Fallout: South the Mason [IC Thread]

[Arengin Union]

Iwashi Family Plantation

John

"You motherfucker should've learned your lesson!" a man in combat armor said as he once again punched John in the face, then the stomach. Another guard kept tight grip of the man's arms so he could not resist.

One punch, then another. Both men laughed as John tried to keep himself awake with all the hits. Finally the two men were done, not before one of them kicked John right in the chest while the other let go of him, letting the man fall over the mud. Both guards laughed.

"Open the gate Cletus. This shit stain's had enough." One of the Iwashi mercs said while cleaning his fist from John's blood. The merc guarding the Box nodded and opened the door leading inside, the hot steamy air was let released as the two guards dragged John through the mud and tossed him inside.

"Root in here ti'll you learn not to fuck with us." A merc said before closing the gate, enclosing the room in complete darkness.

"FUCK YOU!" John said in anger as he began to get on his feet. Laughs could be heard from the other side of the metal door.

John was alone now, the heat was unbearable more so than the outside, it was like being trapped in a burning building. He stood up and looked around the place, nothing, his eyes slowly became adjusted to the dark as he touched on the walls to guide himself. There was nothing at all, just 4 walls and a roof made of metal. The floor was just soil with some loose metal plates around it, almost as if what used to be the Box's floor rusted away with exposure of the soil. So this is the Box? John had never been inside, he had barely been 2 weeks in this plantation and had only seen people being put inside and taken out, either dead, dying or worse.

John got his back against the wall and slide down to the floor, he had no way out. Nothing to do, just wait till he was either dead or dying like Edwina was. His entire body was rapidly sweating, he felt weak and with no direction. He rambled on his mind, nothing else to do really, he thought about that poor girl Edwina... she was sweet, she had been one of the few smiling faces John had seen in this god forsaken place, and now she was dead. John had tried to be the big man and simply got himself trapped in a room to die like Edwina had, big fucking hero. John kept quiet and thinking to himself well into the night, lying on the ground and feeling sorry for himself and his petty destiny that awaited him.

Would he just die here now? He had traveled from so far only to end in a burning room and die under the hot Maryland sun. Had his life really been meant for this after all? It seemed like it was. John's own lamenting of himself was cut short by a sound something coming from the earth. John stood up, using his dwindling energy to get prepared for anything, maybe a molerat or a radroach, they would be good food for the night.

But his assumption was proven false by a shovel going right through the ground at the middle of the room. This was followed by a shinning light of an oil lamp, it blinded John for a few second. The person holding this light emerged from the hole and revealed himself as a dirty old man wearing equally dirty clothes and carrying a short shovel and a hammer on his belt, along a knife. He wore a big hat and had a long beard covered in dirt. John simply looked in confusion at the strange old fella.

"Why yelloh there mister! Is this Kentaky???" The man asked, his southern accent was very noticeable and his smell was disgusting.

"N-no... This is Maryland... Iwashi plantation..." John answered, with the same confusion in his face now uttered in his words.

"Awwww dangit!!! Still in this goddarned plantashion!" The old man began kicky and waggling his feet and hands in anger. John kept his distance.

The old man pulled out a small notepad and wrote off several things with a very warned off pencil. John approached the hole on the ground and looked down bellow, he could see that it was deep and probably extended far.

"Welp! Now you gotta do all shit yet again! Howsh this gonna work if you jeep racking about this and that." The old man kept on his rambling as he picked the oil lamp and tossed it inside the tunnel. Before he got in John spoke.

"W-wait! I need to get off this plantation too!" John's words carried much desperation. He would do anything to get out of this place.

The old man simply looked at him, eyeing him from head to toe. He then caressed his dirty beard and began thinking to himself.

"Canshu dig?" He asked.

"Yeah yeah! I can do all kinds of digging! Just let me go with you!" John pleaded.

"Lee work for me! Nyeheheheheh! Let's go sony! The old man jumped into the tunnel, signaling John to follow.

John let out a long breath. "Better die with this crazy coot covered by rocks and dirt than have my carcass fed to the dogs..." John then jumped inside the tunnel.

Foreman Ed

Foreman Ed galloped up to the big house, it was late in the afternoon and the man was tired from a long day of hauling slaves as well as the couple of incidents that had occurred earlier that day. The man dismounted from his horse, the mercs guarding the front of the houses tied the horse to a pole nearby and nodded him to go inside. The sun was beginning to settle.

Ed made his way inside the house, taking off his hat as he made way through the VERY fancy household. He had only been inside a couple of times and each awed him more than the last. Ed waited a few seconds, before a merc arrived and simply waved him to go through to the fireplace room. The nervous foreman walked inside, passing the stairs to the second floor and the kitchen as well as the dinner table. Despite the nuclear hellfire of years ago it the house was in stellar condition.

Ed arrived to the fireplace room where he was stopped by two mercs, these ones wearing heavy power armor and using heavy weaponry. Ed was not supposed to get too close to the Iwashi, no one really was, they were extravagant like that.

"Sir... production was up 10 perceint today..." The foreman said, as the deliverer of the first good news. Mr. Iwashi simply waved him to continue as he kept on his seat near the fireplace and his wife.

"But-t... today we lost 5 slaves... one of them to tiredness, and 4 tried to get out of the perimsher... We had to shoot them before they got out too far..." Ed had clear fear in his voice as he delivered the news.

[Greater Redosia]

Richmond

Garner walked up to the Colonel, slowly pulling out a .357 revolver from his holster and holding it up to the man's chest. He sighed and opened the cylinder revealing no bullets inside it. "I wasn't plannin' on killin' anyone today, and what your terms show is quite fair. Though I am...unhappy with the already large amounts of lives lost especially on our side, as well as the lost of our bridge checkpoint. You my friend, are nothing but a follower of a nation who's ideals conflicts with ours. We have a noble cause, one of freedom, justice, and independence. For the last man who told me that they wanted to secure their borders then raided so many towns you wouldn't believe, times before us were tough and with these new times approaching we just gotta be tough back. Tell your commanders and your politicians that we accept your treaty that carries the blood of innocents, also tell them we never wish to see them on this soil of ours again." Garner then turned away from the Colonel, followed by the other council members.

"Garner...are you sure we can trust these men?" Garner looked at Jessie and sighed, "Not at all Jessie.....not at all, times are tough for independence and with new powers growing or so those caravans told me, people like us are gonna be less needed." Jessie frowned and placed a hand on Garner's shoulder, "If worse things come we flee to West Point and start anew there, just like the Council before us agreed." Garner swatted their hand away "I know what the Council chose to do, but lets hope that day never comes."

Hampton

"FUCK FUCK FUCK! GET DOWN! GET DOWN!" Another explosion knocked the Regulator off his feet and onto his back, he looked up at the sky staring at it like in a trance. The road under him feeling harder than ever, he lifted himself up seeing several bodies and small holes in the road as well. He was picked up from behind and shoved forward, he didn't know what else to do but keep moving forward. Was there anything other than forward?

"Snap out of it! I need you here now damn it!" The Regulator shook his head and focused on the sounds around him, screams and sounds of gunfire everywhere. He dived down behind some rubble and stayed there not knowing what else to do, he thought of his mother back at Williamsburg. He was happy when he got stationed where he would be able to see home, his mom, his dog. Why did there have to be fighting, why did there have to be blood. Mom always told him that he never liked fighting but being a regulator was his dream, seeing them in their dusters and shiny hunting rifles. But now here he was, not living a dream but living a nightmare, he started crying hugging the hunting rifle tightly. "Please...m-mom....please come get me....I don't like walking home from school....the kids bully me...a-and....please...save me....please...."

He kept crying there in the rubble, shaking uncontrollably he never felt so afraid, he didn't even know where he was. There was too much sound to think, too much for him to handle any of this anymore. Another Ranger came across the rubble, the regulator saw him crying and quickly dropped his weapon and hugged him. "Shh, hey boy..it's alright...just calm down.." How could he? He never wanted this, he wanted to be a hero, save a cute girl, be a good guy. "I....I want to go home....I want to see my mom..." The other regulator sighed, and patted his back. "I know boy....I know...I do too...now...just..try and calm down....now tell me...what's your name....mine's Nathan"

"M-My name...my name is Jimmy.....I want to go home...please.." Nathan sighed and hugged tighter, "I know...but we just gotta stay out here a little bit longer alright Jimmy? you can do that right...then we can go home and see mother..." Jimmy continued to cry, but he was no longer shaking.."Alright...thank you....dad..can we go see if they have soup at the barracks today? I heard they made the soup just like grandma made it..." Nathan sighed and looked ahead, seeing another blast kill a few more regulators, "Yeah...we can do that son....I promise i'll take you home and we can eat together...we can even bring your mother along..." Jimmy smiled, "Thank you...."

