his rather expansive height, down to the person addressing him.

The man’s eyes went, from one to the other to the other, his mouth drawing to a thin line as he seemed to stab into the three foreigners. They were most definitely not from the area, not at all, and as such the man paid special attention to the details of their person. It was a good five seconds, perhaps six, before his mouth spoke. His voice had a growl to it, a rough-hewn texture that could only be provided with a long history of smoking.

“A diplomatic mission? From the ‘United Eerie Commonwealth’? I see. Was this mission forwarded ahead to our ambassadors?” The questions were neither with or without disrespect; they were questions which required answers, questions that would determine how they might be treated, where they might be directed, where they might be taken.

[Xcom Federation]

Fort Jay, New york governors island.
Fort Jay had become the tempory headquarters of the American armed forces as the US army department building was still in the middle of renovations. General Solomon was having a peaceful afternoon, the integration act and organisation the library's armed forces would take alot of work to sort out and mountains and mountains of paperwork, at least there isn't anyone attacking he thought until his frantic looking aide burst into the office.

The Philadelphia naval headquarters reported the Atlantis carrying the first of its shipments of prewar tech to the commonwealth, the American Congress had frozen the deal for further debates and shipments were to be stopped.
A V-22 Osprey fitted with two mark 48 torpedos and 2 UH-60s filled with JSOC teams and an additional Osprey with a team of republican guards with secretary of state were quickly ordered by the president to immediately intercept the submarine and make contact with the Commonwealth.

The American Military was now on full alert, most of the city' prewar Anti-air defences were still offline, but thanks to the Advanced foundries of the republic, 2 batteries of Patriot missile batteries and three mobile C-Ram point defence turrets have been repaired and rearmed to be redeployed to strategic areas of the city. Manhatten Island now swarmed with troops as the leadership underwent massive relocation efforts, the senate and house of representatives are to be relocated to several different areas of the city to avoid overcrowding

[Versail]

---

Events

---

The Carolina Commonwealth
A Large scale raid on Asheville North Carolina has taken place recently. The attackers, unlike most other raider groups, used proper military tactics and weaponry in their attack. They caught the town garrison off guard and were able to inflict massive losses to the defending force, making off with large amounts of loot and hostages in the process. Recon reports suggest that these raiders came from Knoxville and have fortified the city to a massive degree. Despite this the nation calls for blood, and should this call be ignored dissent will rise.

---

The American Republic
As the integration with the Library of Congress continues there have been disturbing rumors coming from the Boston area. Reports of advanced machines capable of posing as humans and of vast raider armies emerge from that region of the country. Of course these are only rumors… although some immigrants from that area do seem strange.

---

The Library of Congress
The integration process with the American Republic is going well, except for a few minor speed bumps. Some of your military forces refuse to join with the American republic due to allegations that the American Republic is made up of Enclave personnel and will pervert the cause of the Library. While there are only 20 or so members who refuse to integrate, they are still a worrisome issue and will spread their ideas further unless something is done soon.

---

The Enclave
There have been recent issues within the Enclave high-command. Of course the issues are not limited to political issues, but the political issues are the most troublesome. The main two troublesome parties involved are the Moderates and the Purists. The purists have the support of the Secret Service and wish for a return of the old days of Richardson and of Eden. Whereas the Moderates have the support of the wastelanders and the regular army and see the only way forward for the Enclave to be that of integrating the wastelanders into the Enclave. So far there have been no open conflict but should the issue be left to ferment it will be fighting eventually.

---

The Commision
Consolidation of New Orleans is going smoothly. There are far fewer insurgents than expected and former Orleans military personnel flock to the Commission ranks. In addition some members of the Blue Waters Monopoly have entered the city in order to discuss trade with the new owners of the city, in this case that would be the Commision.

---

The Texas Commonwealth
A man known Aries has recently into Dallas today. He claims to be a member of a “Legion” from the far western USA. He also claims to have information that will save the Commonwealth, but will only share it if given safe haven from the Legion members who may be looking for him.

---

Electric City
A group of merchants came into the city recently. Normally this would not be anything of note, but the goods these merchants carried are of a very rare quality. Pre-war firearms manufactured by former springfield armories and preserved in bunkers until recently. There are several hundred of these very finely made firearms, and the merchants give them to the city as tribute, in return for a safe haven from the raider forces they stole them from. Of course these raiders also want their goods back, and they number in the thousands.

