NATION

PASSWORD

RoD: Chapter II| Fallout RP | Alt-Timeline | IC

For all of your non-NationStates related roleplaying needs!

Advertisement

Remove ads

User avatar
The Traansval
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9215
Founded: Jun 26, 2016
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Thu Mar 16, 2017 1:19 pm

Portland
Former territory of the US State of Maine, apart of the former New England Commonwealth
Currently, The Capital of the American Federation

March 4th, 2252


The Iroquois Helicopters blades whirred in a loud hum as it flew over the dry, aired wasteland that permeated itself all throughout the former US. Sergeant O'Leary held the pistol grip of his NY-MG, which was mounted on a swivel mount looking out of the side door of the helicopter. In the seats across from him, Ambassador Joseph Allen Carmichael and Diplomatic Agent Catherine Goodwill from the Department of Foreign Diplomacy were strapped down in their seats, flanked by two NYRA Trooper Escorts; One with a Quaker Rifle and the other with a NY-AR. The Co-Pilot leaned back from his seat to look into the back, and spoke to them through the radio in his headset.

Ensign Jameson (Co-Pilot): WE'RE COMING UP ON PORTLAND, TOUCH DOWN IN A FEW MINUTES.

Jameson got a thumbs up from the Ambassador, who went back to looking out of the side door over the landscape that extended underneath them. The view was amazing flying from a helicopter above the world. A farmstead came up beneath the Helicopter, and the workers stopped working and looked up in wonder at the flying green thing that was zooming over their heads.

After just moments, the Helicopter made its way into the airspace of Portland, the Capital of the American Federation.

The Iroquois slowed its speed and then began to decent, its rotors slowing, sending gusts of air downwards and kicking dust up in all directions. The metal struts on the bottom made contact with the soil, and the Ambassador bent his head as he jumped out of the aircraft. He was greeted by a Federation Representative.

Ambassador Carmichael: Ambassador Joseph Allen Carmichael, Representative of the Federal Republic of New York, here to meet with the Federation leader or his representative please.
Last edited by The Traansval on Thu Mar 16, 2017 10:11 pm, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
Zelent
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1984
Founded: Mar 22, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Zelent » Thu Mar 16, 2017 7:36 pm

The Grand Nebraskan Empire

March 1st

Foreword: Nebraska had grown exponentially in the past decade, annexing large swaths of Iowa, Colorado, Missouri, South Dakota and Kansas. It was now out terminal mass and in desperate need of a method by which to let off steam of the carefully orchewstrated machine that had built this massive holdings over the Plains. The coffers were at a state that required a near constant supply of bottlecaps that could be smelted into aluminum coins by the treasury to feed the ever hungry budget, needing money for the nations economic development of the captured lands and the surplus sized military that had been orchestrated during this time. Can the Nebraskan Empire, and Emperor Sylvester II aleviate this pressure, while maintaining the loyalty of the government National Independence Party, who depended upon the populist base of blue collar workers, farmers and small merchants, who might grow disenhartened if immigrants threatened their jobs or if their taxes were too high.



Imperial Estate:
On a cold early March evening, Sylvester II sat alone next to his fireplace in his study, not much noise was happening in the Estate anyway. The Empress Julia and his youngest daughter, Sofia had already gone to sleep, his son Jericho was in Lincoln again at the Army Academy, having just returned after Winter Break. Night's like these, with the wind howling lightly outside across the plains past the rocky outcrop on the outskirts of North Platte witch the Imperial Estate sat on, nights like these were Sylvester's favorite. The halls of the estate were dead quiet except for the ocasional sentry passing by or a staff member attending to their duties. Sylvester was expecting one of his generals, Buffalo Storm soon, they had some important business to talk about, that Sylvester hoped would alleviate some of the pressure coming upon the budget.

*Knock knock*
"Yes, enter." resigned the Emperor
Emperor, greeted the young general to his master as he entered, Sylvester motioned for him to take a seat.
General Storm, you saw my memo regarding the early disbandment of your Tribal Auxiliaries in exchange for one final strategic campaign, yes?
Yes Empeor, I have read it.
Sighing tiredly at Storms direct answering of questions. he elaborated the questionI want to know General Storm, some elements of importance. Firstly, how loyal do the chieftans, and by extension your people of the Winnipegi and Manitobian tribes stand in regards to the Nebraskan Empire?

It's a difficult topic. My people appreciate your decision to grant my people refuge status in your lands and the regular shipments of grain, to make up for the loss of their working men to your army, but they are growing tired of their nomadic lifestyle. They want a final place they can be told is theirs, which they can cultivate and herd on, and that they won't be


North of Le Mars Iowa
Two day's after his meeting with the Emperor, General Storm had rallied the cheiftans and the tribal auxillaries for the final campaign that would prematurely grant their tribes citizenships, thus dismissing them from the Nebraskan governments payroll, and keeping them seperated for the time being for the rest of the nation, else internal strife develop. The Winnipegi and Manitoba had been offered 14,400 sq miles in what used to be southwestern Minnesota, that they could live on, cultivate and develop their own exclave, still loyal to the empire upon. Storm would leave with the main contingent of his army, march into the promised reservation and force the capitulation of the local people alongside any Nebraskans who had already settled their, offering them citizenship as well for their subservience. The process would take a couple months, and after the land was relatively stable their tribes would go in, and they'd return to the lives they held in the homeland, trading and farming and logging for profit.
Support: Universal Health Care, Nationalism, Conscription, Infrastructure Investment, Border Wall, Workfare, Freedom, Bill of Rights, Social market economics, Cannabis decriminalization, Ukrainian Independence, All Lives Matter

Neutral: Trump,

Against: Clinton, TPP/NAFTA/CAFTA, European Union, Political Correctness, Black Lives Matter, Drug Abuse, Lobbyists, ISIS

User avatar
The Traansval
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9215
Founded: Jun 26, 2016
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Thu Mar 16, 2017 10:35 pm

Office of Director Jameson
4th Floor, delegated to the Department of Foreign Diplomacy
Inside the New York City Federal Government Build No. 5
New York City, Capital of the Federal Republic of New York

March 4th, 2252


Director Henry Jordan Jameson sat at his large oak desk as he pressed his stamp onto a paper authorizing the use of a Federal Jeep by a diplomatic agent. Director Jamesons's position made him a key figure in the New York Administration, he was at the head of all Diplomatic Operations being undertaken by New York, and many would think this would make him a larger than life figure. But sadly, instead of being a millionaire playboy/badass assassin who resolves all diplomatic problems with his astronomical charisma, Jamesons jobs was beyond mundane, some times down right fucking boring.

Sure, Jameson is a key figure in sending out Diplomats, but he doesn't do the actual negotiating. He can, but thats usually reserved for extremely major negotiations. In reality, the Directors life is consumed by spending hours at the little computer monitor on his desk, reading field reports and manifests and any report you can think of. The only things that broke the cycle of paperwork was when he was handed a sheet that required his approval, and also assigning agents to foreign positions. The latter, was what was going on now.

Diplomatic Agent James Carter knocked twice and then turned the handle on the large, solid oak door that was the entrance to the office of Director Jameson. The office was nothing normal; on the walls next to the door were photo's of the Director and his family, along with a couple of degrees from the Academy. His desk was solid oak, and he sat at a leather chair with two similar chairs in front of his desk, with one being occupied by Diplomatic Agent Catherine Corde. Behind the desk was a wall of glass, letting in sunlight from outside and providing a view of the Hudson River and Hudson City.

Diplomatic Agent James Carter: I apologize for my lateness Director.

Director Jameson: Your excused Agent Carter, but do try to be more on time in the future. Sit down, please. I was just informing Agent Corde of your assignment.

Carter nodded and sat down in the open chair, the leather he could tell was new, Brahmin, not pre-war.

Director Jameson: Your being sent to Chicago. Capital of the Great Lakes Commonwealth. While its conquest of Ohio put a damper on some of our politicians plans for expansion, the threat of New Rome to the north is far greater. We hope that the threat of New Rome, along with promises of Land, can persuade the Great lakes to form a Alliance or at the very least Defensive Pact between our two nations, so as to provide a common defense. I cannot stress the importance of this mission. You'll both be taking a Iroquois Helicopter to Chicago, stopping at Buffalo to refuel. Dismissed Agents.

The two Agents nodded and left the room, bound for Chicago.



Chicago
Capital of the Great Lakes Commonwealth

March 6th, 2252


The metal struts of the Army Green Iroquois Helicopter touched down in the dirt outside the city of Chicago. The side Gunner took his hands off the grip of his NY-MG and pointed it down towards the dirt. Agent Carter and Agent Corde bent over as they exited the craft, its rotors slowing to a stop as the dust around the vehicle settled. A Great Lakes Representative, flanked by Guards, stood waiting for them.

Agent Carter: Greetings. I am Diplomatic Agent James Carter, this is Diplomatic Agent Catherine Corde. We are from the Department of Foreign Diplomacy, and represent the Federal Republic of New York. We humbly request a audience with His Royal Majesty, King Cornelius of House Comstock, or his Representative.

User avatar
Parcia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7452
Founded: Feb 11, 2016
Democratic Socialists

Postby Parcia » Fri Mar 17, 2017 8:01 am

A front page article in the “Castio Times” reads as fallows
Today is a day of celebration in the Republic, as it marks the day the first of the many dry docks at Naval Station Mayport has been cleared. The birth, a small one built to tend smaller class ships, took nearly 3 years to fully clear and rebuild with a large amount of scrap being taken and used. Similar efforts have been under way for some time now, with the next birth, another small ship birth, is due to be cleared by the end of the year.
This is exciting to the Republican leadership as it is the first step in regaining Naval capacity that the state held before the war. Another exciting discovery is made today as a group of scrappers came across what appears to be the mostly intact hull and super superstructure of a ship, one that has been identified as a “Wickes Class” Destroyer. Historical records indicate that the ship itself was a reproduction model build for museum purposes in the early 1990s and despite this, it appears it was built to be a fully sea worthy vessel yet it appears it was either laid up for repair or was simply never launched.
Regardless, it appears the main battery guns and the ammo for them was removed and has yet to be found in the surviving store houses in Mayport.

Jacksonville
Forman Falcone
While the navy was busy rebuilding itself in the south, the old city of Jacksonville was also a buzz with new information. The Forman looked through his office window as the first shift of workers came in to start the first day of the first week since the factory had been set up. The building itself used to be some indoor sports complex, something called “Arena Football”.
The factory itself was largely set up for making small things, nails, screws, and the like until larger tooling could be found and the production base moved from Mayport up to Jacksonville.

TO the east, the scouting party had secured Lake city, finding it deserted and sent for reinforcements and construction units. The Party to the south, sent to Cape Canaveral had yet to report in.
So apparently Cobalt has named me a Cyber terrorist, I honestly don't know to be Honored or offended.
Right leaning Centrist from Florida No I am not The Floridaman...hes my uncle. Other then that dont @ me about politics, im leaving that
hell hole behind until I leave Uni.
I reserve all rights to my posts, OCs, and contributions to any threads I post on.
I'm a Catholic too, figure that shit out!
http://www.threadbombing.com/data/media ... e_Lock.gif storage
Hooyah Navy.

User avatar
Alinora
Minister
 
Posts: 2501
Founded: Jun 10, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Alinora » Fri Mar 17, 2017 9:32 am

Image
- THE INSTITUTE -



Boston Harbor | The Commonwealth
R8-52 - "Sarah Black"


The same person who had met the representatives from the UPVT was waiting for them at the Institute's Surface Headquarters, located in what was formerly the capitol building of the Boston Empire, in the center of Diamond City. She listened closely as they explained what they wanted - the primary request being access to the Commonwealth's vaults. When they had concluded listing all of their requests, Sarah Black shifted in her seat and crossed her legs, then began to speak. "There is only one Vault that we know to still be inhabited: Vault 81. We have contacted them, and as per agreement, they are to remain self-governing, under the rule of the Institute. The other vaults in the region... 111, 114, 75, 88... they've all been abandoned, as far as we know. Vault 75 is the only vault we haven't been able to access."