[The Traansval]

Hampton

Corporal Tyler wished he'd never signed up. When he walked into that recruitment office, two years before he would have been eligidble for conscription, he thought he'd join the long line of men who'd gone off into the Service. Men who'd been showered with praise and women, a glorious affair.

"To be honest, most soldiers just stay in their beds at base listening to the radio and play football."

Well the recruiter was right about one thing, Tyler was laying on his back. Just not on a bad in base, but on a cold concrete roof. A regulator had just thrown a grenade up there, and the explosion was still ringing in his ear. He propped himself back on his elbow to look around. A couple privates were over in a corner with the Medic along with the Lieutenant, who seemed to have gotten a shrapnel piece lodged in his shoulder. The rest... They were dead. They just lay there, not moving. The entire fucking platoon save a handful were dead.

A crackle of static went off, and all seemed to go silent in the city. A mans voice came over the speakers, gruff and commanding.

"CITIZENS OF HAMPTON, FOOTSOLDIERS OF THE REGULATORS AND MEN OF NORFOLK. APPROXIMATELY THREE HOURS AGO, REPRESENTATIVES OF THE STATE OF NORFOLK AND THE REGULATORS SETTLED ON A PEACE TREATY. HAMPTON WILL BE CEEDED TO THE STATE OF NORFOLK, AND IN RETURN ALL REGULATORS AND CITIZENS OF HAMPTON WILL BE ALLOWED SAFE PASSAGE OUT OF THE CITY. REGULATORS, CITIZENS, LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS AND LEAVE. ANY RESISTANCE WILL BE MET WITH VIOLENCE AS A BREACH OF THE TREATY! ALL MEN OF NORFOLK ARE TO PULL BACK AND ALLOW THE 4TH INFANTRY TO GARRISON THE TOWN! THIS IS GENERAL JAMES GARFIELD, NORFOLK STATE ARMY!"

Tyler couldn't believe it. All this fighting, and now they had one because of a treaty? Three hours ago!

He looked down across the city. Norfolk soldiers slowly got up, looked around. The Regulators did much the same, while the Citizens just started walking north. A few Norfolk soldiers saluted the Regulators, congratulating them on fighting bravely. A few just turned around, not wanting to face the men who'd killed so many of their friends.

After the battle, the men in logisitcs would chalk up the numbers to 82 dead, and close to 200 wounded. Numbers, they were just numbers to the Generals and Logistics men. Numbers that had names, families and stories. Hope and dreams, dead or wounded. Wounded. Wounded like Tyler.

Tyler wouldn't realize it until after the battle, but the grenade had taken its toll. His left ear was permanently damaged, and for the rest of his life he would only be able to hear out of his right ear. His leg was also gone, had to be amputated due to so much shrapnel being embedded in it. He'd live his life as a cripple on his family farm. And thats where his story end, and Norfolk's begins.

---

Offshore of Wilmington

Captain Joyce took the eyeglass out of her coat pocket and brought it up to her eyes. Onshore, she could see people. A town, filled with rafts stacked with cargo, and people on short selling it or buying it. There were buildings, some with signs that denoted them as places of Business. The perfect place to make contact for trade.

Behind Joyces ship, the Lorraine, was the Bring NSS Humble. Onboard the humble was General Ingram Hamish, one of the Representatives of the State that had been brought along. Joyce motioned her hand to a Lieutenant behind her, who promtely began raising one of the signal flags. The Humble raised a flag in response, and Joyce turned to her ship.

"ALL HANDS TO QUARTERS, WE'RE MOVING TO PORT!"

The Lorraine and the Humble unfurled their sails and began to sail for Wilmington. As they drew closer, the citizens on shore began to notice the relatively large wooden warships and they came closer. Some began to panic, while others moved to alert the authorities. By the time the two ships had arrived at the harbor and set anchor, the local military forces and police had arrived on the dock.

Captain Joyce took her hands off the wheel, turning to her second in command;

"Get a boat ready with a couple Marines, and watch the ship while i'm ashore. Signal the Hamish."

Half an hour later, Captain Joyce was in a boat with three armed Marines. They marines rowed, and a few dozen feet to their left was a similar boat, containing four Marines and General Hamish. The tow boats came up to the dock at Wilmington, where a massive crowd of people were being contained while a motly crew of local military and police stood. The commander was there, obviously distinguished from his men by his uniform and general stance. The General was the first to speak up, proudly proclaiming;

"I am General James Hamish of the State of Norfolk. We have sailed a good ways south from our home in Virginia to explore the coasts and its peoples. We mean no harm or hostility, and merely wish to speak with your leader."

---

Off the coast of Daytona Beach

Ensign Billy looked out into the stretch of water separating the NSS America from shore. The America was fast, one of the fastest ships in the entire Service, and thats why it was one of the three ships to sail ahead, along with another Cutter and the NSS Chesapeake. On short was a small settlement, but looks could be deceiving. Hours before, they had passed another settlement further up the coast, larger but still, one thing linked these two.

They both flew a flag of white with a red cross across it. They were both apart of the same nation. The same flag they'd seen when they passed Savannah.

A big nation.

It was here the Admiral had decided to go ashore, and so ashore they were to go. They dropped anchor a good bit from shore, and then set out a boarding part with the row boats. Billy was dragged off his gun crew to help row it, while a couple Marines and the right honorable Admiral himself sat in front of him. It was a honor like none Billy had ever had in his life.

After minutes of rowing, the boat ground ashore on the sandy beach. About an hour before they'd been spotted, before they had even begun to send landing parties. By now, the local militia was here, waiting onshore. They were more organized than most local forces, Billy could see. Almost as organized as the Norfolk forces back home. The Admiral stepped out of the boat, followed by his marines. Billy just sat in the boat, watching as the man dressed in all white with a blue Admirals cap walked up to the local Milita, and spoke.

"We are explorers and representatives of the great State of Norfolk. We hail from Virginia, and have traveled a long way to visit the other nations who inhabit the coasts of America. We bring no ill wishes or threats of violence, only a request to speak with your leaders."

[Puertollano]

Gulf Commonwealth
The Children of Atom

The weary missionaries stumbled across the rugged wasteland, as part of their spiritual goal to spread the word. Little had they known, their travel to the Gulf Commonwealth wasn't purely religous, or to spread the word of Atom. It was a strategic appearance on the behalf of High Confessor Wallace to gather information on the outside, and carving important relations with the outside. For long, the Church of Children of Atom were isolated since the pilgramage to the Glow. No traveler dared to reach the centre of the Glow, timely death would either await you by creatures or unhealthy amounts of radiation. The Children, who have lived in such an enviroment claim to be protected by Atom, however they have kept it a tightly held secret as to how they survive in such a climate. Therefore, those who leave the Glow have traits unusal to the average person. The missionaries had bulging, green, blood-shot eyes. Rough, scaling skin. The little hair they had left was shabby and unclean, and the robes they wore were stattered and unclean. The first sights of the Gulf Commonwealth soon appeared in the horizon, a missionarie pointed it out, while dragging an unwilling Brahmin along by a leash. "This is it, that must be the Gulf Commonwealth." Another one looked over at the map, hand drawn by the High Confessor himself, from old records. "Brother, he is right. The settlement ahead is the Gulf Commonwealth. How shall we approach them?" An older looking man picked up his pace, with a back-pack hauled across his shoulder. Soon he was walking in line with the others, sighing he said, "Leave all of the speaking to me. I have experience with talking with outsiders. Be warned, they will mock you, discredit you, and try to destroy your beliefs. Do not speak to anyone. If they ask you something, come to me. You must be mentally prepared, and I don't believe you are there yet. Atom will guide us." By this time they were close enough to nearby walls around the settlement. The missionaries looked like mere caravaners, with a Brahmin carrying a load of food, water and other essentials. There was nothing threatening about their presence. The older man, the one they reffered to as Brother, spoke up to the guards manning the walls; "Greetings, we come in peace. We are the holy representatives from the Children of Atom, and we wish to speak to your respective elders or idols."

[The Manticoran Empire]

Saltillo, Mississippi
Captain Nelson Flores and his squadron had reached Saltillo a week ago, to provide the town's small group of militia with their annual training. Flores had questioned the logic of training the smaller village militias for some time. In his mind, any town with a population too small to support a platoon should be exempted from providing men to the Militia, but his mind wasn't ever picked in Nashville. As much as it irritated him, he knew he had little choice but to obey his orders. At least the next town would be large enough to be worth the time.

The Saltillo Militia had 10 men in it. A sergeant, a corporal, and eight privates. They had no heavy weapons, minimal ammunition, and their weapons look like they were used maybe once a month. Flores knew to expect that at a town this small. With only about 300 people, Saltillo was an absurdly small town. They had an armory, sure. Most towns did and even some of the larger villages. The problem was that the Armorer didn't make much for the militia, since there weren't many militia in the town. It had also been a few years before a raider band had been by the town and so they had let a few things slide by them. Flores was counting down the hours until his squadron would leave this town. There next stop was the town of Tupelo, a border town with 70 men in the militia, it would take them about three and a half hours to reach the town at a walk.