---

The New Federation of Hyperion
There have been numerous large groups of immigrants who came to the federation recently, more than normal. This has the benefit of having around 2,000 more experienced farm hands for our land. On the other hand it means more people to feed. What is done with these people is up to you.

---

The United Erie Commonwealth
There are rumblings to the west and north-west. The behemoth known only as the Brotherhood is rising. Rumors of hundreds of power armor wearing soldiers and thousands of robots are on a collision course with the Commonwealth. Preparations must be made to avoid catastrophe.

---

[Dragos Bee]

The Library of Congress

General Athena Spring of the former Library Armed Forces went to the dissidents, meeting them individually or in small groups. She came alone, in order to show that she was only there to talk. To each dissident, she would say that the Library was still the Library, that the pact with the American Republic was aimed against the true Enclave as part of a pact of encirclement, and that all members of the Library armed forces would keep their old ranks, whether officer and private. In short, integration or no integration, the Library will have the means to follow their mission and ensure the integrity of said mission. Attention was also given to the constructive aspects of the American Republic, including in the rebuilding of infrastructure.

That, and it was hinted that the agreement with the American Republic and the Library would not be all one-sided...

For when news of the 'Synth Crisis' in Boston had come to Eleanor Delano Paradise's attention, she gave an offer to the American Republic: A 'donation' of a set of X-Ray scanners, which can be put up at the main point of entry for Bostoner migrants. She also suggested the founding of a 'processing centre', where another set is to be put up, where immigrants can be tested to see if they are truly human. However, she would then make a potentially unpleasant suggestion: To do nothing to the 'Synths' except watch them to see if they reported to someone or something.

Another suggestion was to send an infilitration mission to the Enclave-occupied Washington DC; spies can help find out what those people are planning.

Board of Trustees Meeting

"We have detected signals of another AI in the Midwest," Josephine Parr (Scientific Research) said to the other two Trustees, Ken McCain (War) and Booker T. Spears (Education). "We have also detected the signatures of a vast robot army advancing east from that direction."

Ken would reply, "We won't be able to handle a war with both the Enclave and another AI, especially one with a 'vast robot army', at the same time! Are there any buffer states to, well, buffer?"

Booker answered for Josephine, "Local accounts say that a Neo-Feudalist state called the Eerie Commonwealth is in the way of the enemy. I think we should lobby our new 'superiors'," he meant the American Republic, "To send an Osprey or two to help support this ramshackle kingdom. As an added bonus, we can include this 'Eerie Commonwealth' in our Anti-Enclave Pact once they've been too weakened by the robots and dependent on our technology."

"Assuming the American Republic would allow us to do that; they put our deal with the Carolina Commonwealth on hold!" replied Ken. "Nevertheless, ask one of the Masonic Lodges of Pennsylvania if they can send a diplomatic expert and a lobbying team to New York City immediately; that will allow them to recognize the correctness of our cause - no, causes; we need that deal with the Carolina Commonwealth to encircle the Enclave!"

Sumbarine Atlantis

The Submarine would go peacefully with the American Republic forces, but not after an attempt to explain the benefits of an 'encircling alliance' with the Carolinans and its benefits against the Enclave.

[Xcom Federation]

The Administration district -Old United Nations headquarters.

Reports from Boston have raised alarm within the leadership, under the recommendation of the joints chiefs, President Kirkman locked down Manhatten island, declaring an emergency. Military checkpoints block all civilian access to the island and scanning equipment from the library deployed to screen all military personnel in high ranking positions for any possible synth outbreak.

An emergency meeting with the Eleanor Delano Paradise had given several different ways he could possibly do with the threat. After much deliberation, a processing centre set up on Roosevelt Island, in the newly refurbished Coler Goldwater Specialty Hospital & Nursing Facility, by the newly established FEMA, that was in charge of rebuilding both Philadelphia and new york. After much discussions with his aides and generals, a consensus has been reached. All synths identified by the CIA will be tracked and monitored to find out who they report to. Some of them will be instead pulled out to be used to spy on the Enclave instead for the republic. Synths identified by the Republic will be blacklisted from entering government offices.