User avatar
Intermountain States
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1903
Founded: Oct 12, 2014
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Intermountain States » Fri Mar 17, 2017 12:12 pm

March 1st, 2252.
New Mexico


The conflict in the New Mexican region was over to the surprise of the high ranking officers planning for the conflict. The analysts expected heavy fightings that would've lasted months before they would reach the Arizonan border. With the tenacity the opposition forces fought in Las Cruces and Santa Fe, bringing heavy casualties to both sides, they were expecting more resistance west of Albuquerque. But after their victory in Albuquerque, the opposition force gave up momentum and the region west of Albquerque was relatively deserted of Creator activities except for a few holdouts. Most of the Creator's Army forces they encountered simply surrendered and were taken to prison camps where they were given food and water. There were an increase in raider activities though but they were disorganized and were put down with little trouble.

When the representative from the Creator's Army came to the new FOB in Las Cruces, things started to make more sense. The representative claimed that the Creator have moved to Sonora and was willing to cede the region of New Mexico as long as the Texas Commonwealth allow the remnants of their Army in the region a safe passage. General Martin Haywood, prefering a diplomatic outcome, agreed to such a proposal but warned the representative that any hostile unit they encountered will be put down with no hesitation.

After the negotiations, the war for New Mexico was over to say the least. The military had plans for annexation of New Mexico and the eventual invasion of Arizona (which would require much more manpower due to the relative chaos in Arizona after the vacancy of the Creator with a power struggle between potential gangs and raider groups) but for now, it's time to prepare the newly acquired territory to join the Commonwealth. Some of the preparations for the region include splitting the region across the Rio Grande into West Rio and East Rio, appointing military governors for the states, and open settlements and towns into forming city councils and state legislatures for future elections.

Fort Worth, Texas

The news from New Mexico had reached the core regions of Texas with positive receptions from the general public with folks waving the Lone Star flag and celebrations being found across the country. There were some celebrations among government officials as well but the majority of the military officers knew that the victory in New Mexico means uncertainty in Arizona. The military stationed in New Mexico are now in the holding phase, establishing patrols and checkpoint along with building up local militias against raider factions.

The conflict in Arizona would likely to be bigger than in New Mexico, especially if the Soviets would be involved. The military will have to build their strength before they head to Phoenix. This will entail more men, vehicles, and artilleries. The Commonwealth government placed an order for fifty artillery pieces and forty trucks with various defense contractors. And for good measures, the engineers at Fort Killian were also instructed to build a M4A3E8 for their arsenal.

Fort Sill, Oklahoma

Ronald Curtis sat down with General Dixon. The news of New Mexico was sudden and he was embarrassed to ask to withdraw the letter, but he has other things to tell the Concord general.

"As you may know, Texas has a large mining sector of uranium," he begins. "As we're in constant need of finding any form of energy, I believe that we can work together to utilize these uraniums into nuclear and fusion core technology. It will take a while but the effects will be beneficial for both of us. What do you say?"

Vidalia, Louisiana

As part of the nation's effort to find sources of low-cost energy, plans were made to utilize the Sidney A. Murray Jr Hydroelectic Station to power up Vidalia and the surrounding cities. Using the Mississippi River, the power effect would be minor in terms of scale but state officials are expecting a couple of cities in both Louisiana and Jackson bordering the Mississippi to benefit from the dam.

Keesler Air Force Base, Jackson

"We have news of a city filled with medical marvels found only in what we believe to be former Atlanta, Georgia," Colonel Able Cutter said to a team of Havocers as they walk to one of the Vertibirds. "We want you to investigate this city and see if you can establish diplomatic relations with the inhabitants if the rumors are true," he said. "Former Senator Lucy Abeja of Jackson will be the diplomat so try to keep her from being killed. You will be representing this nation so please don't put us in any international incident."

"You can count on us sir," Captain Lester Avery said. "Where is the Senator, anyways?"

"She's standing by the Vertibird you will be riding in," Cutter said pointing at a bored woman with two other people. "Any other question?" he asked as the men entered the bird.

"Nothing at all sir," Avery responded.

"Good, dismissed," Cutter said, saluting at the men as the Vertibird risen from the ground and flew from the base.
I find my grammatical mistakes after I finish posting
"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed"
Lunatic Goofballs wrote:I'm a third party voter. Trust me when I say this: Not even a lifetime supply of tacos could convince me to vote for either Hillary or Trump. I suspect I'm not the only third party voter who feels that way. I cost Hillary nothing. I cost Trump nothing. If I didn't vote for third party, I would have written in 'Batman'.

If you try to blame me, I will laugh in your face. I'm glad she lost. I got half my wish. :)
Search boxes are your friends

User avatar
Fascist Republic Of Bermuda
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1975
Founded: Apr 28, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Fascist Republic Of Bermuda » Fri Mar 17, 2017 2:20 pm

Union of Soviet Socialist Settlements

The Glow, USSS
March 1st, 2252


"Do not make me laugh, capitalist!" The Commissar was rightly angered. One did not simply ignore the history of Union, taught into every citizen of the USSS from the smallest farm collective to Novaya Moskva, "We know our own history! From the foundations of Marx in the oppressive capitalist 1800s, to the Revolution Comrade Lenin sparked against the Tzars in the Red October of 1917, to the reign of the incompetent enemy of the people Gorbachev, whose foolish machinations and so-called 'compromises' with the Maoist traitors and Yankee pig-dogs led to the decline of our glorious Union. But with the nuclear war, the Red Fleet set out and landed here, where we shall free the working class worldwide!" It was a lovingly impassioned speech of the type Commissars were most well known for, meant to rile up the men and women of the Red Army. Such was the NKVD's job, reinforce the communist spirit that dominated the USSS. And if a few had to die as examples, or "disappear" in the process, then such was Marx's will!
N U T S !

User avatar
Waztaskio
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7077
Founded: Jun 09, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Waztaskio » Fri Mar 17, 2017 5:32 pm

Image



Ridgecrest, California - March 1st, 2252

Paladin Charid remained unimpressed with the Commissar, as he merely shook his head. "Commissar, indoctrination is strong in you I see. We are not enemies. Nor are we allies. The Soviet Union and the United States knew this well. The Soviets established diplomatic missions into the United States, and opened consulates to engage in dialogue. They didn't go to war against each other. They didn't kill each other. The only enemy of the United States, was China. Not the soviets. This is why I ask, why such the hostility towards capitalist? Because if you truly were following soviet doctrine as set by the soviet government, you would not harbor this hostility. Maybe it's because you truly don't know know anything about the country your serve or it's ideals, and some dictator has indoctrinated you into believing his own fantasy of what actually happened. Or maybe, you're doing this on purpose to have it serve for your own means. Whatever the case, it didn't come from the soviet union of the old days. This ideology you speak of, came right out of the American wasteland. Or...the Capitalist Wasteland, if you prefer."



Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado Springs - October 23rd, 2077

Scribe Pierce had over the year period from his original conversation from Mr. House, managed what was thought to be impossible. After making a deal with Mr. House, he did indeed manage to deliver his side of the bargain as requested to which Mr. House agreed to personally loan him the money requested, so long as he stayed on for at least another year to help with any technical issues and such for which he was also paid. By August of 2066, Pierce had managed to garner a fortune of 1.2 million from his workings with Mr. House with his intelligent deals and agreements, and invested all of the funds into bets that the United States would be at war with China within six months. With the returns projecting 65%, due to people believing that he couldn't be right they were all shocked when he had won. Within only a year, Pierce had made a total of 1,980,000 million dollars. In December of 2066, Pierce used his money to create "Eagle Industries," focusing on construction.

From 2066, to 2069. Eagle Industries would gain many contracts from Vault-Tec, Posedian Energy, Robco, and other smaller businesses and firms to take over certain construction projects which would allow the reputation of the company to grow in size. Being supported by Robert House, also helped Eagle Industries to begin contact with defensive companies such as West-Tek and Yuma Flats Energy Consortium which inspired Eagle Industries to invest into weapons production and advanced technologies. During this time the companies organization was fully charted out into offices and bureaus to better organize the structure.

-Eagle Industries
--Department of Company Affairs
---Bureau of Personnel and Resources
----Office of Finance and Budget
----Office of Employee Affairs
---Bureau of Accountability and Management
----Office of General Counsel
----Office of the Board of Directors
----Office of Distribution and Marketing
----Office of Publications and Technology
--Department of Manufacturing and Research
---Bureau of Construction
----Office of Supervisors
---Bureau of Weapons Production
----Office of Research and Development
----Office of Supervisors
---Bureau of Technological Advancement
----Office of Future Technologies
----Office of Future Materials
----Office of Predictions and Assessment


Scribe Pierce, now known as Chief Executive Officer Franklin Pierce to the world, focused a majority of his time focusing on the Bureau of Technological Advancement more then any other department in his company, leaving the Board to mostly take over certain sections to ensure they survive and expand. Pierce knew that with his knowledge, he could fully produce a functioning suit of Power Armor within a year based on his knowledge of the T-51b, T-45d, and even T-60. However, despite knowing this. He chose not to outperform West-Tek in favor of something else. Pierce had decided, that in order to be most helpful to his post-apocalyptic friends, he would need to provide them with resources they had not yet had. His original goal in starting the construction company, was to use the money generated from the military projects and such to build secret bunkers across the United States in which only the Brotherhood would be able to access. Pierce however, changed his mind after meeting with the heads of West-Tek and Yuma to include a more ambitious plan.

Although Pierce opened a weapons division within Eagle Industries, he knew that no matter what weapons he could end up producing, how little help it would be in the long run to the Brotherhood. However, he kept the weapons division in order to draw in more profits from the expanding Sino-American war which he logged down in his journals in order to also share with the Brotherhood. In the end, Pierce's real goal was to secretly build the bunkers across the country for the BoS to operate out of if needed with built in defenses, but also store certain technologies to help them expand and grow. The Bureau of Technological Advancement was ordered to begin producing technologies designed to assist with this purpose. The orders to achieve these goals were as follows;

  • Creation of rapid communication technologies, to link various bunkers together without the need of a satellite.
  • Creation of "Black Sites," or sites in which various hidden factories are housed. For manufacturing and research purposes.
  • Creation of contingency plans, for a post-apocalyptic scenario. Designed to continue research on select projects in the event of nuclear-war.
  • Archiving of all knowledge of the world into secure locations. Accessible to future generations with appropriate codes.


These orders were kept secret from everyone within Eagle Industries, with the exception of Pierce and the science teams in the Bureau of Technological Advancement. From 2070-2077, the orders were carried out. All the preparations were in place under the orders of Pierce. Although by this point, due to the lack of oversight of the company Eagle Industries teedered on collapse. Pierce didn't care. His ultimate goal, of providing a means for his Brothers to have a fighting chance was the ultimate goal since the moment he was transported back in time. The list of developments from the Bureau of Technological Advancements over the seven years were as follows;

  • Complex 01 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Belview, Minnesota. Built as a location to hold the true and detailed pre-war history of the USA and logs of Pierce. One of four locations.
  • Complex 02 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Keene, Ohio. Built as a location to hold the true and detailed pre-war history of the USA and logs of Pierce. One of four locations.
  • Complex 03 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Copeland, Florida. Built as a location to hold the true and detailed pre-war history of the USA and logs of Pierce. One of four locations.
  • Complex 04 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Gabbs, Nevada. Built as a location to hold the true and detailed pre-war history of the USA and logs of Pierce. One of four locations.
  • Complex 05 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Ojito, New Mexico. Built as a location to research Hei Gui Stealth Armor, even after the events of nuclear war.
  • Complex 06 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Wortham, Missouri. Built as a location to research agriculture technologies, even after the events of nuclear war.
  • Complex 07 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Turner, Washington. Built as a location to research agriculture technologies, even after the events of nuclear war.
  • Complex 08 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Herod, Illinois. Built as a location to manufacture materials, products, and supplies.
  • Complex 09 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Westfield, North Dakota. Built as a location to manufacture materials, products, and supplies.
  • Complex 10 - An Eagle Industries bunker, located in Weld, Maine. Built as a location to manufacture materials, products, and supplies.