Tupelo, Mississippi
Sergeant Obson fired another round at the raiders as they tried to breach the town's walls. The machine guns were starting to run low on ammunition and the sun was beginning the fall in the west. The battle had been raging since dawn this morning and many of the defenders were tiring. The women of the town were stepping up, taking the men's spots while they grabbed some food or water and running ammunition from the armories to the wall. Obson had wanted to send a radio message earlier in the battle but couldn't due to the town's Ham Radio set having a broken mike. A couple of the more technically minded guys were working to repair it. He hoped that it would be fixed before they lost the light. If the Army was on schedule, they should have a detachment not more than four hours walk from Tupelo. If it was a cavalry force, they could be here in little more than an hour. But only if the light held. If night fell before he could get a message off, then their reinforcements would have to wait until the next morning to march.
He squeezed off another round and called out, "BOOKER!" A young man ran over to him. "You ain't Booker, son."
"No, Sergeant. I'm Henry. Booker's over there," the boy pointed towards a machine gun tower behind him, "He's got a bullet in his leg. My sister is working on him. He told me to come to ya, see what's going on."
Obson swore strongly. Booker was his runner for one reason: the boy was fast. If he had a bullet in his leg, it was a crippling loss for not just Obson but for the Army as a whole. "Fine. Listen close, boy. Now I want you to run, not walk but RUN, over to the Church. I want you find the radio guys and ask them if they've got that damned radio fixed yet. Once you have an answer, run back here and give it to me. Now get going." The boy nodded and rushed off, sliding down a pole that supported a watchtower before sprinting down Jefferson towards the old Methodist Church. Obson returned to his task of holding the line.

Henry had never run this fast before in his life. He was there in about five minutes. He ran into the church and stopped for only a second next to a woman who was calming an infant. "Excuse me, Miss," he said, breathing heavily from the run, "Where are the guys who are working with the radio?" She looked at the infant for a second and then said, "They're downstairs, Henry. You best hurry." He smiled and thanked her before running off. He practically jumped down the short stairwell leading to the church basement. There he saw two men fiddling with a small box. He ran over to them and said, "Y'all working on that radio?" One of the guys nodded and said, "Yeah. We're finished. Obson need it?" Henry didn't speak for a second, he was still trying to catch his breath. After a few deep breaths, he said, "Yeah. Give me a few minutes, I'll be back." He then ran off back to the wall.

Obson was putting a new magazine in his rifle when he heard a voice call out, "SERGEANT OBSON!" He looked down to see Henry slowing to a halt at the base of the wall. "What is it, boy?"
"They's done with the radio, Sarge." Thank fucking Christ, Obson thought. He looked back at Henry and said, "Have them start calling the neighboring towns, starting with Saltillo. Have them ask if the Army has sent guys through yet. If they have, ask them to send them here with posthaste!"
"What does "post haste" mean?"
"FAST! AT THE DOUBLE!"
"YES SIR!" The boy ran off. Obson returned to the wall, praying that the boy understood him. If he didn't, then they could all be in a world of hurt.

Henry returned to the church and flew down to the basement. He wasn't even halfway down the stairs before he shouted, "Call Saltillo. See if the Army is there." The two guys by the radio looked at him and said, "What? You want us to call Saltillo and ask about the Army?" Henry slid to a stop next to them and said, "Yeah. We gotta find the nearest Army detachment and get them headed this way as fast as possible. Just between the three of us, I don't think Obson is liking our odds right now." The two radio guys looked at each other and shrugged. One of them turned on the mike and said, "Saltillo, this is Tupelo, can ya hear me, over?" Silence. "Saltillo, it's Tupelo. We're in a bit of trouble here so if ya wouldn't mind, can ya answer the damn radio?" More silence. "Maybe they's asleep?" Henry looked at the guy who had suggested that and said, "Pray they aren't cause the way Obson was, we might not last the night."

Saltillo, Mississippi
The old Saltillo Post Office housed Saltillo's ham radio. The guy assigned to watch it was peeling an apple when a voice buzzed over it. "Saltillo, this is Tupelo, can ya hear me, over?" He looked at the radio for a bit, wondering why the hell Tupelo was calling him right now. The radio buzzed again, "Saltillo, it's Tupelo. We're in a bit of trouble here so if ya wouldn't mind, can ya answer the damn radio?" He took his feet off the table and turned his chair to face the radio, pushing the talk button as he did. "Tupelo, it's Saltillo. What's going on?"
"HOT DAMN, it's about time. We're getting shot up by some raiders. Is anyone from the Army there?"
The young radio operator looked out his window and saw one of the riders. "HEY! YOU! YEAH ON THE HORSE! GET OVER HERE!" He pushed the talk button again and said, "Yeah. A squadron of Army Cavalry is here."
"Fuck, man, send 'em our way quick-like. Sergeant Obson doesn't think we'll last much longer." The soldier lept from his horse and said, "What's the problem, lad?"
"It's Tupelo, trooper. I just got a message from them. They're saying that some raiders are hitting them and they might not last much longer. They want to know if you guys could go and pull them out of the fire." The soldier said, "Give me ten minutes and I'll find out." He returned to his horse and galloped off to find Captain Flores.

He found him a couple minutes later, next to an old Red Rocket gas station. "Captain Flores! Tupelo just called. Apparently their getting hit hard by some raiders and need urgent assistance." Flores looked at his staff. "Sergeant Watson, gather the boys. Tell them to pack up only their essential kit. Trooper, go back to the Post Office, tell Tupelo we're on our way." The soldier saluted and galloped off.

He reached the post office not much more than a minute later. He didn't even get off his horse, he just rode to the window and said, "Tell Tupelo the cavalry's coming," before galloping away. The operator hit the talk button again and said, "Tupelo, this is Saltillo. Hold tight, guys. The cavalry is coming."

Tupelo, Mississippi
"The Cavarly is coming." Henry almost cried when the voice finished. The Tupelo operator sent back, "Thanks a million, Saltillo. We owe you." Henry ran off back to the wall, practically knocking the church door off of it's hinges as he went. In a few minutes, he was at the base of the wall. "SERGEANT OBSON! SALTILLO'S SENDING SOME SOLDIERS OUR WAY!"

Obson looked down at Henry and called out, "What's being sent?"
"Sounds like they're sending cavalry, though that might be an expression."
"Well get up here, boy. We gotta hold the line for at least three more hours."

[Absolon-7]

Fair Oaks Ranch, Main Building (Now Re-purposed Dragoon Encampment)

Captain P.G.T. Beauregard sat on his favorite stool facing next to the bar waiting on one the privates to finish serving his drink. Men were strewn around the entire room in varying states of undress drool dripping out of their mouths and a bottle of whiskey in hand. They were celebrating his recent promotion to replace the old captain who had prematurely retired due due a bad case of gout. This meant his burden now included having his own 6th Squadron known as the Ghost Riders, have regular interaction with the 4th Squadron and the 2nd squadron. Respectivly he remembred their nicknames being the Screaming Eagles and The Wild Hunt. Sometimes they'd conduct joint exercises and drills but he'll leave them alone for the most part since Beauregard wasn't one to break a long standing tradition as to constantly breath down their neck.

Him being promoted also meant that a lower ranking officer had to be promoted as well to fill in the void and then another to fill his spot and then another to fill in the final spot. This left his squadron one man short but it wasn't a big deal. The private returned with his drink and having his fill, Beauregard commenced to get the men up for morning exercises. They grumbled and complained but in a few minutes they got themselves off the floor and dressed, if a little frumpy. Looking out where the windows used to be it was proving to be an average sunny day like an other. How wrong they all were.

In came rushing a boy, barefooted and his clothes in tatters. He frantically looked around screaming bloody murder before finding himself next to one the older men in the squadron named John Bobby.

"Please, y'all gottsa help me! These greenskins attacked the family farm and killed Uncle Phillip-Bob. Please, sir!," he gasped for air clinging on John Bobby's uniform before collapsing.

"The hell's he on about," grunted P.G.T. bending over to pick up the boy who couldn't have been older than 11.

"I think he's the son of the Cook Farm owner. I usually buy our bread from there, sir," responded John Bobby, "It's right over the next few hills."

"Alright, Sergeant, mobilize everyone to ride the hell over there! You four," P.G.T. pointed at the four most hung over soldiers, "I want y'all to take care of the boy till we get back you here. None you better fuckin' drink either while I'm gone!"