In a meeting with the joint chiefs, representatives of the library and the CIA as well as been cross-checked with JULIAN, confirming the existence of a Neo-Feudalist state called the Eerie Commonwealth as well as signatures of a vast robot army advancing east from that direction. The Commonwealth was the only thing that stood in between them and whatever that is advancing towards them.
Many supported the library's recommendation of sending military aid to the commonwealth in order to serve as an effective buffer state. Some opposed the idea of sending advanced weaponry to someone who embodies what the Republic stands against, but the president's decision was final and with support from the majority of the Congress, an aid package has been hastily put together.
In JFK airport 5 Ospreys that were previously used by the Congress has come out of maintenance, a brief inspection by the mechanics have found several parts deemed too worn out for extended use and has been replaced. 4 of them have been tasked with delivering the aid package to the commonwealth as well as a diplomatic envoy and a team of republican guards.
The aid package includes a sentry bot Mk II, two Assaultrons and 20 rocket launchers.

With the Atlantis safely back in Philadelphia naval base, workers quickly removed the shipment of power armour and robots from the submarine and immediately send to new york Brooklyn naval yard where she would be dry docked for extensive repairs and refurbishment. The power armour sent under heavy guard to the US army reserve centre and the assaultron moved to the airport and placed in a waiting Osprey where it sat waiting under the watchful eye of the republican guards. No other military personnel was allowed near the aircraft. It seems like the president has something else in mind instead of the Congress.

The 2 UH-60s and Osprey continued down towards the Carolina commonwealth and landed close to its capital Charlotte by, the secretary of state explained to the wary Carolina soldiers that they are representatives of the American Republic and wishes to meet with their representative to establish diplomatic ties. The objective was simple, to make an amendment to the library's deal with the Commonwealth. The Congress has approved a compromise to send assultrons and Mr handy models to the commonwealth instead of power armour and blueprints for the AER9 laser rifle replaced with the Wattz 2000 laser rifle for access to parts of the Commonwealth's production lines as well as the previously agreed upon cannons.

A second group of unauthorized aircraft entered new york city again, a VB-2 gunship sent to intercept reported seeing the flag of the Enclave painted over the sides of a V-22 as well as 4 strange looking helicopters accompanying it. They were in the middle of fast roping down close to the small enclave emergency bunker in battery park when the gunship finally came into contact, broadcasting the message. "This is the American Republic to the Enclave. we come in peace."

A QRF consisting of 2 humvees and 8 men, well as the nearby 5 men patrol rushed to the area wary of the Enclave forces. A nearby C-ram and group troops armed with stinger missiles took aim the helicopters.
several members of the military and Congress that were members of the enclave, however, were ecstatic with the news as they finally came into contact with their original group.

[NewLakotah]

Chapter Two: A Rising Power
I am become death, destroyer of worlds - J. Robert Oppenheimer

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The United Eerie Commonwealth
Cincinnati Guards Regiment, 3rd Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division
Army of the Ohio


The marching seemed to go on forever. For the men and women that comprised the advance force, most of the first day had been spent clearing the road of debris, and staying on watch so that the engineers could ensure that the road was intact enough to drive the transport trucks across. The trucks were a new part of a new strategy that the Commonwealth was betting on. They had long been using the horse and horsepower to drive their armies, and they had been most effective, especially in combat. However, they were not blind to the fact that horses had distance and time limitations that were much less than that of a engine-powered transport. Of course, making sure that the roads were in good enough shape was always an annoyance. And so, no matter how much new technology was being introduced, albeit slowly, into the Commonwealth and its army, the basis of the army would still be the horse.

However, for the average foot soldier, they were still grounded, marching to and from where ever they needed to be. By the first night they had managed only 29 miles. For the men of the 2nd Battalion of the Guards, the night was short and their rest fitful. By early dawn the next day they were back on their feet Their orders were simple, march straight and true down the lead, spearheading the assault behind the advance cavalry who were far ahead and all around, screening the flanks, probing for defences, scouting enemy positions, and hoping to catch any group of defenders off guard for a quick assault.