Although more facilities were planned, these were the only ones that were managed to be completed in time. On October 22nd, Pierce scheduled a flight to Colorado Springs, landing in the early morning as he proceeded to make his way to the location of the Cheyenne Military Complex. When the sirens began to ring hours later, Pierce knew this was his chance. He rushed through the gates of the complex without much resistance due to the scrambling of trying to pull the troops into the base, and managed to get inside before the doors closed and nuclear bombs began to obliterate the countries. He sighed in relief, as he thought of what all he had accomplished, but he soon came face to face with a man who would be burned into his sight for the rest of his days.

"What's your name, son?" A man dressed in Power Armor, without his helmet said. As Pierce looked him over, he simply couldn't believe it. He knew the stories, and saw the pictures, but never imagined he would see....Roger Maxson, in person. "I said, what's your name son?" With the initial shock wearing off from Pierce, he finally managed to answer. "Pierce...Franklin Pierce." This caused Maxson to look him over, as he begin to scratch his head in confusion. "Franklin Pierce? The CEO of Eagle Industries? What the hell are you doing here and not in some fancy vault?" Pierce would merely shrug, not entirely knowing how to respond to the question. "Well, regardless. Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain. We'll most likely be getting to know each other more over the time together. Enjoy the shithole." And with that, Maxson wrote his name down and continued to take accountability. "Well sir...if there's one thing I've learned...It's that nothing beats home. And I'm glad to be back." Pierce would smile, as he looked to all the confused individuals wondering what was going to be there next move. Feeling at peace, for the only time in his life.

In the year 2100, Pierce would finally die. And all records of his existence as a Brotherhood scribe would conflict with records of a Pierce being an original survivor with High Elder Roger Maxson. Although these conflicting reports are on the books, nobody can for sure tell what truly happened with Scribe Pierce. But at the same time, nobody really cared to find out. What they did care about though, was certain caches that Pierce talked about in certain places when he was alive. He had provided the coordinates and exact locations, but the Brotherhood had never sent teams to investigate his claims. Maybe one day...they might, or they may just rot away. But until then, the legacy of Pierce will remain conflicted among Brotherhood members, with many questioning if he even existed at all...
Last edited by Waztaskio on Fri Mar 17, 2017 5:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
The Traansval
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9215
Founded: Jun 26, 2016
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Fri Mar 17, 2017 7:20 pm

Office of the Chief of the Department of Ordnance

Federal Republic of New York


Lt. General Keith Thompson sat at his desk, when a paper came up at the top of his stack of papers. It was from Project Behemoth, and it was asking him to approve going ahead with a select key sub projects. There was the Landship Project, the Scout Craft Project (Which includes the research into a Biplane and Scout Blimp), and the Naval Projects which involved the production of Patrol Boats and Torpedo Boats and research into larger Warships.

Lt. General Thompson quickly looked over the report before stamping his seal at the bottom, authorizing the projects

User avatar
NewLakotah
Minister
 
Posts: 2168
Founded: Feb 18, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby NewLakotah » Fri Mar 17, 2017 7:43 pm

Carbine, Chicago
House Comstock
Great Lakes Commonwealth


James White sits across from the King of the Commonwealth himself. He smiles, trying to keep the positive energy going. The stern, emotionless face that greets him dampens that energy. He cocks his head slightly. He couldn’t be sure. Was this the face of the King? Was he displeased with him? Had he caused offence? Would they have informed him if such offence had been given?

These questions swirled in his head as he sat across from the room. The importance of his mission could not be stressed enough. An alliance could secure the future of the entire Plains Nations. Threats from all over, particularly from the south, endangered the Plains Nations. Seeking a strong partner and ally could further the abilities of the Plains Nations. Securing their future and ensuring their lasting success and dominance over the plains. An alliance would benefit both parties immensely. Something that he had to ensure that the message was clearly delivered to the king.

All of this rolled through White’s head during the brief silence as King Cornelius stared at him. Then the King broke the silence.

“I hear you have a proposal, Ser White.” The King finally says. White bows his head and clears his throat in response. He takes in a short breath then jumps into the heart of it.

“Thank you, your Majesty. Yes, I do. First, I would like to say that it is an honour, sir. An honour to represent the Plains Nations in this diplomatic endeavour. I am sure that rumours of my people predate my arrival. Filled, as I am sure, with stories of our savagery, brutality, lack of innovation or education or civilization. I can assure you, you Majesty, that this is far from the truth. Yes, the Plains Nations can be brutal in war, as war is. Yes, our people’s lives are based around the horse. There is no better substitute on the terrain of the plains. No need for long supply caravans of fuel to support the army. The mountains of the north and the Badlands are rigorous and difficult. Our warriors are seconded to none in their combat and in their horsemanship. Most start riding almost before they can walk. Even for the society, training for the warriors begins young. This is necessitated by the harsh conditions of the plains. Conditions that would leave many dead, as it already has. Yet, despite these conditions, the Confederacy has thrived. Building a civilization that has been forged through war and secured through peace.

“We believe that it would be in the best interest of both of our nations to establish a strong alliance between your Kingdom and our Chiefdom. The differences in cultures aside, there are many similarities that would bond our nations together. Contracts and goodwill can be broken at a whim, but the bonds of family stay strong. Family is the strongest factor in this world. This is why the Chief has proposed this marriage, between Prince Solomon and the High Princess of the Plains. I do believe that this marriage would be good for both of them, especially after meeting with him earlier, and beneficial for both of us. Our nation is strong, as is yours, making this alliance strong. As threats mount, particularly from the South. The Nebraskan Empire. They have continued to expand, moving all around us. We believe that an alliance between both of our nations, that this threat could be… dealt with. Quickly and effectively. I do hope that we would be able to work out some arrangement that would be pleasing to you, Your Majesty.”
"How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong like right." ~~ Black Hawk, Sauk

"When it comes time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home." ~~ Tecumseh

Free Leonard Peltier!!

User avatar
Zepplien
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6750
Founded: Oct 10, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Zepplien » Sat Mar 18, 2017 9:32 am

Vault City, Northern Nevada
11th of March

The First Citizen stood before the gates of his city, two squads of guards arrayed next to him, the laser turrets of the city prepared to protect its walls. Before them though, there sat rocket trucks raised and ready to fire. A large mechanized unit of UPVT troops waited alongside their trucks. The Vault Loyalty inspector following the Vault Tec diplomat forward to speak with the first citizen, the old man looking over the trucks, machines, and soldiers of war. "So it is going to be like that is it?" the First Citizen asked, the Vault Tec ambassador nodding slowly as he half turned to look over the trucks "Your upland city will be destroyed if you resist. We are sibling Vaults, we should not be reduced to such.... Uncouth squabbling." "You are the one that is here with those damn missile trucks." the First Citizen spat back, but was countered by a held up hand by the Vault Tec Ambassador "Who repaired Gecko Power Facility?" "Well you of c-" "And who organized to have the den burned to the ground?" "You again b-" "And who has protected their Vault 8 brothers and sisters from the Bishop family who tried to foment revolution among your uplanders?" The First Citizen sighed, rubbing his chin, the previous First Citizen had never paid the debt of their many tabs to the UPVT, and now... "And now it is time to collect our sovereignty?" the Vault Ambassador nodded, indicating the Vault Loyalty Inspector "Mrs. Chase here will be overseeing your government, advising you on your choices. Assuming you do agree to our annexation." the First Citizen gave a simple shrug of his shoulders "Do we have a choice?" "Not really." the Ambassador offered back.

"Hellooooo ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, this is Vault Tec Vicky. Today I would like to say that our Overseer council got off its collective fat ass and finally did something, because it isn't just idol talk anymore, we have finally annexed Vault 8. Some of you wastelanders may recognize it as Vault City instead of Vault 8, and its economic prosperity shall bring new life to the UPVT's medical trade monopoly over the wasteland. Furthermore new contracts have been drawn up in Santo Rosa to provide an excess of implants to our people. At last, this technology will be affordable within the next few years." she took a sip of cola "Now, onto the even bigger news of the week, perhaps the biggest news in our history. The Overseer Council has passed a law stating that all land north of the Soviet boarder, and belonging to the former state of California are now under the protection of the United Protectorate of Vault Tec. Any raiders, tribal, or other group who does not wish to deal with law and order has one month to leave." there was a shuffling of papers "Good riddance, we don't need those useless eaters in our beloved California. Let them flee to those Soviets, let them flee into the wasteland, and let them feed off of our production no more! We are the uplifted wastelanders, the loyal uplanders, and the children of the Vaults, we need none in our lands who do not see the true way of things! Vault Safe, Vault Secure ladies and gentlemen."

Vault 36, Near Neo Jose
11th of March

Vault Loyalty Inspector Laura Smith walked through the open door of Vault 36, her aide following her closely as the 36ers sneered at the young man who looked as weak as he was. "Now Nicolas, you must project power, let everyone know simply by the way you walk how you are a member of the most superior race." they were both from a Control Vault, Vault 9 for Laura, and 3 for her aide, holding a somewhat uppity opinion of themselves for this reason, though it was far from codified like the caste separations. They were there on a mission, one that was not quite routine, but one that would be quite a good example of the strangeness that the job could entail. They had spoken to Agent Alexov of the NKVD earlier that day, and he had confirmed their fears, the extra large super mutant in the atrium of beloved and precious Vault 36 was no defector as they had thought. The ambassador from the Creator had also confirmed that it was not a servant of the Creator, but instead was a rouge element of the wasteland. An uplander mutant in the middle of a Vault... Even the most degenerate of Vault 36 commanders should have seen the crimes there, but they would be reminded of their place once more. Laura saw two fully armed raiders talking over a table, sitting with a cola each like they were not carrying a small army worth of weapons on them. "You two, come with me." the peaked cap and V/T on them caused the two raiders to stand with a grumble of "Goddamn spooks." shared by one as they followed.

"Raider Senior!" VLI Smith barked out, one hand on her Desert Eagle, the groups of Vault 36ers, Neo Jose Raiders, and opportunistic wastelanders looked on at the Vault Loyalty Inspector as she showed off her badge. "You are hereby accused of treason, espionage, lying on your immigration forums, and upsetting the natural order of the way. You will be brought in on my authority as a Vault Loyalty Inspector, you understand suspect 24601?" the attention had come from the First Sword at this point, the man making his way over to the VLI "Papers please." he asked, the woman's aide taking out several documents "Here we are sir, his warrant, and out proof of VLI links. This is sufficient?" it took a few moments of looking over the paper work for the First Sword to nod "Yes, we did not realize such crimes." standing aside as the Vault Loyalty Inspector stepped forward, drawing her pistol "You will lay down flat on your chest, and place your hands behind your back."


Hoover Dam, Suspected City State of Hoover
12th of March

Ambassador Stevens had been told about the Hooverites, the degenerate Power Armoured troops who laid claim to the pre war facility, and thus the greatest source of water in the Mojave, along with one of the largest power plants on the west coast. He carried a white flag as a show of being friendly, while his Neo Fransisco guards carried pulse weapons, and not one but two carried radio packs. "Attention, attention, we have arrived at Hoover dam." one radio operator said with a terrified voice to their waiting vehicles who in turn relayed it back to base. The Ambassador stopped when he saw guard, keeping his hands raised as he moved forward "I am here from the UPVT, we participated in the partition of the Mojave with you? I am here with authorization from my government and diplomatic immunity." he hesitantly lowered his arms, his guards following slowly. "We have come to make you an offer... You are a small state, a weak state in the path of annexation from those around you. We wish to offer you a place within the UPVT, your dam would provide us with water, and power, in exchange we would protect you from attack from any great power." he paced slightly, handing off the white flag as he regained his confidence. These were degenerates, bunker mold at best, he was a child of Vault 16, nothing like their weakling kind. "You will not have representation on our Overseer council, but you will be Vault Tec safe, and Vault Tec secure. Of course refusal of our kind offers is... Unwise to say the least, as I am sure you have heard of Modesto." a radioactive hellscape that had beaten the Vault Tec ambassador who had been sent to them, and subsequently been devastated by the Church of Atom's dirty bombs, alongside artillery bombardment. "They dared to bite the hand that feed them, and we dealt with them as one should deal with lesser peoples. Your people, they are much smarter are they not? So bring your leader here at once, so that I might recognize them, and have them confirm your undying loyalty to Vault Tec."