After he barked orders at the drunks, P.G.T left to oversee the entire squadron mobilizing in front of the country house. Once everyone was accounted for they thundered across the prairie and fortunately the farm was only a short distance away so it only took a half hour at most. The sight that was upon them shook them to the core. A majority of the Ghost Riders were new recruits straight out of the academy and this scene straight out of hell would have made them vomit if it weren't for the iron-hard discipline the Dragoon Academy had instilled in them. The besieged farm house was surrounded by at least two dozen feral ghouls smacking their putrid hands against the building's walls screams from the wife and kids could be heard inside.

"Alright let's see...John Bobby take ten to an initial run to draw few away. After you lead them to us we'll cut them down and afterwards we'll all go skirmishing." Instructed P.G.T. to the Sergeant.

They set off immediately firing their carbines at the tail end of the horde before moving back on top the hill. According to plan seven feral ghouls followed them the rest of the squadron moved in to cut them down. An even larger chunk came running towards them getting distracted by the sound of cold steel slicing off irradiated flesh and the clatter of hooves against the baked dirt. Summarily the entire squadron charged firing their carbines into the ghoulish crowd before switching to their sabers. The hard swings of their swords lopped off head after head and before they knew it the entire horde had fallen to the sword and gun. The only casualties were two privates who were pulled of their horses and lightly mauled by the ghouls. It was at the very end of the fight so their wounds weren't too bad.

P.G.T. furrowed his brow in frustration. All this meant was even more burdens. First, he'd have to report such a large incursion of ghouls to HQ in San Antonio and then he'd have to send messengers to nearby squadrons. Which meant he'd be left with only fifty-three able men until the messengers returned and the privates recovered. For now, however, the only things he needed to do were making sure the family in the house was okay and disposing of the ghoul carcasses. Whatever happens, the next few months would prove to be a living nightmare.

[Elerian]

-Snip-

Daytona Beach, Norfolk Delegation

It had caused quite the stir in Daytona when a veritable armada had turned up out of the blue. Curious onlookers had flooded the beaches when the ships signalled they meant no harm, and wished to come ashore. Still, the wiser men and women of Daytona stayed in their homes and watched from afar. Should things come to blows, the quaint fishing town could do little to fend off three warships. The nearest Commonwealth vessel that could go toe to toe with the interlopers was a hundred miles distant.

The Mayor of Daytona had neither the authority, nor the will to treat with the men from Norfolk. But, this didn’t stop him from giving the Admiral and his men a warm welcome before Commonwealth diplomats could be retrieved. This was in part to foster a positive first impression, but also to try and prevent any hostilities from forming between the two peoples. For the Admiral, a banquet was held with a three course meal. The feast consisted primarily of seafood, including a gumbo, grilled sea trout, and pistachio creams to finish the meal. For the men still aboard the ships, fresh provisions were provided.

Once a diplomat finally arrived days later, a formal dialogue began. First and foremost was establishing where these sailors came from, and what exactly it was they sought here.

“The Gulf Commonwealth welcomes you to our land. What brings you to our shores?” The diplomat asked calmly.

* * *

-Snip-

Columbus, Atom Delegation

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

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

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

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

* * *

Into the Lion’s Den

It had taken several hours each to get them Into Atlanta, and that figure did not include the months of planning and preparation. Anxiety wore patience thin, agitating each as they waited for their turn to enter the Washington Republic, but no amount of distraction could make them forget the incredible task they had been given. The Commonwealth told them it was counting on them. That message had been given to dozens of other agents operating in other settlements in the same manner. This immense burden pressured them to ignore the discomfort and press forward.

Atlanta was an ideal locale for a cell. Distrust of outsiders, over-equipped citizenry and a propensity to violently lash out in order to hide their internal problems. People were looking for another way to vent, to deal with the problems that plagued them.

This particular cell’s arrival was staggered across many hours and four caravans, one of many precautionary measures to ensure zero suspicion. A dozen operatives had been tasked for the mission. Their leader, Montag was a veteran of several assignments. As such, he walked with a certain self assuredness that came with years of proud service. His second would follow him three hours later with a different caravan. If everything went to plan, he would retrieve their weapons from a local courier company paid to hold them a week prior. If things didn’t follow as planned, there were a number of backup plans set in place. They cared little for the wellbeing of a local criminal or an unfortunate militiaman.

The last of the operatives came next, Haley and Wilson. They would pose as a couple, which would hide them among so many other impoverished immigrants seeking a new start. Being lovers only made the facade of desperation more believable. They would get through the easiest out of the bunch, blending in with all the rest. Seeking work in an economy that was already struggling.

Theirs was a mission of great importance, and they knew this. The weight of responsibility seldom left their mind for long.

* * *

Weston Work Camps, Foreverglades

Great efforts were being made to push back the encroaching maw that was the Foreverglades. Even before the Great War, it was said that the Foreverglades had given the pre-war Americans a great deal of trouble. In exchange for land grants and lower taxes, citizens were employed by the government to turn the useless marshlands into arable land. This initiative saw an influx of poor or otherwise destitute families. To achieve this daunting task, a vast number of canals and drainage ditches would be required. Most of the digging would have to be done manually, but a handful of Brahmin teams were relegated to assist. Though, they wouldn’t be nearly enough.

Prospectors and scavengers flocked to the area to root around in portions of the reclaimed city. Numerous small settlements were beginning to take root, settling down for the long haul. The influx of capital, both monetary and otherwise, also brought unsavory characters. Snake oil peddlers selling homemade remedies, thieves looking to make a quick cap, and bandits looking to strong arm their way into the equation. To keep order, the Third Army Corps was brought in to watch over everything.

It would be sometime before the project came to fruition, but should it succeed it would greatly benefit the Commonwealth as a whole.

* * *

Ashes Ashes, Part Two

Colonel Hart, of the Savannah Marcher Brigade, sat in the passenger seat of his loudly humming command truck looking at the passing scenery. His wish had been granted, he was no longer stuck in Savannah. Back there the most exciting part of his job was breaking up drunken bar fights and investigating the occasional killing of livestock. As they passed the cotton, tobacco and maize plantations children would crowd the side of the road to cheer them on their way. But that happened less and less now that they’d strayed far beyond Commonwealth territory. Folks out this far were suspicious of armed men, and rightfully so.

There were a number of small post-war settlements between them and Charleston that were in neither the Commonwealth, nor Charleston’s sphere of influence. They were forced to rely chiefly on themselves, and sometimes one another. That would soon change, or so the upper echelons of the Commonwealth believed. The reason why the old world trucks were necessary was not just to bring the Brigade to Charleston in a timely matter, but also to transport lavish gifts for the communities that they passed by. This, they hoped would convince them to align themselves with the Commonwealth. That and the show of force that their convoy presented.

Shortly they would arrive in Charleston and set up a command post to operate from. In tandem with the local authorities it wouldn’t be long before the raiders were apprehended and given their just desserts. Hart heard what had become of New Hope, the settlement they had raided, and not much was left of it. The houses had been razed, their men butchered, and their women and children defiled. Hart would be glad to see them all hang.

Soon they would be avenged.

* * *

The Paths Not Taken

At the head of a crowd stood Joshua Redding, his shadow cast before him, tall and thin, and fell across the assembly like a sword. He regarded the people laid out before him with a mix of passion and sincerity but held no doubt regarding his following words.

". . . I tell you today, all of the wasteland will kneel before us!"

As Redding finished his speech, raising his fist in the air, before seeing the gesture being made like a wave through the crowd, until every man, woman, and child held their fist clenched up towards the blue sky. "Hail Redding!” They shouted, their cries were deafening and lasted long after Redding had left the stage.

Joshua Redding had long since been identified as a rabble rouser by the state, but that didn’t stop him from imparting his vision to the masses. His was the voice of a small but very vocal party in Congress. They held only three seats, but they were often on the lips of both politicians and common folk alike. They were provocateurs, slowly gathering a dedicated and vocal following with their antics. Lately however, their typically harmless shenanigans have turned increasingly violent. The firebombing of a local bar that catered to a ghoul clientele had implicated a group closely associated with them.

Because of this, two agents of the Home Secretary were located near the rear of the crowd. Redding was being closely monitored by the authorities. While he may well have been aware of this fact, Redding gave no signs of tempering his rhetoric. If anything he was stepping up his conduct.

[Skarten]

The Outskirts of West Memphis,Tennesee
A small group of raiders watched carefully the city in the distance. Using binoculars, they took notes of guards, turrets, anything that could be useful that was in the settlement.The Tsar had ordered to prepare a attack against West Memphis,an settlement on the borders of the Dixie Republic, as it was certain to have great loot for the band.
The Cossacks, as the scouts in the tsardom were called, had finished taking notes. They mounted their horses and rode away in the wasteland, heading for the outpost of Forrest City, where the raider forces awaited for their return
On the same night
At the middle of the night, covered by the cloak of darkness and equipped with Nocturne Gear, the Tsarist Engineers sneaked their way to the Dixie walls, planting dynamite charges and retreating to their hiding spots to wait until dawn.
Some Hours later, as the light started to appear, the Raider Force of around 250, who was in a nearby position, began to make their way to the settlement, taking care to not alert the settlement's guards.They were to wait for the dynamite to be activated and quickly charge into the settlement, in a attempt to avoid reinforcements from Memphis to turn the raid into a bloody battle.