In command of the Battalion was Lt. Colonel Markus Wharton, heir to the Earldom of Dayton. He had been more or less groomed for this role since he was young, his father also a career soldier, just like his grandfather before him, and so on. It had put great strain on the young boy, who had not grown up nearly as big and strong as his father or grandfather. Wharton had been born premature, and had always been smaller, even between the rest of his siblings, all of whom were younger. This countered with the intensity and preparation of his life for this, had left Wharton dealing with serious bouts of illness throughout his early youth and up until he eventually got out from the house and into the Royal Military College, where he would train to become an officer.
He had performed well there, academically excelling where his physical training was lacking. However, he managed to pass with good grades and high recommendations from his teachers and classmates, applauding his tactical mind and his ability to process information quickly and efficiently. However, they also recommending that he did not go into a lead infantry role, stating that his frailness as an issue. However, his father had been adamant that he take on a role in the infantry, leading men, rather than be a supply officer of staff officer. So, Wharton requested, and was granted, a commission into the Royal Army as a 2nd Lieutenant in the infantry. That was at age 21. Now at age 39, he was now a Lt. Colonel. His service was marked with both successes and personal failings. His health being the biggest downside, yet compensating that with his logistical prowess, he managed to impress his superiors enough to finally give him his own Battalion command. At his age, he was certainly on the older side as far as being a battalion commander, having only just received this promotion within the past month. Instead of doing his time in the infantry before leaving for a much suitable position, he had decided to stick with it. He actually enjoyed the infantry and felt that he was suited for it, despite everything and what others said. However, for him this would certainly be his most important test, his first major operation in this command.

Wharton was riding in the column just behind the advance guard. They were getting close to their first objective, which was around 40 miles from the starting point. Their objective was a small trading town, that had often been used as a northern post for the Louisville government, either in trading, armed defences or raiding. The advance Dragoons had gone out in front of the infantry column, to scout the position and to see if it was occupied. If it wasn’t, they were to take it and control the position themselves. If it was, they would report back to the Brigade and let the boot-sloggers deal with the action. So, the infantry moved on, their movements kicking up the dust along the road.

In front of Wharton, he could see a sudden commotion. Soldiers moving to the side, shouts and the sound of galloping horses. He looked up to see 4 Dragoon riders moving up to him. The lead man saluted, his face streaming with sweat, running through the dirt on his face, his uniform covered in dust and dirt. Wharton saw the rank on the man: Captain.

“Sir, beg t’report!” The man called out as his hand went up to his forehead. Wharton coolly returned the salute.

“Go ahead, Captain.” He responded.

“Sir. Colonel Montgomery sends his regards. His 2nd platoon has reached the town, enemy reported to be encamped. The enemy was too strong for him to dislodge and so he disengaged, his forces dismounted and set up earthworks 1,000 yards for site, waiting for infantry support and artillery.”

“Good work Captain. Tell the Colonel our Battalion is advancing and will support. Runner! Get me a runner!” He shouts back. A horseman rides up.

“Get a report back to Regiment, Cavalry engaged, 2nd Battalion moving to engage. Artillery to move up if required.”

“Yes. Sir!” With that the runner wheeled his horse around and darted back along the road as fast as he could, back towards the Regimental headquarters caravan. Wharton turned back forward, as the Cavalry Captain turned back to return to his unit. The infantry along the line began to quicken their pace, moving forward towards the fight.

It wasn’t long before the unit was closing in on the enemy position. There was smoke in the air, and gun fire crackled among the brush and along the tree line leading up to a small group of small wood and sandbag fortifications along the main road entering the town. Along their side, holed up along a ditch, reinforced with their own small entrenching tools, was the 2nd Platoon from the dragoons. The uniform of the cavalry was markedly different, a light blue with red trim with the same style helmet. They wore high black boots and were usually equipped with lighter and smaller firearms and usually lacked any real fire support weapons. Most of them were engaging the enemy with fire from their small arms, suppressing the enemy as the infantry moved in behind them. In front of them, the enemy was firing back in their own volleys, including light machine gun fire that pinged and cracked all around the heads of the surrounding infantry.

Sergeant Michael Andrews was one of these men rushing up to the front. He was from Dayton, raised in a family of merchants. However, he had answered his call for service, and decided to remain in active duty past his required service years, rather than simply go to the reserve regiments that was usually standard for most individual soldiers. Andrews was now a section leader in A Company, the first company in the lead heading up to the front. Ahead of him he saw clear as day, the fortifications of their enemy and even a fleeting glance or two of a figure darting up from the walls or rushing between the sandbag fortifications.