Diamond City, Commonwealth
"Abandoned Vaults are still worth more than an uplander city to my people. Such gifts will bear the sweetest fruit in our relations, payment as cruise as bottlecaps, or exotic as Japanese silks." Ambassador Wilkins offered, a flare for the melodramatic in his speech as was true of many UPVT ambassadors, raised in the confines of Vault 16. "If Vault 81 is inhabited we would ask only that we be allowed to meet with their Overseer in private to confirm their good treatment by you, as we very much believe in the self determination of Vaults." that was a half truth at best, as the UPVT proved time and time again that it was not for self determination, but for slow diplomatic annexation that could be mistaken for outside persons choosing to join rather than a dedicated force of propaganda and gifts to perspective groups who wished to join, normally with some threats mixed in if they took too long like Vault 69 had. "Furthermore, madam, I ask that the Commonwealth Vaults be placed under the protection of the Institute, as per our agreement to leave them unarmed. Our main desires lay with preserving our Vault Tec heritage and collecting any special items that the Vaults may have." 'special items', a code for GECKs, along with irreplaceable items such as super computers. He bowed deeply "We humble ourselves before you, ready for your terms to acquisition such Vaults."

Vault 118, Far Harbor
Martha Klein sat in a chair in the dining hall, reading her pip boy as she thumbed at the cash she had been paid by the Bostonians to come all the way out here. She was a Neo Franciscan kid, had done four years in the People's Liberation Navy working on the beached submarine Shi-huang-ti to pay for her college courses after the G.O.A.T., getting her degree in nuclear physics to compliment her time working on the great submarine's reactor core. From what she understood the Bostonians had an old submarine they wanted her to help restore thanks to her combinations of skills as a nuclear technician and as a native speaker of Mandarin. She could care less about how the UPVT felt about her helping the Empire rebuild a sub, as an Uplander Citizen she had freedom to work outside the UPVT, and the freedom of movement, and the Empire had offered her 130k Caps for one year of her life, in addition to her accommodation and meals. It didn't stop her from being bored as shit, as she didn't want to spend money to enjoy herself when it could be a nice house in Neo Fransisco when she got back there.

From; Over Group Leader of Vault Tec Experimental Genetic Modification Industries, Leslie Harper
Addressing he who is known as the Creator, my group and I are prepared to accept your deal, however such funding must be ongoing as this project will take a considerable amount of time by even our most optimistic projections. We will also require a sample of FEV for our research to begin, and in addition we reserve all rights for this data to be used by the Overseer Council as that it might undertake projects with such knowledge. Included with this letter the delivery person shall provide two special entry passes for two of your super mutants (To escort the FEV alongside the gold to begin work), and a diplomatic passport so that you might replace your messenger with a proper diplomat. We look forward to grand relations, and shall keep you abreast of our progress at all points.
Vault Safe, Vault Secure
Last edited by Zepplien on Tue Mar 21, 2017 8:03 am, edited 2 times in total.
Generation 29 (The first time you see this, copy it into your sig on any forum and add 1 to the generation. Social experiment.)
Come to the Communist side, we have Cookies Wheat
I take boring you to a whole new level!
Never mistake my IC nation for communism. think of it as Zepism, something unique and terrifying
Ode to Zepplin:

You Play as a Bisexual think tank, in a woemans body so gracefully... But as quickly as you came you are gone playing a Chineese Clone... Then you are a stupid, homocidal iddiot who will kill 1000 people for his own power... You are my hero.

User avatar
Elerian
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11356
Founded: Aug 31, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Elerian » Sat Mar 18, 2017 10:11 pm

Carbine Building


The Traansval wrote:-Snip-


It was an impressive display, Ahab had to admit. He’d read about the helicopters of pre-war times, but never had he seen one in person. And they were a sight to behold. It was a curious occasion, officals from New York being here in the Commonwealth. There were of course traders from New York that came in boats and by road, but never had any diplomats come to Chicago. Ahab supposed that there was a first for everything though.

“Greetings Sers, may I be the first to give you the warmest welcome to our humble city.”

Of course Ahab was being modest, the Windy City was one of the largest cities in the Wasteland. And today, atop the Carbine Building, that signature wind was setting the banners to swaying and any loose clothing to flapping. The Carbine was a veritable fortress in its own right, and with the roof of the building being the closest to the Royal apartments it was awash with defenses. Two anti-air emplacements and nearly three dozen Royal Guardsmen watched the New York detachment closely. Even if they were diplomats, certain precautions had to be taken. Though, the flak were angled far away from the Huey, and none of the soldiers brandished their weapons openly.

“The King is ready for you” Ahab said with a smile as he motioned for the two men to follow him to the elevator.

It was a short ride down several floors before the elevator stopped and opened its doors. Ahab gestured the men forward, and bid them good luck. Two Royal Guard had been waiting for their arrival and usher them forwards towards the end of the hall.

At a door not unlike the dozen or so others in the long hallway, the two soldiers stopped and opened the door for the two New Yorkers. Inside a sort of waiting room awaited them. A half dozen other men looked up at them from their seats. Some of them were dressed exquisitely, with gold inlaid in their clothes, and expensive jewelry adorning their neck and hands. Some of the other petitioners were dressed more plainly, obviously from lower stations than the other men.

A man whose attire marked him as a butler, or some similar job, approached the two New Yorkers and handed each of them a sabre to be attached to their belt. It was customary for petitioners of the King, no matter their station, to carry a sabre when in his presence. An archaic ritual to be sure, but one that would be followed nonetheless. After the weapons were strapped on, the butler brought them to the other side of the room and opened the door for them. A few of the more richly adorned men glared as they passed. Those who remained had obviously been there for some time, and now the New Yorkers were being given an audience with the King ahead of them, an affront.

Within the next room, King Cornelius Comstock sat waiting at a desk. Across from him sat two chairs that the New Yorkers would find uncomfortable to sit in. In fact they would find every aspect of the room to be discomforting. It was specially made for just that effect.

After the New York diplomats were seated, Cornelius leaned forward slightly and after a few seconds asked, “what is it that’s brought the two of you here, so far from home?”

Cornelius of course already knew the answer, but the question had to be asked nonetheless.



Carbine Building, Earlier that Day


NewLakotah wrote:Carbine, Chicago


“This is agreeable” Cornelius said simply. The King had long since decided upon his reply to White’s proposal.

“It’s no secret that the Nebraskans have been encroaching closer and closer upon Commonwealth territory. I imagine it would be inevitable that they would come into conflict with the Commonwealth. And, as you say, there is no stronger bond than family. Joining your lord’s house to mine own would be the only way I can see us having any sort of lasting Alliance. Not to mention my heir is without a wife to bear him his own heir.”

Cornelius leaned back in his chair for a few seconds in thought, then continued.

“However, I should think it would be best to seize the initiative. After the wedding of Solomon and the Princess Rebecca, a pre-emptive strike against the Nebraskans would send them reeling. If your Chieftain finds this acceptable, then I see no reason not to move forward with an alliance through marriage.”

Cornelius watched White carefully, and waited for a reply.

User avatar
The Traansval
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9215
Founded: Jun 26, 2016
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Sat Mar 18, 2017 11:46 pm

Elerian wrote:
Carbine Building


The Traansval wrote:-Snip-


It was an impressive display, Ahab had to admit. He’d read about the helicopters of pre-war times, but never had he seen one in person. And they were a sight to behold. It was a curious occasion, officals from New York being here in the Commonwealth. There were of course traders from New York that came in boats and by road, but never had any diplomats come to Chicago. Ahab supposed that there was a first for everything though.

“Greetings Sers, may I be the first to give you the warmest welcome to our humble city.”

Of course Ahab was being modest, the Windy City was one of the largest cities in the Wasteland. And today, atop the Carbine Building, that signature wind was setting the banners to swaying and any loose clothing to flapping. The Carbine was a veritable fortress in its own right, and with the roof of the building being the closest to the Royal apartments it was awash with defenses. Two anti-air emplacements and nearly three dozen Royal Guardsmen watched the New York detachment closely. Even if they were diplomats, certain precautions had to be taken. Though, the flak were angled far away from the Huey, and none of the soldiers brandished their weapons openly.

“The King is ready for you” Ahab said with a smile as he motioned for the two men to follow him to the elevator.

It was a short ride down several floors before the elevator stopped and opened its doors. Ahab gestured the men forward, and bid them good luck. Two Royal Guard had been waiting for their arrival and usher them forwards towards the end of the hall.

At a door not unlike the dozen or so others in the long hallway, the two soldiers stopped and opened the door for the two New Yorkers. Inside a sort of waiting room awaited them. A half dozen other men looked up at them from their seats. Some of them were dressed exquisitely, with gold inlaid in their clothes, and expensive jewelry adorning their neck and hands. Some of the other petitioners were dressed more plainly, obviously from lower stations than the other men.

A man whose attire marked him as a butler, or some similar job, approached the two New Yorkers and handed each of them a sabre to be attached to their belt. It was customary for petitioners of the King, no matter their station, to carry a sabre when in his presence. An archaic ritual to be sure, but one that would be followed nonetheless. After the weapons were strapped on, the butler brought them to the other side of the room and opened the door for them. A few of the more richly adorned men glared as they passed. Those who remained had obviously been there for some time, and now the New Yorkers were being given an audience with the King ahead of them, an affront.

Within the next room, King Cornelius Comstock sat waiting at a desk. Across from him sat two chairs that the New Yorkers would find uncomfortable to sit in. In fact they would find every aspect of the room to be discomforting. It was specially made for just that effect.

After the New York diplomats were seated, Cornelius leaned forward slightly and after a few seconds asked, “what is it that’s brought the two of you here, so far from home?”

Cornelius of course already knew the answer, but the question had to be asked nonetheless.

-Snip-


Agent Carter sat in the chair offered to him by the King's Servant, with his partner doing the same. A New York Metropolitan Ranger stood behind them, a Saber on his left hip, his Rifle and Revolver being left back in the Helicopter to put the Commonwealthmen at ease.

Carter shifted slightly in his chair, noticing how its design allowed for a subtle amount of discomfort. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to cause a certain amount of discomfort that the body never seemed to get used to, constantly poking into the back or bottom. Carter knew what was happening here, he was a Veteran of the Diplomatic Corps, he knew the tricks that the King was pulling. Like how his desk and chair was higher than their chairs, having him looking down on them. Carter of course didn't really care, and it wasn't like he was going to call out the king on this. Corde was having similar thoughts.

Agent Carter: It is truly a Honor to meet you, King Cornelius. I am Diplomatic Agent James Carter, this is my Partner Diplomatic Agent Catherine Corde. We are of the Department of Foreign Diplomacy, representing the government and nation of the Federal Republic of New York. This, of course, you already know, but Tradition must be followed. I think the reasons for this meeting with your Great Nation is to combat the threat of the New Romans to the north. The New Romans seem hell bent on expanding, and have taken valuable land. We would like to offer The Great Lakes Commonwealth a Alliance to face the threat of the New Romans. We have much to offer in the way of Trade and Technology, including Advanced Medicine and Weapons. Mainly, if the Commonwealth were to agree to a Alliance between it and New York, we promise any land from New Rome that the Commonwealth wishes to take, with the exception of St. Catherines and Welland. What do you say, your Highness.
Last edited by The Traansval on Sat Mar 18, 2017 11:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
New Minahasa
Diplomat
 
Posts: 797
Founded: Sep 05, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby New Minahasa » Sun Mar 19, 2017 1:08 am

Image

The Concord of Stars
March 1st, 2252
Fort Sill, Oklahoma

General Dixon was busy reading through the latest reports, like usual. Strangely, every time he looked through the reports, someone would always interrupt him. This time, Ambassador Curtis walked into his office. He could've sworn if he was a subject of the Concord, Dixon would've given him the biggest ran of his life. Fortunately, he didn't want to strain the relationship between Concord and Texas.