A Short Time later
The Tsarist raiders were in position, and the engineers ready to activate the bombs.
There was silence as the raiders awaited...And then it started.The bombs were primed, causing the dynamites to explode, killing a few guards in the process.Almost immediately, the tsarist raiders emerged, charging upon the settlement while shouting "In The Name Of The Tsar!", firing at guards in the walls and, well, anyone that wasn't a raider.
They didn't Have much time.They had to be quick.

[Northern Poland]

Caswell Island Docks,Republic Of Orange Beach
A Lieutenant would stand with about 23 Militia, 17 Privates, 2 Corporals, 1 Sergeant, and 2 Warrant Officers where the ranks of the bunch. A group of 30 Coast Guard with the entire Navy, three Patrol Vessels. The Lieutenant would start to speak, "Alright People, Our plan is to go into a Old state called Florida. We'll land at a Pre-War Place called 'Big lagoon State Park', and then we will march to a old Military Base called NAS
Pensacola/Forrest Sherman Field." "We want to get all the Pre-War equipment we can, and maybe get some settlements on our side." The Lieutenant Turns, asking "Any Questions?" no one answers. "Alright, start loading into the PT boats."


Holiday Harbor, Florida
"Are we there Lieutenant?" Asks a Private, looking around the area. "No, but we think the Pre-War government left something here." The ROB Gulf Shores docks, and Squad 7 Led by Sergeant Luey Newell steps out. He Yells, "Start searching the docks, watch for Mire-" When suddenly 2 Regular Mirelurks, 1 Mirelurk softshell, and a Mirelurk King appear. "Get In a firing line!" The Sarge Yells, and they get in a firing line. "He Yells, "FIRE!" as his 9 Militiamen open fire on the Mirelurks. They wipe out the softshell, but then the Gulf shore opens fire with its rotary Cannon, obliterating the Mirelurks. They walk around the dock, when they see 2 Fishing Boats, Good size too. They call up the crew of the Gulf, But most of the Militia know how to sail basic ships, but not Military vessels. The Gulf crew explains the controls, talking about 50 minutes. Then Fireteam Charlie And Fireteam Dragoon would man the boats, with sarge getting back in the Gulf. The Fishing boats would head back to Caswell Island docks.

Southwest Branch Library, Florida
The 17 Militia would settle down in the library, boarding up windows, with the Sniper team setting upstairs. They would roll down sleeping bags, and the radioman would set down the handheld radio. "Explorer 1 to Home, Do you copy?" The Radio Team back at Orange Beach Replies "We read, status of the Mission?" She (The radioman, Radiogirl?) would answer "We are in a library, setting down for the night, Over and Out."

Soon, The raiders would find them.

[The Tophat Empire]

Offshore of Wilmington

Captain Joyce took the eyeglass out of her coat pocket and brought it up to her eyes. Onshore, she could see people. A town, filled with rafts stacked with cargo, and people on short selling it or buying it. There were buildings, some with signs that denoted them as places of Business. The perfect place to make contact for trade.

Behind Joyces ship, the Lorraine, was the Bring NSS Humble. Onboard the humble was General Ingram Hamish, one of the Representatives of the State that had been brought along. Joyce motioned her hand to a Lieutenant behind her, who promtely began raising one of the signal flags. The Humble raised a flag in response, and Joyce turned to her ship.

"ALL HANDS TO QUARTERS, WE'RE MOVING TO PORT!"

The Lorraine and the Humble unfurled their sails and began to sail for Wilmington. As they drew closer, the citizens on shore began to notice the relatively large wooden warships and they came closer. Some began to panic, while others moved to alert the authorities. By the time the two ships had arrived at the harbor and set anchor, the local military forces and police had arrived on the dock.

Captain Joyce took her hands off the wheel, turning to her second in command;

"Get a boat ready with a couple Marines, and watch the ship while i'm ashore. Signal the Hamish."

Half an hour later, Captain Joyce was in a boat with three armed Marines. They marines rowed, and a few dozen feet to their left was a similar boat, containing four Marines and General Hamish. The tow boats came up to the dock at Wilmington, where a massive crowd of people were being contained while a motly crew of local military and police stood. The commander was there, obviously distinguished from his men by his uniform and general stance. The General was the first to speak up, proudly proclaiming;

"I am General James Hamish of the State of Norfolk. We have sailed a good ways south from our home in Virginia to explore the coasts and its peoples. We mean no harm or hostility, and merely wish to speak with your leader."

---

The Lorrain and Humble where not as unexpected as maybe they had thought, at first they had been detected by SONAR in the waters Outside The capital, since then the men of the coastal artillery had watched them from dugouts and parapets. Camouflaged coats, and heavy guns had followed them. Standard procedure when such heavily armed ships grazed the coast of the empire. But there was no need to make enemies unless you had to, so they just watched, and reported on movements. The collective efforts of ancient SONAR, radios, optical telegraphs and runners made it so the eyes off the empire, hidden behind thick gas masks, always knew where the ships where going.

as they approached the harbors along what was once Wrightsville beach, now the main shipping point for the Imperial City of Wellingtonne, a major trading and transport hub, they could see that it was also defended as such. Parapets dotted the shoreline and on some piers long barrels protruded, towers, no doubt both to guide ships, and to act as a final lookout where also common to see. As the two vessels came to a halt and dropped anchors, they could see how some of the closer barrels slowly shifted, not pointing directly at the ships, but safe to say, if they where to shoot, it would probably kiss the sails as warning.

On the pier that the visitors rowboats docked by they where indeed greeted by both police, and the local army, it was easy to assume who was who. The police, clad in bright red coats and black pants, with a brassard on the right arm that stated "Imperial Police". The others where clad in long coats, tall leather boots, gas masks and helmets, all in black, except the perfectly polished breastplates they carried, like shadows of the night. Safe to assume that those where the military. Long rifles rested easily in there arms, and on the hips, holsters, and a scabbard with a long blade in it. One of them stood out however, as this one lacked the long rifle, and had a aura of command around him. He looked for a moment as they visitors introduced themselves, and then spoke

"General James Hamish of the State of Norfolk, the reputation of your nation precedes you. We have heard of the State of Norfolk, and have been watching your ships for some time now. Welcome to the Imperial City of Wellingtonne, one of the jewels of the Tophat Empire, i apologize for the precautions, it is not often we get unexpected guests that carry such armaments as your self. I am Officer 9823, Rank: Lieutenant Colonel, and the military command of this district. We have sent word for the Elector as well, She should be here shortly, but for now. Pleased to make your acquaintance" The apparent officer of the group said, saluting first, before stretching out his leather covered hand in a greeting

---

Myrtle Beach, before the war a resort town, now, ruins, sparsely inhabited by a few families . But it had two gens in the dust, one, a mostly whole harbor area, and the other, a locked underground safe-room, it was not large, single room with 5 beds, a small storage unit attached, but it had something very important to those that had claimed with a few days ago, a mostly whole radar antenna. Those that had claimed the shelter, and the area around it, where no other then the Empire, it had sent twenty Dragoons with all haste to this location, and another twenty to the former city of Conway, it too would be claimed for the Empire, the future of humanity, and the inhabitants safety. In the weeks prior messengers and diplomats had done the rounds in the areas with higher population, and via words, weapons, and not a little coin had most agreed that maybe becoming citizens of the empire was not the worst idea. What remained now was to make good on that, and theses forty, black as the sot that covered the world, riders was the first step towards that.

They would establish a foothold on Myrtle Beach due to the waterfront, and the logistical asset that it was, and on Conway, as one of the bigger population centers. From it the grips of Imperial rule would spread, by word, weapon and whatever it took.

[Eventlandia2]

---

Events

---

The Union


A Group of Citizens in the far northern part of the Union have recently declared independence. Calling themselves the "Republic of Virginia", a force of close to 250 armed revolutionaries stormed the local government building in Roanoke and declared their Republic. So far the "Revolution" is contained to just the city, but many have flocked to the Revolutions cause, with nearly a warband of 500 having gathered there with plans to spread their revolution to the rest of Union held Virginia. The Leader of the Revolutionaries, George Virginia, has sent letters to the Regulators and Republic of Washington, begging for support in their campaign.