He could tell that the fortifications were a rather hasty affair, or perhaps designed for a far less superior foe such as themselves. It might work against lightly armed raiders or bandits, but against a well armed, well trained military such as the Commonwealth; they stood little chance. Behind him he could hear his Lieutenant Colonel Wharton barking out orders. Wharton had jumped off his horse and was crouched down along a small dilapidated building, which at one time might have been a very nice estate.

“Get some mortars on their positions, get word back to regiment. We might need artillery, but keep ready to move. They probably won’t put up to heavy a fight here, not this far from there home.” Wharton was saying. The next thing Andrews saw was several of the light trench mortars and one of the larger 81mm mortars being set up, while the troops along road moved over to the side and took cover, keeping the road open.

Andrews kept his section on the move, continuing to spread out from the main line, extending through the tree and brush line, having his men take cover wherever they could, keeping a good distance between each soldier. They were extended now around the flank some 1,000 metres from the main road, while more members from his company swept past him, their heads low against the cracks from enemy fire. Andrews could tell that most of the enemy fire was concentrated along the road itself, where their own fire was returning in ever growing intensity.

Andrews peered out from his cover towards the smoke and fire filled fortifications. He could tell that there must only be a small outpost of enemies there. The rest were either in town or retreating back towards the main city. These had to simply be the rearguard. Suddenly, he heard the soft thud from the mortars then watched as the shells exploded in and around the small defensives.

“COVER! OPEN FIRE!”

Andrews heard the shriek yell from his company commander and wasted no time in relaying the orders.

“Open in on ‘em! FIRING!” He yelled, suddenly the area around him exploded with flashes of light and bangs, as the section light 7.62mm machine gun opened up, followed by the soft pops from the infantry rifles and assault rifles. He heard the loud and steady clunk-clunk from the Company’s heavy weapon section’s 50 cal. Machine gun. There were more explosions in front of him now, rocking the defenses. Andrews could hardly see anything anymore, but continued firing, trying to pick his targets strategically, but was basically firing blind into the smoke. He could tell that the enemy fire was slowing down quickly in the face of the overwhelming display of firepower.

“Company! We’re moving up! Stay steady!” Andrews heard the next order from his Captain, Captain Andrea Smiths, he turned his head to face his section.

“Up, prepare to move, stay on me!” He shouted. The next instant he was up. The LMG gunner was still firing away, along with the 50 cal. Machine gun, more mortars were firing now, detonating all around, even behind, in the town, of the defenses. Andrews looked at the ground in front of them, it was mostly open with only a few bits of cover to note. It would be a quick dash and their only cover would be from the machine gunners and the mortars. Should be enough. The defenses were concentrated along the road, with only a few small outposts, mostly small sandbag emplacements, spread out in front of Andrews, most of these seemed silent, under the heavy barrage of gunfire.

Andrews suddenly felt a tapping on his shoulder. He turned to see his platoon commander on his left. The man was sweating profusely, his face smeared now with streaks of black dirt as the sweat mixed with the dirt covering all of them.

“Sergeant. You heard the orders. 2nd platoon, further on your right, they are going to sweep down and around the town. They are moving to that effect now. You are the spearhead from your position. Our platoon is the lead strike straight there.” He pointed to the small road leading out from what seemed to be a small neighborhood, where the silent sandbags were in position. “That’s our target, Charlie Company is taking the centre, under the barrage from the mortars.”

“Roger that, sir.” Andrews nodded at the man, before his lieutenant was off and moving down the line. The next moment he heard the man yelling the orders “Forward!” and Andrews was up, motioning his section up and forward. He darted straight ahead, noting the swarm of blue on both sides of him, as the rest of his company charged forward. He was crouched slightly, his rifle in his right hand, his other pumping rapidly to propel him forward. He looked forward, no sign of life in front of him. On his left he heard the crackle of enemy fire, engaging C Company as the moved straight forward into the teeth of the defenses. He would have to hurry.

He saw something just then. A brief glimpse of a man’s head popping up over a sandbag 100 metres in front of him. He looked down, and saw about 5 metres in front of him a shallow dip, his only cover.

“Cover!” He yelled. Diving forward into the dip, followed by the rest of the section. Just them the air around him was torn up by the fire from the sandbag right in front of him. He watched as his section’s LMG turned his attention to the sandbag, giving what protection he could. However, he also saw writhing masses of blue. Two of them, just to his left. Two soldiers had been hit.
“Stretcher bearer!” He yelled, then turned back to his section. Many of them had already started to return fire.