"Of course. The Concord would always help its allies. Plus, if what you said is true, we could always use some uraniums for our use. Just tell us where to start," spoke General Dixon. He tried his best to fake the most genuine smile he could achieve, but failed terribly, and just switched back to his previous expression. "We've also received your message, but still need confirmation on the attack. We've had reports that a large swath of cultists and Super Mutants are migrating to New Mexico. Got any idea what's happening?," asked Dixon.

March 12th, 2252
Hoover Dam, Nevada

A patrol team of five were patrolling the dam's perimeters. The one power-armoured sergeant led the team, along with him four recruits. They've been doing this for weeks. The team had wanted some action now, but haven't got the chance to be sent for a mission, although they were relatively happy for not dying like the rest of their unlucky colleagues.

"This place is a dump. The heat's now making things better, too. It's been a straight three hours since we've been out for a patrol," said one of the recruits.

"We still got a few hours left before our shift is done. I don't want to babysit your ass, so shut your mouth," spoke the sergeant.

As arguments arose, the team was surprised as they saw a man coming out, his hands up in the air. They could see a white flag, too, indicating he was harmless, although the few guards carrying pulse weapons that followed him proved otherwise. The sergeant and the rest of his men quickly raised their weapons,

"Halt. One more move, and this won't end up pretty for you," spoke the sergeant.

"I am here from the UPVT, we participated in the partition of the Mojave with you? I am here with authorization from my government and diplomatic immunity." The sergeant could only recall this so-called "partition" slightly, but he remained silent and allowed the man to speak.

"We have come to make you an offer... You are a small state, a weak state in the path of annexation from those around you. We wish to offer you a place within the UPVT, your dam would provide us with water, and power, in exchange we would protect you from attack from any great power. You will not have representation on our Overseer council, but you will be Vault Tec safe, and Vault Tec secure. Of course refusal of our kind offers is... Unwise to say the least, as I am sure you have heard of Modesto. They dared to bite the hand that feed them, and we dealt with them as one should deal with lesser peoples. Your people, they are much smarter are they not? So bring your leader here at once, so that I might recognize them, and have them confirm your undying loyalty to Vault Tec," spoke the man ever so boldly.

The sergeant and his men looked at each other, before a hearty laugh came from all of them. This so-called "UPVT" had the balls to come in Concord's territory, and expected the Concord to bend their knees before them? The sergeant thought. What was even funnier was that they thought the Concord was just a "small and weak state". This gave the impression that the UPVT had no idea of the Concord's true power.

"Oh, man. I hadn't gotten a good laugh ever since Jenkins fell into that one hole," spoke the sergeant. "You're a really funny guy, aren't you? We're not ones to bow down after your kind here. Now, I suggest you to be on your way before something bad happens. And tell your Overseers we say "hello"," said the sergeant, raising a middle finger for the ambassador, before raising his gun back up. The recruits still kept their aims steady, not wanting to give out their position to these vault dwellers.


Image


The Ecclesiarch
March 15th, 2252
Chicago, Illinois

In a probability for a Fourth Crusade, Pope Constantine had sought to gain as more friends as he could. The Great Lakes Commonwealth in the east was a Catholic nation, and the people were considered good and faithful by Constantine, even if they had yet to recognize him as their pope. The time would eventually come when they would, but for now, he didn't want to garner even more rivals, not to mention the thought of slaying his own Catholic brothers. A diplomat was sent to Chicago, the capital of the Commonwealth, to establish a non-aggression treaty and a trade agreement for both nations. Pope Constantine wished to achieve diplomatic relations with the Commonwealth through trade means. The diplomat and his retinue of five guards were given a bag of jewelry to present for the King of the Great Lakes, and horses on their mission to Chicago.

By March 15th, the diplomat and his retinue would arrive before the city of Chicago, and made their way inside the city. They holstered their weapons to show no hostility. They would ask around for the residence of the king, before they were directed over to a building called the 'Carbine'. It was a very tall skyscrapper, probably the tallest in the city of Chicago, a pre-war legacy. The diplomat approached the guards just outside of the building.

"Grace and peace to you from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ! We are from the Pontifical Ecclesiarch State of New Rome. We wish to have an audience with His Majesty King of the Great Lakes."
Last edited by New Minahasa on Sun Mar 19, 2017 1:14 am, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Prusslandia
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8961
Founded: Jan 14, 2014
Father Knows Best State

Postby Prusslandia » Sun Mar 19, 2017 3:07 pm

Archangel-One, Earth Orbit
Michael looked out at the void around the station, twinkling stars and flashing comets marring the onyx sea. The sun sat far off in the distance, a hovering orb of light. After a few moments of quiet solitude, he turned back towards the control panel, the orbital stations cargo visible through thick glass. Sitting down, he began to flip switches and toggle safeties, his free hand reaching to activate the comm.
"Command this is Archangel-One, are we clear to fire?"
"Archangel-One, you are clear to fire. Clearence code Alpha-Omega-Leviticus. Godspeed, son. "
"Roger that, Command."
Michael reached for the key kept around his neck, sinking it within the lock, as his counterpart did the same. Looking at him, he silently counted down, both of them suddenly switching their respective keys. He heard a thud as the missile was released, his eyes following its arcing trail. Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, he sighed.
"May God have mercy on the Sodom below, for we will not."

The Glowing Sea, Sentinel Site
As green clouds roiled and lightning cracked the sky, 10 Verti-Bird gunships flew, rotors thumping in near time. When they were within sightline of the concrete monolith, they opened fire. M230 rounds blasted holes into the dirt, synth scrap flying as lasers shot back and forth. As they got closer, four of the gunships veered off, side guns still firing. Jamers dropped from their bombing bays, devices made to ensure that the Institute couldn't send more reinforcemets.
As those four dropped jammers, the remainder began to drop off troops, laying down hevay covering fire. All in all, 60 power aarmoured troops were unloaded, carrying weapons ranging from Gatling Lasers to the new semi-auto Gauss rifles that had been developed. Additionally, four deathclaws had been dropped as well, which would serve well in the CQC enviroment of the facility.
With the jammers in place and the immediate perimeter guard destroyed, the troops moved forward, the Deathclaws quickly making the distance. However, the troops were ready for a massive battle within the facility, and every one of them was ready to die for their country.

Worcester, Massachussets, Pact Staging Ground.
Davisson was quietly marching when he heard the sonic slice of the weapon as it entered the lower atmosphere. His head swiftly turning, his mouth gaped as the flash suddenly appeared on the horizon, the broiling atomic fire easily on his ears. He covered his eyes from the brightness, a muttered prayer on his lips. After a few moments, he saw the faint outline of the mushroom cloud where Fort Independence once stood, and he grinned. Shaking his head, he continued to march, at a quicker pace now. After all, with the righteous fury of God on their side, how could they lose?

Eastern Seaboard, several hundred miles off of NYC.
Miles beneath the water, the USS Nautilus sheathed its way towards Boston. It's crew paced within, checking readings and ensuring that the subamrines nuclear cargo was secure and ready to fire. Within a few hours, they would be within firing range of Boston. They were being sent to ensure that, should the Institute appear close to victory, that none would survive. The city would be glass when they were done.
Add 7000 to 8000 posts to my post count.
(•_•)
( •_•)>⌐■-■
(⌐■_■)
I’m back owo

User avatar
The Traansval
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9215
Founded: Jun 26, 2016
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Sun Mar 19, 2017 6:13 pm

Robert Moses Niagara Hydroelectric Dam
North of Buffalo City
The State of Buffalo
A State of the Federal Republic of New York

March 7th, 2252


Private Firrst Class William Joel looked across the stretch of water that constituted the Niagara River, across the river to the land that belonged to the religious fanatics that were New Rome. Joel was good Catholic himself, most of the people in New York were Christian, but with a official endorsement from the President Lady Libertyism was growing. Joel didn't mind it so much, he thought it was just another religion like Judaism or the Church of Atom. But, these crazy fuckers across the river were threatening to invade New York because it allowed Freedom of Religion, and that it refused to not allow men and women to practice their chosen faith.

A Metro Ranger walked past them. He wore the Green Cross, which marked him as a Vet of the Pact War. Joel shivered, the Ranger Vets were the toughest men alive, the word in the Enlisted Circles was that Ranger Vets ate nails and spit Napalm....

Ranger Vet: Man your post PFC. If the New Romans attacked you'd be dead before you could scramble and get on your gun...

Joel saluted crisply and scrambled off the Nuka-Cola Crate he was sitting on and picked up the pistol grip of his NY-MG M60. After the Ranger Vet had departed, Joel's squad dissolved into laughter as their comrad's face turned a bright red. Joel sighed and decided to look out of the slit from from which MG's stuck out of. Joel was sitting in a small concrete pillbox build into the Dam. The Dam was of huge importance to New York. It provided power to most of the Republic, and held a large fresh water resivoir from which drinking water was collected.

The Niagara River was New York's biggest advantage over New Rome. If they wanted to attack, they would have to attack over it.

The river one the New York side was filled with mines, set to explode if they were touched. The New Yorkers obviously had a detailed map of them, so in the case of them needing to cross the river they could send in a team of Frogmen to clear a path. Otherwise, no ship was getting over the border by sea without getting blown up.

The shoreline was turned into a line of defense. A veritable wall of Concrete Bunkers, a couple forts, and trenches. The beaches were strewn with Barbed wire and hidden Mines.

The New York Third Army was redirected from its post at the Buffalo-Pact Border to be transferred North to the border with New Rome.

On the Great Lakes, the fleet of 6 Schooners were joined with a fleet of 12 Gunboats (Quickly refitted scrap boats found on the Great Lakes) and set on patrolling the lake to ensure that the New Romans wouldn't try any thing.

Coastal batteries were hastily built and equipped with Parott Rifles to bombard anything coming in off the shore.

Back at Niagara, the Third Army was setting up along the river. Supply Sergeant Hank Allen stood at one of the Parade Grounds created to organize the troops. The Army had recently adopted the New York Assault Rifle, M16, along with the New York Machine Gun, M60. As the soldiers came off the trucks or trains, they were taken out onto the grounds and assembled into Companies of each Battalion. Each Company 10 squads of 5 men. One would be the NCO in charge of the squad and would be assigned a gun of his choosing, two would be Riflemen and given either a NY-BR or a NY-AR, one would be a Submachine Gunner and use the NY-SMG M3, and the last one would be a Specialist and use either a NY-MG M60, a NY-GL (China Lake), a NY-SG (Shotgun), or a NY-AM M2.

SSGT Allen nodded as he checked the list on his clipboard as he took down the Weapons of each squad. There was to be no more than 3 NY-AM M2's per Company. A lot of the Riflemen still carried the Quaker Rifle, but some were now using the M16.

After inspection on the Parade Group, the men were issued extra ammo and sent off to their designated position.

Private Joseph Pyle and his Company, Able Company of the 45th Battalion, were sent to Grand Island.The 45th Battalion was assigned to the Grand Island Fort, which was a large concrete fortification build on Grand Island. The Fort offered support to other units on the shoreline and also would be a major force in firing on enemy boats crossing the river. Pyle and his squad walked to their section, where they observed two Parott rifles being cleaned by their Gunners. The fort has 16 Parott Rifles in total, ALL trained on the river.

In the North, the 4th Army was redirected to the New Roman Border. They built quick Trenches and laid down mines and barbed wire along the river, and at the Land Border at the very northern tip of New York they began to dig trenches across the strip of exposed land that marked the boundary between New York and New Rome.