---

Gulf Commonwealth


While working on the project to drain Foreverglades, a group of prospectors stumbled upon a small compound hidden in the swamps. As they drew near, they discovered a pair of Super mutants guarding its entrance. In a panic, the two men opened fire on the mutants, who promptly return fire on them. The fire fight lasted two hours, and resulted in one Prospector dying. After the news of the fight spread, many have become vocal in their cries for the Army to step in and get rid of these mutants. So far, the Mutants themselves have been rather peaceful, but many in politics have whipped up a firestorm over the fact that a Gulf Citizen was killed. Its also probably a coincidence that the ones most vocal are the ones that stand to acquire the very valuable land that the Compound sits on; the land is free of marsh and yet very fertile as evidenced by the large farms and orchards the Mutants have created. If they were to be evicted, a rather sizeable settlement could be created overnight from the Mutants creations.

---

Second Kingdom of Orleans


Bounty hunters have long been a staple of the Wasteland. With many places not having a uniform government or law enforcements, Bounty Hunters stepped in to deal with problems, as long as you had the caps of course. For years, bounty hunters had taken out troublesome individuals that local Orleanian authorities could not, and as such they earned a good reputation. However, recently, the Sheriff of Donaldsonville, a small village on the Mississippi, was shot dead in the city square by a Bounty Hunter on contract. After this blatant killing of a government official, many in the Kingdom's administration have called for a end to Bounty Hunting in the Kingdom, while other advise that outlawing the practice would lead to a heavier burden being placed on Law Enforcement.

---

San Antonio


A group of raiders, calling themselves the "Nuka-Breakers", have been sighted attacking caravans along the I-35. They've made frequent raids on San Antonio land, but their base of operations is outside their borders. Rumors from traders say to steer clear of the old city of Dilley on the I-35, with many theorizing it to be the Nuka-Breakers headquarters.

---

Republic of Washington


The Imperial Republic of Kentucky was a small secessionist power in the far western corner of Kentucky. Claimed by neither Washington nor under the control of the Horsemen, the "Imperial Republic" declared its shaky independence. However, its newest ruler, Imperial President Harrison Cartwell, has sent a lengthy treaty to the Republic of Washington, asking for the Imperial Republic to be accepted as a state into the Republic. There is, however, a catch; they will only enter if they are allowed to retain their authoritarian, near fascist style of Government, and to also have certain exceptions from Washington law and a degree of Autonomy. Additionally, they request support to defend themselves from raiders from the north, attacking settlements on the Mississippi using War Cannoes. Many were quick to dismiss the "Imperial Republic", stating that they should come under the Washington flag a Democracy; by peaceful means, or through force. Others note that resources spent on Kentucky would have to be taken away from the borders with the Raiders in the West and the other Powers in the south and east. A small minority also note that annexing the Imperial Republic would give them greater control of the Mississippi, more population to tax and conscript, and more Farmland to grow produce.

---

National Commonwealth of Texas


The city of Freeport was recently hit with a surprise raid by a group of two dozen men in advanced combat armor and laser weaponry. The local militia force was overwhelmed and caught offguard, and the raiders made off with most of the cities food and raw materials. A plucky young scout with the Militia managed to track them to a bunker in the fields south of Bay City. They seem to be a group of tech worshiping raiders, who found the old pre-war military bunker stocked with advanced tech. After the scouts report reached Houston, the Military immediately called for a Punitive Expedition to whip them out and take their technology for Texas, while the Diplomats urged caution and that instead they should open a diplomatic dialoug with them; they obviously only raided Freeport for materials they didn't have, why not trade with them instead?

---

Amarillo


A group of men dressed in red sports gear and carrying a large assortment of melee weapons were recently spotted on the border. They have yet to attack, but they've been very hostile to any traders who've passed them. They seem to be scouts, watching the border towns of Amarillo, carry only a large banner with a yellow Bull...

---

88th Brigade


James Anderson, better known as Lanius, was a former tribal who had rose from a Slave to become one of the Brigades most capable warleaders. Recently, however, he and his warband in Columbus have decided to proclaim Lanius as the true leader of the Brigade, challenging its rightful leadership. Many other warbands have flocked to Lanius, with the Brigade being nearly split down the middle between him and the rightful Leader, setting up what could be a civil war if it isn't defused properly.

---

Regulators


After the defeat handed to them during the short Regulator-Norfolk War, some parts of the Regulators began to distrust the administration. A group calling themselves the "New Regulators" split, taking over the I-64 West Checkpoint and most of I-64 west of Charleston, including the city itself. They believe the only way to protect the people is to rule them, and have set up a pseudo-military dictatorship based in Charleston. They have a army of close to 125 Regulators under their wing, along with 200 locals that were forced into military service. The old guard have been staunch in their opposition, stating they must wipe out the New Regulators, while some of the New Guard have said that they should seek peace and an alliance with the New Regulators, maybe even adopting some of their methods.

---

Atlas Free Traders


Under neath the mighty city of Baltimore is a series of tunnels, once used by trains to move people around. Now no longer used, they sit docile, occasionally picked up by the odd prospector. Recently, however, odd creatures have begun surfacing from the tunnels through manholes and other such exits. They look vaguely humanoid, but are hunched over and walk on all fours, violently attacking anything in sight. They're also very resilient, taking multiple shots to kill. Some have called for the city to band together and get rid of the threat, while others simply say "Meh, not my problem.

---

Enclave


A group of wasteland traders called the Gun Runners have recently come under the ire of the Enclave, after a Gun Runners caravan was discovered to contain Enclave Equipment. Stamped serial numbers and all. While tech getting into the hand of wastelands is problematic, the more pressing problem is how they got there. The quantity of arms is too large for any footsoldier, which leaves only a few possible candidates; Alan Hanks, Quartermaster; James Cannon, Head Officer of Supply and Logisitcs; Ted and Brock Baker, the men responsible for Distribution; and Edgar White, Head Scientist for the Weapons Production Department. The problem is that the only clue that Enclave investigators could discover, is all the guns were all missing their S&L inspection mark.

---

Children of Atom


A caravan carrying two missionaries of the Children of Atom was hit off I-65 near Evergreen. The odd part about the attack was nothing of value was taken, only the Missionaries were looted. Many are suspious as to the attack, as one of the surviving caravaners stated they are ambushed, with one of the raiders saying "Leave the stuff, we're here for the Holy Man". Additionally, one of them dropped a timetable for the Missionaries journey, a timetable only available to some of the high level men in the Children of Atom...

---

Tophat Empire


After the Annexation of Myrtle Beach, several Tophat caravans and settlements have come under assault from a tribal band known as the Far Walkers. With white and red face paint along with some spears, clubs, swords and basic firearms they have attacked in waves to push out these foreign threats. Their main camp is in the pre-war city of Tabor City, and many within the military call for a expedition to exterminate these Tribals.

---

Grand Tsardom


Theres a group of ghouls located in the pre-war village of Stuttgart, who have come to worship the towns local nuclear reactor. Using these homemade "Space Suits", they spend everyday worshiping the radiation and more importantly, the technology. They've developed basic energy weapons, including basic plasma pistols and laser muskets. They've been quite isolationist, but shoot any outsider on sight. Many within the Warband call for a expedition to cleanse the Tsardom of these ghouls, and take their technology in the name of the Tsar. However, others urge caution, as their advanced weaponry might lead to large amounts of casualities, and say to just leave the Ghouls be.

---

The Cartel


One of the Cartels caravans recently stumbled upon a old pre-war Sunset bottling plant. A quick look inside shows that the plant had been largely under scavenged, with many original parts being still available. One of the Caravaners who had practice with mechanics, even said it would be possible to get the Bottling machine back up and working with a bit of work, time and resources. One of the problems though is that by restarting the bottling machine, it would allow the Cartel to begin printing Bottle Caps, which could lead to incredibly inflation and even crash the Wasteland market.

[The Traansval]

Norfolk - Event
a few days ago a ship drifted into the Norfolk port, the port authorities went out and investigated it, and found it empty of crew, but full of cargo. The vessels were claimed by the state, and now the government have to decide what should happen to the cargo. Since then several households have fallen violently ill, and two lay dead, and there are those that demand that the port and area where the sick live the quarantined until whatever has struck them has moved on. However, there is no hard evidence that links the two events together

[Northern Poland]

Southwest Branch Library, Florida
A group of 15 Raiders would watch the library one of them saying, "Looks like scavengers to me, We should take 'Em boss!" The Leader would say, "Yeah, Jeffery, open fire."
The Corporal watches as the treeline erupts in fire, and he Yells, "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK, OPEN FIRE!" The heavy, Sergeant Johnson would raise a MG4, and let out the entire mag at the raiders, killing 1. A raider would raise his Hunting rifle, and took out a Private with a single shot. A private would grab his grenade launcher, firing it at the raiders. It would blow up, wounding 2 raiders in the process. The Leader would yell, "Pull back, their too well equi-" Before getting beheaded by a Sniper on the roof. The remaining 13 would run off, carrying the 2 wounded comrades. Johnson would unload another mag into the retreating raiders, killing 3. The lieutenant walks up Yelling, "Pack Up, we're moving on!" They would pack up really quick, and would run off.