“Antonio, Regnier! Stay and give us cover, everybody else. On me! Up we go!” He barked out, before struggling up to his feet and charging forward, firing as he did. He couldn’t see movement from the sandbag anymore, but kept rushing forward. He saw as other blue figures darting past their own outposts into the town. Some firing at unseen targets, Others just running forward. He’s eyes glanced towards the main road. He saw blue on the road; motionless. Other blue figures were firing from the ditch that ran along both sides of the road, another tossing a grenade. Meanwhile the fire from the mortars was still targeting that centre position.

He returned his attention forward. He was almost at the target now. The next second he was at it, his rifle firing down on the opposite side, spraying blindly at whatever was there. He saw two bodies. Two dead enemies. He turned back, waving the men forward.

“We gotta flank that position!” He yelled out to no one in particular. He knew that everybody already knew what they had to do. The men were rushing forward, clearing the roads and houses as they did so. There was very little fire, most of the enemy either withdrawing or sprawled out dead or wounded along the streets. There were civilians there too, a few were dead or wounded as well, bust most were escaping or hiding through the battle.

Andrews arrived along the main road, seeing as dozens of enemy soldiers were rushing down the straight to escape being entirely encircled. Andrews turned back for a second, watching as the rest of his section rushed up alongside, before pulling his gun up and opening fire and the backs of the enemy as they started to escape.

Far back was Wharton, watching the entire assault unfold in front of him. He watched as the mortars battered away at the largest fortifications, and heavy weapons and machine gun fire swept the sandbag defenses guard the flanks and all other major entrances in and around the small trading outpost of a town. He watched as his infantry scrambled forward, ducking and dodging between whatever cover they had. B Company had the far left wing of the assault, while A Company took the right flank. C Company had the roughest job, to charge the middle and the heaviest defenses. They received the most support, most of the mortars and heavy mortars aimed down the main road, while most of the Dragoons and LMGs gave heavy doses of cover fire as the men made their assault.

Both flanking assaults had gone smoothly enough, only a few holdups and only a handful of casualties, while the infantry breached the line quickly, rushing into the town. For Charlie Company, the assault was slowed down quickly. Machine gun fire swept the men off of the road, so they dove down into the ditches lining both sides of the road. They moved carefully, covering each step with supporting fire and letting the mortars do what they could. As they saw their supporting flanks breach their lines and the fire in front of them begin to wane, they jumped back up and were off to the races. Pummeling whatever defenders were left lifeless in short order.

Wharton’s Battalion had suffered 5 men killed in the assault, and another 18 wounded, 6 of whom were walking wounded and would be able to return to the line in short order, while the others would certainly take longer, some barely hanging on to life as it was. Another man was initially counted as Missing in Action after the day’s after action roll call, however, he turned up, having gotten lost when the company had started to double time it to the front and had missed the entire action at the front line.

In all the assault was a success, the enemy had suffered 15 killed, another 10 were captured and an estimated 20 were wounded and managed to escape along with the remainder of the enemy force. It was the first successful combat mission, albeit it a very small one, in their mission. Their first important objective had been taken and the army was back on the move, sans a few soldiers and medical personnel to set up aid stations and security for the town, as well as government and commerce representatives who would be their to facilitate the integration of the town into the Commonwealth fully.

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Northern Border
Commonwealth Outpost – Reno
5th Borderers Regiment

Border security and duty was a boring and monotonous one, but an extremely important one. Not only to protect the Commonwealth from any bandit threat or raider organization, but also to secure trade and duties from the incoming trade and commerce from the surrounding settlements, most of whom made most of their profits from trading with the very wealthy Empire. They were the first and most important line of defense, but also the first in the line of communication with the outside world, often going on deep reconnaissance missions into the deep wastes, to see what was happening outside of their borders. There were, of course, several Catholic Missions set up outside of their border, and were often the first stop for their patrols, to gain intel from the mission and the locals that resided their, as well as to receive comfort and a hot meal from the Friars and Religious Sisters that worked it.