Lance Corporal William Jones sighed as put dropped another sandbag into place, finishing a small machine gun next. The nest was built into a small tear drop shaped outcrop of the Trench, and a Specialist was already setting up a NY-MG M60 on a tripod. The Specialist was Private First Class Tim McDonald, he was the Specialist for Jones's squad. Their NCO, Warrant Officer Two Herbert Harry, watched the horizon with a scoped Quaker Rifle. The two Riflemen, Henry and Jake Goodwill, were twin brothers, however they were totally different in personality, as shown by the fact that one used a Quaker Rifle while the other a M16. Jones was the squad Submachine Gunner, and carried his M3 SMG with pride.

All along the line, men were digging in. Mines were strewn about, barbed wire spread everywhere, men worked day and night digging trenches, and all of it was to defend from the menace that was New Rome.

User avatar
Alinora
Minister
 
Posts: 2501
Founded: Jun 10, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Alinora » Mon Mar 20, 2017 12:39 pm

Image
- THE INSTITUTE -



Diamond City | The Commonwealth
R8-52 - "Sarah Black"


R8-52 raised an eyebrow at the request. Surely, they'd gathered information on the supposed "United Protectorate of Vault-Tec", but they'd never been confronted before. She found it odd that a nation would be founded around the idea of living in a social experiment designed by the United States Government, but it was hardly the Institute's position to judge. "Vault 81 is in a... tough position. When the Institute first liberated Diamond City, people everywhere fled, under the impression that we were truly the evil monster that had been ingraved in their minds since childhood." She paused. "They demanded entry into Vault 81, and the dwellers refused. The situation eventually deteriorated to a point where Vault Security opened up the vault door, only to greet the outsiders with a wall of gunfire." R8-52 shifted her weight in her chair.

"The outsiders have since founded a... sizable settlement in the area around the vault's entrance - lot of anamocity. The place has been coined 'city of rags' - a horrid cesspool of famine, poverty, violence, and destruction."

User avatar
Intermountain States
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1903
Founded: Oct 12, 2014
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Intermountain States » Mon Mar 20, 2017 3:39 pm

Fort Sill
March 1st, 2252


Curtis could already tell that Dixon isn't exactly happy to be interrupted. "We're intending to use uranium for free and plentiful energy for the Texas Commonwealth in both civilian and military use. We can divert a bit of uranium towards your own cities and forces as well," Curtis added. "I believe that we have enough to work with. We could also utilize fission technology as a quicker way to power up vehicles. It wouldn't be long before the communists try to expand east so we should power up our weapons against them."

"We've also received your message, but still need confirmation on the attack. We've had reports that a large swath of cultists and Super Mutants are migrating from New Mexico," Dixon said in regards to an earlier message involving Concord reinforcements to New Mexico. "Got any idea what's happening?"

"I delivered the message right when the Texas Army took control of Albuquerque and it was too late for me to be notified," Curtis begins. "In a stroke of luck, military reports stated that after Albquerque, the opposition force simply gave up. Soldiers reported less fighting than expected with Cultists and Super Mutants largely surrendering and the officers at the FOB in Las Cruces reported a representative from the Opposition Force surrendering the region in exchange for safe passage to Mexico."
Last edited by Intermountain States on Tue Mar 21, 2017 6:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I find my grammatical mistakes after I finish posting
"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed"
Lunatic Goofballs wrote:I'm a third party voter. Trust me when I say this: Not even a lifetime supply of tacos could convince me to vote for either Hillary or Trump. I suspect I'm not the only third party voter who feels that way. I cost Hillary nothing. I cost Trump nothing. If I didn't vote for third party, I would have written in 'Batman'.

If you try to blame me, I will laugh in your face. I'm glad she lost. I got half my wish. :)
Search boxes are your friends

User avatar
Fascist Republic Of Bermuda
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1975
Founded: Apr 28, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Fascist Republic Of Bermuda » Mon Mar 20, 2017 6:22 pm

Union of Soviet Socialist Settlements

The Glow, USSS
March 1st, 2252


"The forces of the Revolution will always be opposed to capitalism!" Itokawavichna yelled, like the good communist she was, "The only reason the USSR was interested in 'talking' with the Americans was because of the misguided belief that your people were open to compromise, and would not destroy the world before peaceful Revolution could be spread! I believe the fact that your decadent and selfish ways have driven the world into a smoldering ruin is reason enough to be hostile to the capitalist ways!" She calmed herself somewhat, the capitalists were getting on her nerves, "Now, who are you? You will submit to the People's will, and come in for questioning by the NKVD. You will not be harmed if you cooperate!"

A few miles to the north, in Novaya Moskva, the Everlasting Revolution reported the capitalist power armored incursion. Much chaos ensued, as everybody scrambled to figure out what happened, how such a force got so close to Novaya Moskva without any prior notice. Regardless of how it happened, they still had to deal with it. The Red Army prepared to mobilize most available forces in Novaya Moskva, the Red Militia of the Novaya Moskva Soviet and the nearby Marxgrad Soviet [OOC Note: Marxgrad = Tijuana] were ordered up in case this was a scout force for a much larger army. The 5 Hinds were ordered to launch, before a more rational mind belayed that order, and ordered one launched instead. Its 12.7mm gatling cannon was packed with as much as possible, it was loaded with some Shock Troopers, wished good luck, and launched. The Glow was vital, it was to be protected from these capitalists. No matter the price.

Novichok Chemical Weapons Research Wing, Gagarin Research Facility, USSS
March 3rd, 2252


"So what you are saying is," Doctor Mikhail Balakin said, "Is that this chemical weapon stays around longer than our chlorine stockpiles?" "Da, da," Doctor Yuri Steinerov waved his hand, "It has a peculiar scent and appearance about it. My staff have taken to calling it mustard gas." Balakin opened his mouth to say something. "In addition," Steinerov interjected, raising a finger to silence the other Soviet scientist, "Our tests indicate it condenses, and can remain on items even longer, rendering them unsuitable to touch for a period. Skin contact with the gas, or with condensed droplets, seems to lead to painful blistering... as some of staff found out, unfortunately. They're quite alright, I assure you. It's only extraordinarily painful with skin contact, apparently. None of them are going to Marx and Lenin just yet!" The two scientists laughed. "Now, Comrade Doctor," Steinerov said, "Shall we bring this 'mustard gas' to the table for increased production?" Balakin nodded slowly. "Da, da, Comrade Steinerov," Balakin patted Steinerov on the back, "I'll see to it your invention-" "Please, Comrade, it is not my invention. It is a rediscovery! It was used by the Fascisti Germans in the... 20th century, I believe!" "Da, da, what matters now, Yuri Ivanovich, is that we made progress! Now, if that is not worth a bottle of vodka in celebration, I do not know what is!"

Eastern Border of the USSS
March [after ulls abandoned america], 2252


"Comrade-Major, Comrade-Major!" The cavalryman yelled from atop his horse as it thundered into the main base camp of the 5th Rifle Battalion. Major Alexov, hunched over a map, peered over his circular glasses at the cavalryman. "Da, da, what is it, tovarisch?" Alexov said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "The enemy, they are gone!" "They're... gone. What do you mean?" Alexov asked, brow furrowing in confusion. Perhaps this lad was just incompetent, a new cavalryman, perhaps. "Da, Comrade-Major, it seems the enemy has simply... left! None of my fellow cavalry-comrades reported anything, I talked to some of the trench sentries on the way here, nothing in the enemy's defenses on that front, either!" "Now is the chance, Comrade-Major!" Captain Gorkova yelled in triumph, "We can advance again, without fear of casualties!" Alexov stroked his chin. "Da, it sounds reasonable..." The cavalryman agreed. "We must remain cautious," Alexov said, "We start with a 3-hour rolling barrage and then advance slowly." 5 hours later, after an artillery barrage pounded the abandoned Super Mutant defenses, the 5th Rifle Battalion headed out, starting the long march to Phoenix.

Former Vladivostok, Former Russian SFSR, Former USSR
March 5th, 2252


The Red October, one of the USSS's destroyers, slipped into Vladivostok behind the VTS False Profits, the Vault Tec ship's GPS showing the way for the Soviet ship, loaded down with colonists and supplies. This was it, the first steps of the USSS into the motherland in 175 years. Zoya Flyorova, proud mother of 5, stood on the deck of the Red October, taking in the salty air as Vladivostok loomed out from the gloom. "It is cold, mama!" 7-year-old Igor Flyorov, Zoya's youngest child, said up to her, pulling himself into his mother. "It is okay, Igorek," Zoya smiled gently as she ruffled up his hair, "We are home. After 175 years, we are back at the Rodina of the Rodina!" Igor scrunched his face. "So is the babushka-land? Babushka does not live here!" Zoya chuckled. "Da, it is the babushka-land. But Babushka does not live here, nyet, not right now anyways! This is the land of Lenin, Stalin, and the Kremlin!" Igor looked down from his mother to stare, in almost raptured awe, at the ruined buildings and cranes of the city as the docks drew nearer. "Are we going to build a house here?" Igor asked. Zoya nodded slowly. "Da, my little Revolutionary, we will build the first houses here! Once more, the bountiful lands of the Ukraine will be covered in fields of wheat, once again the red flag will fly high over great cities" Igor could imagine it from the pictures in the books he read, the USSS marching into Moscow as Lenin did so long ago, treading the very streets, the very fields Lenin and Stalin walked on. The two held each other closely as they stared out at their new home.
N U T S !

User avatar
Alinora
Minister
 
Posts: 2501
Founded: Jun 10, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Alinora » Mon Mar 20, 2017 7:55 pm

Image
- THE INSTITUTE -



Goodneighbor | The Commonwealth
T6-77 - "Sovereign"


When the Institute first assumed the role of governing the Commonwealth - occupying Diamond City and other key locations - Goodneighbor was granted general autonomy. Indeed, the Institute had enough to worry about when they first gained power, and a cesspool of crime and haven for criminals was one of the last things they wanted to have to deal with. Now, however, the Institute has been in power for months, and has been successful in it's elimination of Imperial Remnants, and in it's social-infastructure projects. Under orders of Director Hampton, T6-77 was to lead a force of synths to take control of Goodneighbor under the reasoning that it was harboring Imperials, and dispose of it's leader, Hancock.

The town's streets were filled with the poor and homeless - squatters who had mastered the art of pickpocketing and begging. Men in suits, known as the Neighborhood Watch, patrolled the streets with their submachine guns - exerting a system of criminal oppression on the people by order of Hancock. A whole army of scum gathered in the Third Rail. Thanks to the efforts of synth agents within Goodneighbor, such as Magnolia, the legendary Courser "Sovereign" had all the information he needed to be brutally successful in his decapitation of Goodneighbor's leadership.

The unsuspecting citizens of Goodneighbor could do very little as flashes of light, seeming to come from the heavens themselves, spawned a small army of synths across the town. Sovereign and his synths engaged the Neighborhood Watch, which was slaughtered with ruthless effeciency. Sovereign hardly gave second thought as his laser rifle tore a nice hole through the head of a guard, and showed no fear in cutting down many more. It was only a matter of minutes before the Neighborhood Watch began organizing itself and trying to put up real resistence - retreating back into the Old State House, only for synth agents among their ranks to open fire on them. T6-77 stepped over corpses in the street, which was locked down by Institute forces. He approached X6-88, who had assisted in the assault. "Lead a team into the Third Rail. Eliminate anyone who resists."

Soon after, the front doors to the Old State House were kicked down, and synths stormed inside. Watchmen had set up barricades on the steps, and while they managed to cut down a few synths, they were eventually slaughtered. T6-77 marched up the stairs, turning a corner, only for a Watchman to charge him. T6-77 grabbed him by the head and squeezed until his head popped like a grape, then used his corpse to break down the door to Hancock's room. He marched in with a synth on either side to see Hancock sitting casually on the sofa, looking up to the Courser as if he were a suprise visitor. Hancock set down his magazine and began clapping his hands, sarcastically. "Well Mr. Synth, I have to give you credit... in a matter of minutes, you've torn down everything we've worked so hard to achieve. The only place where all men are truly created equal... now a subject of the Institute..." He chuckled. "How ironic."