Outskirts of the Airfield, Florida
The Lieutenant would look at the 25 Feral ghouls that where running at them on the Tarmac. he Gets everyone in a firing line, with 2 MG4s equipped on the team. He yells, "FIRE!" as the 16 men rip into the ghouls, killing 5 in the first volley. The Lieutenant would raise his Service rifle, Firing 3 bursts, killing 2 ghouls. 2 Soldiers throw frags, killing 7 Ghouls. They would then clear up the 11 ghouls left, losing 1 man though. They would start looting (results in next post)

[Greater Redosia]

Richmond HQ, Council Room

"Yes I know they took the whole damn I-64 west of the settlement, yes I know they are against us and I know they took a huge chunk of our forces. We have about 72 dead and about 126 wounded during the battle of Hampton, most of the casualties were sustained towards the militia that was gathered. As for the loss of the Bridge Checkpoint we had another 14 killed and 23 wounded...17 of those unable to continue their duties as regulators. But now we have those that wish to go against everything that we believed in." Garner was once again at the table, once again the chess pieces being replaced with that of a different color where the I-64 west checkpoint should and and Charleston. The Old Guard whispering between themselves while the New Guard which the New Law Front now call themselves were mumbling to each other, "Garner with all due respect, I think we should not fight these men. They are our brothers and what they propose isn't exactly bad, we govern them and protect them that way." Jessie smiled at him but Garner didn't budge, "This is exactly what the ones that formed the Regulators never wanted to have happened."

He stood up and walked over towards the private radio in the corner of the room, one that only should be used for emergencies. "Regulators of Richmond and the nearby areas, it is time we must rally together once more to fight off the so called "New Regulators" that dare try to claim our name. Their ideals conflict with our own and now we must put down this rabid dog before it grows to bite back, they are forcing the people to fight, forcing them to commit to a government they never wanted. I shall personally lead this attack against Charleston and show that we will not be messed with, I order all possible Regulators to rally at the Zion Crossroads on the I-64. I hope to see as many of you there, god speed and may the people of Zion not be affected by this battle."

After the radio broadcast he shoved himself away and went to the locker, grabbing his duster, his .357 revolver now fully loaded and a hat on his head. He left the room leaving the four council members alone, he walked through the building down to the street below. Already a large assembly of Regulators numbering in Richmond to at least 115, he walked past them all and they began to follow. Once they would get on to the I-64, many more will be joining to put down the rabid dog in Charleston.

Glenrio New Mexico, Legion Camp

The small camp had little happening within, a few slaves were still setting up tents for the legionaries as well as a main planning tent for the Decanus. The Decanus was named Cordus, he was usually addressed as such, Decanus Cordus which he proudly wore that name to get where he is now. Though he wasn't alone, along with his two bands, his contubernia, numbering his small force up to 16 men, he was quite ready to enforce and spread the will of Caesar. But of course he wasn't the only one in charge of the scouting operations to the east, the Frumentarii came along as well. Bringing five of their numbers including the commander. Blaze Winds was the name of the head of the Frumentarii that came along, approaching Cordus in the sly movements most Frumentarii had.

"Ave Decanus Cordus" Blaze Winds said as he raised his arm, "Ave Blaze Winds, what news to you bring us. Success I do hope." Blaze Winds smiled and rested his arm on Cordus' shoulder, a smug smile on the Frumentarri's face. "Well my dear Decanus, i'll let you know that my underlings have already begun operations to infiltrate the settlements. From what several journals from these Caravans have told us there is a city known as Amarillo, it is within the control of this 'Morgan Domain' so we are looking forward to seeing what happens." Blaze Winds inching closer to Cordus's face, smiling wider, "Well who knows, maybe we may see them as an amicus. A possible ally within the region to help us spread the will of Caesar."

The Decanus shoved the Frumentarri away, making Blaze Winds give a quick cry of protest but he silences quickly. He knew Cordus will be hard to crack, but he was made to crack stone people like him. "Well my dear Decanus Cordus, whatever path they may choose we shall prevail as such the might and wrath of Caesar has shown before. For now we will bide our time and continue our raids, until either the Morgan's send an armed force, or an envoy. Only then will we know where we go from there~" And in the mean time, he is going to continue trying to crack the shell around that cute Decanus always so serious. "Whatever you say Blaze Winds, but I believe in Caesar and his rule shall reign supreme." Blaze Winds chuckled, "Ave, true to Caesar." The Decanus nodded back to him, "Ave, true to Caesar..."

[The Manticoran Empire]

Washington
Republic of Washington
The Capitol was filled with voices as the delegates argued. Some wanted to annex the little empire to their north. Others desired to conquer it. Frank knew that war wasn't an option at this point. Raids were picking up in the South, demanding attention. Annexation was also not an option. The Republic would not and could not permit a territory as brutal and repressive as this to have a say in the Congress. Most of the voices shared his opinion. "WE MUST REFUSE THEM! THE REPUBLIC CANNOT STAND AS A BEACON OF HOPE IF WE LET THESE SCOUNDRELS INTO OUR MIDST!"
"WE NEED THE PEOPLE AND THE LAND!"
"WE CAN GET THOSE IN OTHER WAYS! WE DO NOT NEED TO SACRIFICE OUR PRINCIPLES!"
"GENTLEMEN, Gentlemen, please," Frank stood as he spoke. "I agree with the esteemed Delegate from Memphis," he said, indicating the first man who spoke. Alton Dell had served in the Army before coming to politics. He was a firm believer in abandoning the militia system and moving to a more centralized military force. Unfortunately, he consistently lost that argument, since the threat of raider bands on the borders mandated maintaining the militias. The second man, Knoxville Delegate Emmanuel Kunz, had a different opinion entirely. A lifelong politician, he believed the military was too large, sucked up too many resources, and should be shrunk drastically to fund other projects including, rather unsurprisingly, a rebuilding of Dollyworld in Gatlinburg. He also consistently lost his argument, since virtually all of the remaining delegates saw no benefit in funding Knoxville and had their own constituencies to think about. "It is true that the Republic could use more land and more people. However, our situation is not so desperate that we need to whore ourselves out. There are reports of large raider bands in the south. An Army unit in Saltillo sent a radio message last night, stating that they were moving to relieve Tupelo, which was under siege. We have not heard back from them. It is imperative that we secure our southern border against these ruffians. For know we should leave this "Empire" alone. We shall watch it, and do what is necessary to keep it from becoming a threat. But for the time being, all out war is not an option."

[Penn Hills]

Donaldsonville, the Second Kingdom of Orleans

Deputy Good couldn't really do much to prevent the lynching of the supposed bounty hunter. Just about an day after he shot the woman who killed Sheriff Hicks, a few dozen farmhands and midshipmen arrived in force, and pressured Good into handing over custody to them. Sure, he could've raised a fuss and shot one or two of them, but he would have been most certainly gunned down by the mob. It was for the best, as justice will have prevailed over the death of Joe Hicks. Sure, some folks in the Governor's office and maybe even New Orleans might be a bit mad, but the bounty hunter was going to die regardless, whether from the mob or the noose.

As the angry mob tied rocks to the woman before casting her into the river, Bobby Smith rode into town. He had been dispatched from Governor Tom Black, who presided over the Grande Eau parish. Some in his office spoke of ending bounty hunters in the parish, and in either an attempt to annoy them or calm their nerves, Governor Black hired a bounty hunter to get to the bottom of why the unnamed bounty hunted put a ten-millimeter round in the well-liked Sheriff's head. There was only two places that rented out rooms to folks in Donaldsonville, so it didn't take long for Bobby to find that the mercenary had propped up in a off-looking spot known as the Grapevine. The log book, a yellowed and bloated pre-war book, listed the bounty hunter as one Kelsey Gardner, but Smith didn't believe that for a second. Not many mercenaries didn't have an alias or an assumed name. The Governor's Office would still pay for it, so Smith tore the page out and went to the dead woman's room.

The owner of the boardinghouse was out, so Bobby shouldered the weak metal door inwards without much of a rush. Really, the owner was less of a threat than the mob when they realized the woman's belongings were up for grabs. Chems were left piled up under a crumbled jacket, and loose ten-millimeter rounds rolled across the floor along with empty liquor bottles and other trash. There was a folded up piece of paper, one side, in clear ink, was describing Sheriff Hick's whereabouts and appearance. This was a hit, not just some bounty hunting work. He flipped it. On the other side, was a handwritten receipt from one Goodman Saloon in the northern areas of Baton Rogue. It wasn't much to go on, but he may be able to use this to track down her employer. As soon as he collects his first payment, of course.