Today was a day that seemed no different than any other. A day of boredom for most of the soldiers there. The outpost held a regular duty of 25 men securing the main road in and out of the this area, the area heading north, out of Ohio and into the area known as Michigan. The actual garrison was basically a small fort, sans the walls that would be typical of such a emplacement. Walled fortifications were standard for border outposts, however, this outpost was a rather new one and walls had yet to built. Instead there were two concrete emplacements on each side of the road and 3 sandbag emplacements were set farther back while one 10 metre tower served the area, the top with a few metal barriers acted as the only protection up high. Barbed wire was stretched out as far as they had wire for, as well as trenches dug all around their barracks and parade ground. It wasn’t much, but it was enough protection to ward off the occasion bandit party attempting access into the nation. At any given moment there were patrols walking their perimeter, which was about 2 miles of area between them and the next outposts, which in turn were linked to the next and so on and so forth. Each outpost was connected via a radio connection and a quick response telegraph line, as well as the large base back in the town some 1 mile back from the Reno outpost.

In the guard tower today was Private Alex Washington. Washington, being the new guy, had drawn the short straw and was on the long duty for the whole day. It was a tiring and lonely job, sitting up along in the guard tower watching and waiting. Today had been mostly standard, a few traders coming in, but nothing much. Nothing compared to the outposts in the East, which were major trading hubs. Washington had seen the usual, but he was still new, only graduating 2 weeks ago and being on this station for less than that. He stared out over the expanse, watching a small dust cloud rolling over.

He suddenly sparked up, watching as the dust cloud was actually a large mass of people. He looked at his rifle, checking it was there, before grabbing his binoculars and staring out at them. It was a group of people heading up to the front. Behind them he saw the recon team, their horses kicking up dust fast as they rode hard and fast towards the outpost. Washington grabbed the bell alarm and rung it quickly.

“Attention! Attention! People incoming! Recon incoming!” he yelled out. The rest of the soldiers quickly jumped up and ran to their battle stations. They watched in awe as the group of, what were they? Refugees? They had no clue, but they were coming nonetheless. In front of them came the recon team. Lieutenant James was commanding the outpost, he waited as the recon time rode in, dismounting quickly. Sergeant Thomason jogged up to him and saluted.

“Sir!” He addressed him as he got in front.

“What the hell is going on here?” James asked, staring as the line of missionaries and mission dwellers started to trickle in.

“There has been rumours through the north of a massive organization of mechanised infantry and an army of robots.” He paused. James had of course heard of these stories, but assumed nothing more than ghost stories or something, not a real thing. Thomason continued, “Well… the rumours appear to be true, we ran into an army heavily armoured. Mechanised infantry, robots, soldiers. Over 1,000 men an we don’t know how many more are behind them. They looked like a serious threat. We kept our distance and we were not spotted, however, the St. Thomas Mission, these guys, we ran into ‘em along the way. They saw them coming and took the people living there and whoever else wanted to flee to safety with them, other missionaries went to warn the other missions. We should keep an eye for em.”

“Dear Lord.” James responded. He turned to the radio man. “Send out an alarm to HQ and all other outposts. Tell the to look out for refugees an missions incoming. Tell them an army is inbound and… get word to Regiment, tell them we are going to need a helluva lot more men than what we got. We need artillery and we might need to withdraw from here.”

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Charlotte, Carolina Commonwealth
Diplomatic Mission

“A diplomatic mission? From the ‘United Eerie Commonwealth’? I see. Was this mission forwarded ahead to our ambassadors?” The rough-hewn guard responded, a soldierly glare was permanently pressed on his face. Blackburn, a military careerist in his own right, looked back up at him from his small stature of 5’6. He was impressed with the display on show here, the sharply dressed olive uniform a picture perfect display of sharp cleanliness that was the equal of anything the Eerie Commonwealth could display. He was sure that these three ambassadors certainly stood out in their own right, the fashion of the day in Eerie seemingly different that that of Carolina. The two men were adorned with jet-black hats, along with jet black long coats over their soft suits. Samson, the only female representative, had a knee-length sold dress with an equal length light brown coat over top, a far more ornate hat adorned her head.

“Regretfully,” Blackburn began, addressing the guard. “We did not send any communique to your government. I am afraid we have broke protocol with this, however, this Commonwealth and all, is rather strange to us and we are unfamiliar with the system of functions and ordinances in this nation of yours. If you could, direct us to any proper authority by which we can begin to establish diplomatic relations, that would be most kind.”