"Goodneighbor is now subject to the law of the Institute. You no longer have power here." T6-77's expression was blank and emotionless. Hancock only nodded, picking up a glass on the coffee table and drinking whatever was inside, before pursing his lips.

"I suppose it's time you kill me, then?" he asked.

T6-77 was silent for a moment. "You will die, but not yet." Two synths approached him, but he drew his weapon and fired a round through the skull of one. The other slammed it's foot into Hancock's shin - shattering the bone and forcing him to drop the weapon. The ghoul screamed.

"You son of a bitch I'll kill you!"

T6-77 raised his wrist to his face and spoke into the comm. "Package secure. Sending now." There was a flash of light, and Hancock and the synth were gone.

User avatar
Parcia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7452
Founded: Feb 11, 2016
Democratic Socialists

Postby Parcia » Mon Mar 20, 2017 10:01 pm

March 1st
Mayport Naval Station


The discovery of a centuries old naval ship half buried under mounds of crap in a dilapidated storehouse was not that the ship may or may not be in salvageable condition, it was whether or not the Republic held the ability to move the multi-hundred tone hunk of metal from its position to the singular birth some half mile away. Initial reports had indicated that its hull seemed intact, meaning it could float if on its own, but its engines were, well, shit. The Superstructure had laid exposed after the store house had caved in, meaning it had suffered a lot in the way of erosion and damage from 200 years of the elements.


Its armament had to be loaded as well. Survays of the gun mounts and ammo storage shows both had be stripped of the ship some time ago. A lead had been found though, in the form of a fragment of a pre-war order sheet detailing the storage of the guns in a bunker some miles away.
So apparently Cobalt has named me a Cyber terrorist, I honestly don't know to be Honored or offended.
Right leaning Centrist from Florida No I am not The Floridaman...hes my uncle. Other then that dont @ me about politics, im leaving that
hell hole behind until I leave Uni.
I reserve all rights to my posts, OCs, and contributions to any threads I post on.
I'm a Catholic too, figure that shit out!
http://www.threadbombing.com/data/media ... e_Lock.gif storage
Hooyah Navy.

User avatar
Alinora
Minister
 
Posts: 2501
Founded: Jun 10, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Alinora » Tue Mar 21, 2017 3:40 am

Image

- LAW OF THE COMMONWEALTH -
WRITTEN AND ENFORCED BY ALL PARTIES OF THE INSTITUTE, IN COORDINATION WITH REPRESENTATIVES OF THE COMMONWEALTH


LET IT BE KNOWN that the laws, rules and regulations given forth by the Institute be followed loyally by all citizens of the Commonwealth, and UNDERSTOOD that those who infringe upon these laws, and the rights granted to their fellow man, will be met by the FULL and ABSOLUTE extent of the Institute's criminal punishment. Let the PURPOSE of these enacted laws UNDERSTOOD, and the reasons for their creation. The laws and regulations given forth by the Institute are to PROTECT the people of the Commonwealth, and to ensure lasting PEACE, ORDER, and LIBERTY.

These laws are to be clearly displayed in a CONSPICUOUS location in each and every town and city of the Commonwealth, and it is the RESPONSIBILITY of local governance to INFORM the people of this. Those who FAIL to do so could face CIVIL OR CRIMINAL PUNISHMENT.

- ARTICLE I -
Tax Codes


ALL CITIZENS living under the authority of the Institute have the CIVIL DUTY AND RESPONSIBILITY to pay their share. Citizens, businesses, and settlements, will all be applicable to these laws, and those who VIOLATE these laws will be met with PUNISHMENT.

  • Taxes will be due at the end of each month, turned in at the nearest Tax Collection Station, or from Tax Collectors.
  • Every individual will be required to turn in 10% of their monthly income.
  • Businesses are to turn in 25% of their monthly income.
  • Employees of a business also have to pay their Individual tax.
  • The independent or appointed governments of every city and town have the exclusive right to 75% of tax revenue. It is expected that this money will be put back into the community, through paying government employees, or in general, helping improve conditions.
  • Those who have the ability to pay, yet do not, will be charged with Tax Evasion and other appropriate charges.
  • Those who do not have jobs and cannot pay can visit their nearest civil representative, who can either appoint a job to said individual, or find someone who can.
  • Those who cannot find a job, or make less than 300 caps/month, are temporarily exempt from taxes.

- ARTICLE II -
Jobs


It is EXPECTED for every citizen to not only PAY their FAIR share, but WORK to improve their community as a whole. There are a wide array of jobs available in the Commonwealth, whether local, or to a larger expanse.

  • There are a wide variety of simple, unskilled labor jobs, including farming, maintenance, and the collection of taxes.
  • Skilled labor jobs include, but are not limited to, the medical field, the sciences, law enforcement, plumbing and skilled maintenance.
  • For those who cannot find jobs, they can report to their nearest Civil Representative, who will find opening in certain fields.
  • If one cannot find a job locally, other organizations can help find jobs abroad.
  • Those who have a disability that prevents them from working have the ability to receive financial support.
  • Children as young as age 10 can work, but 50% of their wages must be immediately collected for taxes, and they cannot work any positions that threaten their lives.
  • Those who purposefully refuse to become employed, or through some means, fake a disability, will be subject to full punishment up to execution.

- ARTICLE III -
Criminal Law


Those who INTENTIONALLY inflict harm or wrongdoing upon others will be subject to the FULL MEASURE of the justice system. Punishments may be adapted, removed, or added, to an extent, by individual settlements, but THESE LAWS are ABSOLUTE.

CRIMINAL LAWS:
  • Do not steal from a fellow citizen, a business, a local government, or the Institute. This includes intellectual property.
  • Do not buy or receive stolen items with the knowledge that said item/items is/are stolen.
  • Do not attack, maim, kill, or perform a similar action on another person.
  • Do not vandalize anything that does not belong to you.
  • Do not force anyone to perform sexual acts on you, and do not perform sexual acts on another person without their consent; do not perform sexual acts on anyone under the age of 15, unless both parties were born within 3 years of each other.
  • Do not perform already-mentioned tax violations.
  • Work.
  • Do not involve yourself in illegal/immoral business practices.
  • Do not purposefully act to undermine the efforts or authority of your local governments, or the Institute. Such actions will regarded as treason.
  • Do not assemble in large gatherings without permission from local governments.
  • Do not damage, or steal, Institute property. This includes synths, and all things constructed/provided by the Institute.
  • Most of the laws provided by the Institute will be enforced by local authorities or the local garrison - only crimes directly against the Institute and it's assets will be dealt with directly by the Institute.

CRIMINAL PUNISHMENT
  • Whose found guilty of murder, treason, and high-tier theft will be sentenced to execution.
  • Low-tier theft, tax evasion, assault, and other similar crimes can result in imprisonment.
  • These laws may vary among cities and towns, who's governments may prefer alternative forms of punishment.
  • He/she who commits a crime is therefore forfeiting their rights.
  • Three Strikes Rule will be applicable - those who commit three counts of a Prison-level crime can expect execution, or life imprisonment.

- ARTICLE IV -
Rights and Duties of a Citizen

  • Every citizen has the RIGHT to the Freedom of Speech and Religion, so long that neither are in a violent manner.
  • Every citizen has the RIGHT to own and operate a weapon for self-defense purposes, so long as said individual has no criminal background, and has the appropriate permits.
  • Every citizen has the RIGHT to a quick, but fair, trial when accused of a crime.
  • Every citizen has the RIGHT to safe living and working conditions.
  • Any citizen who is found guilty of a crime therefore forfeits all rights, though their Duties still remain.
  • Every citizen has the RIGHT to defend themselves from foreign and domestic threats.
  • Every citizen has the DUTY to pay taxes.
  • Every citizen has the DUTY to obey every law given by the Institute, and by their local governments.
  • Every citizen has the RIGHT to utilize any substance/drug they wish, so long as it does not negatively impact others. When drug use begins affecting those around a citizen, said citizen has the DUTY to end use of the substance.
Last edited by Alinora on Tue Mar 21, 2017 3:43 am, edited 2 times in total.

User avatar
Parcia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7452
Founded: Feb 11, 2016
Democratic Socialists

Postby Parcia » Tue Mar 21, 2017 9:08 am

The McFlyn Brothers were from a well-known Family in Castio, hailing from a long line of Irishmen and women going back to before the war, the whole family had managed to retain the telltale accent and all, a feat worthy of some respect. They were much better known, however, because they owned the only working sugar plantation in the Republic, meaning they already had a direct voice in the Republic’s economy by way of holding a near monopoly on its Sugar Production.

The Brothers, Shamus and Sean, recently made known that they were brewing a special batch of Rum, an alcohol based from distilled Sugarcane juices, and aged in charred barrels. For years, the brother had produced “Red Rum”, or rather bland dark rum, for some years now. They were commissioning a ship, a Schooner under the ownership of Tera Frye, a rather well known explorer and sea scout, to take some 45 barrels of rum of Varying varieties up the East Coast. Her ship will be armed with 6 guns taken from the armory of the Castio itself and a squad of Republican Regulars, 4 in number and who have sailing experience, to accompany the ships 8-man crew.

The DawnTreader was a gaft rigged, two masted Schooner build of hardy wood found in the swamps of Castio. She was freshly build as well, being the newest and second ship Miss Frye has sailed. Getting the Republic to spare the cannon, shot, and men was a task in of itself, as her old cannons had gone down with her first ship during a hurricane, a storm that nearly killed Tera her self.

Tera Frye
St. Agustine pier
Night of March 1st


She sighed as she went over the contract again. Signing with the McFlyn Brothers was something she was against; it was that they were so controlling of their brew. “Don’t store it in the sun, make sure to keep it away from Rats, etc. etc.” Still, the cash she would get upfront plus the 15% she got for each sale on top of the commission as a diplomat for the republic was a considerable, so much so that she put her signature down on it almost without second thought. Plus, the crew were welcome to a barrel or two of the Red Rum on their journey, a gift from Sean McFlyn.

She reached across the small desk as the ship pitched ever so slightly, making the small set of candles cast shadows in every which direction in the room. It would take some 3 weeks before the ship could launch from the pier. 3 weeks to gather enough food from the local farmers, 3 weeks to gather the rifles and swords needed to arm the crew, minus the 4 regulars and the cannons already installed, courtesy of the Castio, and 3 weeks for her crew to finish sea trials on her new schooner.

3 weeks.
Last edited by Parcia on Tue Mar 21, 2017 9:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
So apparently Cobalt has named me a Cyber terrorist, I honestly don't know to be Honored or offended.
Right leaning Centrist from Florida No I am not The Floridaman...hes my uncle. Other then that dont @ me about politics, im leaving that
hell hole behind until I leave Uni.
I reserve all rights to my posts, OCs, and contributions to any threads I post on.
I'm a Catholic too, figure that shit out!
http://www.threadbombing.com/data/media ... e_Lock.gif storage
Hooyah Navy.

User avatar
Waztaskio
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7077
Founded: Jun 09, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Waztaskio » Tue Mar 21, 2017 10:09 am

Image



Ridgecrest, California - March 1st, 2252

"Fine...let me just confer with some of my men." Paladin Charid began to walk away from the Commissar, gathering the remaining paladins, knights, and scribes, totaling seventeen. "Alright, here is what we're going to do. The Glow is highly radioactive as we all know, but we can use this to our advantage. Our Power Armor, with the exception of the Scribes will protect us from any radiation we come across. Due to most of these guys just in their own gear, they may not follow or they'll die of radiation poisoning. I want the Scribes to head out first into the Glow once we blow a path, followed by the Initiates, then Knights, and finally Paladins. We'll link up with the rest of the team inside, and we'll escape another way." Scribe Thirteen was nervous, as she heard the plan. Her three scribes were the only ones not in Power Armor, and would be highly exposed to lethal doses of radiation.

"I'll need to grab our supply of Rad-X then. I believe we brought twenty-five syringes. Hopefully that'll be enough." Scribe Thirteen said. "Then it's settled. This isn't the best plan, but it's our only plan. Lose them in the Glow, and go from there. Anyone follows, we'll handle it. Get ready, I'm going to talk with the commissar. When I start what I'm going to do, you all better start running." Paladin Charid dismissed the group as they proceeded into position with Thirteen heading into the tent to radio the team inside and grab the Rad-X bag to slip over her shoulders, and would begin administering the doses to the scribes. Paladin Charid would head over to the Commissar, as he sighed. "Commissar, after speaking to my men. We have decided to....reject the over." Right after his sentence, Charid punched the Commissar in the face, killing her instantly, while beginning to open fire on the troops with his mini-gun. "Go, go!" Right on cue, the Scribes began to bolt for the Glow, beginning to receive massive doses of radiation. They would've already been dead, had it not been for using massive doses of Rad-X, and only needed to focus on avoiding fire from the communist. As the Paladins and Knights along with the Initiates covered the retreat, they begin to head out in squads until finally, Paladin Charid could withdraw into the Glow.

User avatar
Zepplien
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6750
Founded: Oct 10, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Zepplien » Tue Mar 21, 2017 10:44 am

13th of March, 6th Sphere Expansion Force, Sacramento Outskirts
Soldiers marched forward, their lines prepared alongside the repaired duel railway lines that crossed the UPVT. An armoured train sat in the middle, reversed into position so its anti infantry turrets were out in front, but its artillery guns could still be brought to fire if the enemy brought out raiders on the attack. Behind the lines though, protected each by a unit of 10 Protectrons lead by an Assultron, sat two railway guns. Their cannons roared as they hurled explosive shells into far away city of Roseville. The guns could in theory fire one shell every four minutes, but due to the expense of the shells, and the recoil system that required the gun to be reset after every shot, they spent 10 minutes for each shot. It was like clockwork, the old UPVT Army joke that you could time your cooking from the artillery guns holding very true for the Neo Sacramento citizens who lived near the guns. It was not the UPVT's quarrel with Roseville, but that of Folsom Dam who had offered to join the UPVT willingly if their enemies were wiped out. They had made an appeal to Roseville to mediate peace, but their Ambassador had been beaten by the warlord for his mere attempt. It mattered not now, what mattered now was the shells that rained upon the people of Roseville with horrifying accuracy, and destructive potential beyond anything the citizens of the wasteland had seen in 175 years.

Hoover Dam
The Neo Fransisco guards raised their weapons in time with the weapons that were raised against them, two pulse weapons taking aim at the power armored Sargent, while each of the other two pulled out a pistol, 12.7 in one case, and a Desert Eagle in the other case. One of the Radio Operators called into her radio "We have made contact, they have raised weapons please advise over." "Do not fear... We have your back..." The radio said cryptically, but the meaning was known to the Neo Franciscans. They were being watched over, likely by at least one sniper who would put down one of the soldiers in combat armour if they fired. "You dare to insult the UPVT?" the Ambassador spat, walking forward as he straightened his Vault Jumpsuit. He stopped only a meter in front of the soldiers "You forget the natural way of things, you are an insult to nature, and scum to be purged from its surface." with that he turned to leave "We may let you live if you send your people to cow down and beg for you lives." his face held a grimace as he walked back to his guards. The Ambassador knew what needed to be done with these people, but the rail lines must be built first, then they could rain shells to the point where wastelanders would have never thought possible. Their day of reckoning would come, in time... Such was the way of the UPVT.

Diamond City
Ambassador Wilkins could barely keep himself from sneering, the idea of uplanders trying to force their way into a Vault was utterly wrong on so many levels, truly they got what was coming to them. He shook it off, he knew he needed to tell these machines and scientists what they wanted to hear "Perhaps we could be of some help, the last thing we want is to have a bunch of angry uplanders right outside one of our siblings Vaults. With synth protection, we would be happy to assist you in setting up some kind of humanitarian aid to these people so that they can be educated and put to work like productive citizens. We do this not out of the goodness of our hearts, but to prove our good intentions here in the Commonwealth." and to prove helpful to 81 he added silently in his head. "But let us not speak in empty promises, let us get ourselves a contract signed to insure that the good will between our two peoples can begin, so that together we may build a safer world, a better world, and a secure world." he did not let his pride get in the way, nor did he let hubris cloud his eyes, but instead focused on

11th of March, Vault 36
The elegant motions of Vault 36 citizens were all around, each of the raiders on the razor's edge of human ability of motion, and even the normal citizens were lithe as they moved in their day to day tasks. Beastmasters pet their animals, tinkering (mad) engineers worked on projects, students and teachers went at each other with wooden swords, all in all, it was a normal day in Vault 36. Above all of this stood the First Sword of Vault 36, right hand of the Overseer, twirling his sword gracefully in one hand as he walked, like the rest of the 36ers he did not twitch and suffer from withdraws from the combat drugs, thanks to the auto docs he stood above the others with a perfectly clear mind. It was from up here he watched Raider Senior, one of their newest initiates, from the Sole Slice Arena, but there was something wrong with him. It wasn't something physical, but it was something he had spoken at length with about with the Overseer. It was a gut feeling, the feeling they got while watching him was always that he was holding back, hiding his true skills. They didn't have any evidence of course, but they had known fighters in the areas for... Longer than either of them would dare admit. But after speaking to one particular Overboss they knew

Overboss Gerhardt walked forward, spinning a sword made of off blue metal in lazy circles as she walked forward, glancing up at the First Sword who gave her a nod, and then her eyes returning to the new raider. "You, Senor!" she pointed her sword at him, a cocky grin on her face "Overseer Gerhart wants me to take ya raiding, prove your shit in real combat." the mid 20s woman was not overly intimidating in appearance. She was thin and pale like most 36ers, her Vault jumpsuit covered in gadgets produced for her by the finest craftsmen in the entire Vault. Smoke launchers, tear gas launchers, taser systems, jump pack, extra blades, dart guns, the list went on and on with all the equipment she had. As with most 36ers, she wore no armour, instead focused entirely on not being in the same place that the enemy aimed by the time they fired. Her bodyguard however wore full U.S.A. Power Armour, and cradled his plasma rifle gingery, glaring at the man who he would have gunned down if he had known his origins. "We are going to Jackson to secure the casino there, they declared themselves opposed to the UPVT, so we can do as we wish." she sheathed her sword with a motion and gave him a nod "Get your stuff, there will be a train waiting for us outside the Vault to take us to the boarder. Don't disappoint me, or I will put your head on the Overseer's desk, wastelander."

She did not have equipment to fetch, instead she had her goodbyes to say before she met with the rest of her raiding party. Her room was close to the surface, no issue to find. Inside was her husband, the small young American who smiled up at his taller wife as she came in. There was also Erwin who stood guard standing next to their bedroom, much like how Joshua kept her safe out in the wasteland. She gave her husband a kiss, smiling at him as she muttered "Richard, where is Mary?" the man smiled up at her "She is in her room, you are going out again aren't you?" there was a twinge of sadness to his voice, always so worried about his wife not coming back this time. But she went to their daughter's room, smiling at the little girl who looked up and excitedly cried out "Mommy!" she was so young, so innocent, scooped up in her mother's arms and just given a smile. "Will you read me a story tonight mommy?" the girl asked, her mother's smile twitching with guilt "I can't tonight, I'm sorry dagger." her nickname for her daughter, the girl quick and small. The look of disappointment on the girl's face only made Gerhardt feel more and more guilty. "Don't worry, I will be back tomorrow, and I promise I will read you whatever story you want. Plus we can have cake." the girl smiled suddenly, and Mr. Gerhardt gave a warning glance of amusement.

March 12th, Dos Palos Joint Testing Ground
It was with a grin that the Vault Tec military leaders stood alongside the Soviet ones, the latest and greatest weapons of war on display. "We have worked feverishly, both of our scientists together to insure that nothing has gone wrong with the deconstruction of our gifts from the Soviet Union, and the historic links to China that have been made through our tank programs. We realized upon the signing of the SCTO, and with aggressive moves from Texas toward Southern California that new weapons were needed. While they could have each worked separately on their projects, things were far too dire with the Texan advances to wait on such things. The first tank the Mark One Anti Fortification Assault Gun, the machine was slow as expected, but when faced with its target the 38cm main gun did exactly what was expected of it. The rocket tore from the machine and slammed into the house. Well, slammed wasn't quite the right word, it flattened the house with a single shot, but also as predicted the reload speed was horrific, the crewmembers racing to get it done in only three and a half minutes. The Soviets seemed weary of this weapon, they knew exactly why it had been made, but with the unified threat of Texas, and trouble brewing on their boarders, they knew the weapons would not be used against them.

The next tank shown off by the Vault Tec Security Force was the Type 1 Flame Tank, the twin mounted prow flamers complimenting the swiveling duel mounted incinerator, most of the bulk of the tank being taken up by armoured fuel tanks for the flamer fuel, and advanced radio equipment that allowed it to serve as a relay point for the soldiers who would follow it. Like the Assault Gun it had incredibly think frontal and side armour, but was severely lacking in rear armour due to the nature that it was expected to be at the front of an attack, and guarded by other troops. Last of the Vault Tec Tanks was the Mark Two Chimera, a duel mounted Gatling laser mounted on the top guided by a Big Mountain Radar system adapted to provide accurate targeting. This was 'fast' compared to the other tanks, and had both anti ground and anti air systems to deal with any opposing threat. Its armour did not compare to the other two Vault Tec tanks, and would likely have a much harder time against the rocket launchers that dotted the wasteland nations. At range perhaps it would survive, but a single bad hit and it was done for.

The Soviet tanks on the other hand were repaired designs from the pre war days, not custom creations like those of Vault Tec, the smaller of the two nicknamed the Sickle by the Soviets moved onto the testing field first. It was quick, able to move along with its six legs with impressive speed, and bring its trio of heavy machine guns to bear on any target that the instructors picked. It would serve as the anti infantry tank of the Red Army, though it was extremely vulnerable to heavy weapons, its armour only able to withstand rifle rounds. The other tank, crawling froward on four legs instead of six was a power house. Two grenade launchers, a main cannon, an autocannon, and a small anti air machine gun mounted on top. The tank was effective enough, but it could not fire all of its weapons at once as was discovered in early testing, as it would cause the machine to buckle under the vibration, and could cause the legs of the machine to collapse. Though the Soviets, being brilliant in certain ways, realized they could make the machines kneel, in a hull down position, and serve as a defensive work without risk.

It wasn't the tanks themselves that were impressive, but the level of cooperation between the two powers of California, it was a united effort of science, industry, and sheer ingenuity between the two powers. This was evident as scientists and officers alike congratulated each other, peace between the two powers everlasting in the eyes of the men and women who shook each other's hands there and then. It was this that had been brewing for well over a century, not the distrust and loathing of the pre war age between capitalists and communists, but a true love as if between sibling nations. Unlike any other pact of nations in the wasteland, these nations had cause to have absolute trust, absolute loyalty, and together would face the united foes against them. They would never fall alone, but instead stand together until both nations stood tall above the rest, or until both nations simply no longer existed.
Generation 29 (The first time you see this, copy it into your sig on any forum and add 1 to the generation. Social experiment.)
Come to the Communist side, we have Cookies Wheat
I take boring you to a whole new level!
Never mistake my IC nation for communism. think of it as Zepism, something unique and terrifying
Ode to Zepplin:

You Play as a Bisexual think tank, in a woemans body so gracefully... But as quickly as you came you are gone playing a Chineese Clone... Then you are a stupid, homocidal iddiot who will kill 1000 people for his own power... You are my hero.

PreviousNext

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to Portal to the Multiverse

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Google [Bot], Hopal, Lazarian

Advertisement

Remove ads