[The Empire of Tau]

The Union Response

With the news of the proclaimed Republic of Virginia, the local Blacksburg Militia force (made up of 100 individuals), not apart of the official Union Army, under the leadership of the retired Union Major Johnson Black, marches his forces towards the city of Roanoke. Arriving at noon, the Blacksburg Militia force surrounds Roanoke, forming a blockade to stop the revolting elements from spreading. Down further south, in the city of Greensboro, the garrison force (15th Union Rifle Regiment, made of 700 Union Army and 300 Union Guard soldiers) under the leadership of Union Colonel Jack Soul, mobilizes to crack down on the so-called Republic of Virginia. Readying their supplies and gear, the 15th Union Rifle Regiment marches onward toward the city of Roanoke.

While the Republic of Virginia is being taken care of, the Union Government has authorized the spending of the famous 1st Cavalry Battalion (made of up 350 horsemen who can accurately shoot while at full gallop) under the leadership of renowned Union Colonel Ivan Stevenson, to aid the Regulator’s fight against the New Regulator. Within a week, the Battalion shall reach the I-64 Checkpoint West.

In other news, in the city of Columbia, the old pre-war recycling center that lays in ruins is getting a makeover as engineers and craftsmen being to prepare to repair the facility. The restoration of such facility would greatly provide the city, the Steel Giant, in its quest of being the sole industrial might in the U.S. With that quest in mind, the labors, engineers and craftsmen start their work. Day and night passes as new supply come in to feed the ongoing site.

[The Traansval]

Daytona Beach

The Admiral gave a gruff expression to the Gulf diplomat before him. He put down the fork he was using to eat the plate of grilled trout before him. It was almost comfort food to him, many a naval expedition was sustained off hasty meals of the local seafood, and this grilled trout was better than any salted cod he had had to endure. Ensign Billy was by a campfire in the distance, talking with some of the Gulf enlisted men about the things Enlistedmen talk about, eating shrimp gumbo and drinking a fine scotch from back home in Norfolk.

"Its very nice to meet you sir, i'm told you are a representative of your Government here. The Gulf Commonwealth is what i'm told its called by the good Mayor here, very pre-war. I hail from Virginia, the State of Norfolk. We saw fit to bring order to the wasteland by following strict military disciplines, and so far we have built a prosperous society on trade, with a navy to protect it. I have been sent south along with other ships to invite foreign dignitaries to a Summit to be held in Norfolk, to discuss our shared trade on the Atlantic, and our shared goals on Independence from the other major forces of the Wastes."

The Admiral took a sip of a fine Norfolk wine he'd present the Mayor with, offering some to the diplomat.

"As a Representative of Norfolk, i'd like to extend an invitation to your leader or his Representative to join us on the NSS Chesapeake for a voyage to Norfolk. He may bring anyone he wishes, of course, we've enough space with our skeleton crew. I'd also like to request that we be able to purchase provisions, the voyage has been long and our stores ran out back off the Georgia coast."

---

Wellingtonne

General Hamish leapt from the small rowboat up onto the dock, his marines joining him while the crew tied them to the pier, Captain Joyce overseeing. He grasped the Officers leather clad hand in his, shaking it while offering the man a salute.

"Well, its very nice to meet you Officer 9823; good to hear that Norfolks reputation extends this far south. Those guns gave us a fright as we got closer, could barely see em until we got close. Here, i bring a peace offering, its a fine wine from my families estate in Virginia Beach along with some fine Virginia Tobacco."

The General offered the small bundle to the man, a smile on his face.

"So, where might be this Honorable Elector? I have very pressing this to discuss."

---

Norfolk Harbor

The cargo freighter sat silent, ominous in the port of Norfolk. It had arrived with no crew, just cargo. No one knew what the cargo was though, as no one would step foot on it. Just a day after it had arrived, multiple families had fallen ill with a Plague of sorts that no Norfolk doctor could diagnose. It had caused a mass panic, and so the Government had shut down the area around the port with a Military Guard.

General Alexander Wells looked down at the ship from the Port Authority Building. He was Military Governor of the Capital City, and he didn't like this problem on his hands. Some urged that he keep it, its cargo might be valuable. But in his eyes, it was too much trouble, too great a cost. He turned to his assistant, his second in command, Lieutenant Colonel James Alberts.

"Tug it out into the middle of the Chesapeake, and Burn it."

---

Suffolk

Sergeant Al J. Chest, known as Chesty to his friends, suddenly had no friends. They were dead, his brothers in arms now lay dead on the pavement of Suffolk city. Right next to countless bodies of citizen militiamen that had been raised to oppose Norfolk. These were Fathers, Mothers, Brothers and Sisters. Farmers, Traders, Artisans and Magistrates. All of them had taken up arms to defend Suffolk, and had been cut down by Norfolks mighty army.

It had started two days ago. While high command was getting ready for the Invasion of Hampton, the 1st Infantry Regiment was being readied in the city of Chesapeake. They'd been provided countless horse carts and brahmin trains, and then after the peace treaty was signed they moved out along Highway 58. Along the way, they planted the Norfolk Banner and strong armed local settlements into joining under the banner. Finally, they reached Suffolk.

They started with a ultimatum, which was rejected. Soon though, the citizens were hit with a startling realization; the Regulators weren't coming, the Peace Treaty ensured that. Mortars began to pummel the city, while the Regiment dug a hasty battle line, encircling the small city state. Then they charged, clashing with the local citizen militias which had been put together to defend the town. Men and women from all walks of life grabbed whatever guns they had and went to the streets to defend their own, but it was not enough.

It lasted three hours, three hours of fighting. Three hours of rooting through every cellar and alley, bringing the defenders out and executing them in the streets without mercy. Those who surrendered were allowed to live as long as they swore loyalty to Norfolk, and a military governor was installed in the city.

Suffolk fell to Norfolk, opening the door for the rest of Virginia.

[The Manticoran Empire]

The Outskirts of West Memphis,Tennesee
A small group of raiders watched carefully the city in the distance. Using binoculars, they took notes of guards, turrets, anything that could be useful that was in the settlement.The Tsar had ordered to prepare a attack against West Memphis,an settlement on the borders of the Dixie Republic, as it was certain to have great loot for the band.
The Cossacks, as the scouts in the tsardom were called, had finished taking notes. They mounted their horses and rode away in the wasteland, heading for the outpost of Forrest City, where the raider forces awaited for their return
On the same night
At the middle of the night, covered by the cloak of darkness and equipped with Nocturne Gear, the Tsarist Engineers sneaked their way to the Dixie walls, planting dynamite charges and retreating to their hiding spots to wait until dawn.
Some Hours later, as the light started to appear, the Raider Force of around 250, who was in a nearby position, began to make their way to the settlement, taking care to not alert the settlement's guards.They were to wait for the dynamite to be activated and quickly charge into the settlement, in a attempt to avoid reinforcements from Memphis to turn the raid into a bloody battle.

A Short Time later
The Tsarist raiders were in position, and the engineers ready to activate the bombs.
There was silence as the raiders awaited...And then it started.The bombs were primed, causing the dynamites to explode, killing a few guards in the process.Almost immediately, the tsarist raiders emerged, charging upon the settlement while shouting "In The Name Of The Tsar!", firing at guards in the walls and, well, anyone that wasn't a raider.
They didn't Have much time.They had to be quick.

West Memphis
Republic of Washington
Dawn
The explosions ripped through the settlement, shaking awake the 40-odd militia that lived there. They didn't need orders. They could hear the gunfire. With the outer wall breached, their job now was a delaying action as the civilians made their way to the center. The center of the town used to be a shopping center. Now it was their Alamo. The locals were already running that way. The militia themselves took positions by building corners or in ground floor windows, conducting a fighting withdrawal to the "Alamo". They were far outnumbered, their only support coming from about 400 locals with an assortment of small arms. This wasn't their first rodeo. They'd fended off militia before. Never an attack of this strength or sophistication, but that didn't matter. The townsfolk knew what to do and the militia did, as well. Their commander, Sergeant Christopher Miller, grabbed one of his men and said, "Private, I want you to grab a horse. Ride hard for Memphis. Tell them that we are under attack and that they should head this way with all haste. The wall has been breached." The boy nodded and ran for the stables. Miller took a quick shot at one of the raiders and watched as his head exploded next to a wall, painting the wall behind him red with viscera.

The staccato rhythm of the M1s mixed with the chatter of the raider's own weapons. Occasionally a machine gun was heard, chattering above the others. The militia slowly pulled back, forcing the raiders to pay in blood for each building. As they neared the walls of the Alamo, the M1s were drowned out by gunfire from above. The battle had been going on for about a half an hour as the last of the militia retreated behind the walls of the Alamo. Miller took a quick headcount. 35. He had sent one off to warn Memphis, so that made 36. He'd had 47. He cursed silently. Eleven dead. No time to mourn. "GET ON THE WALLS! THOSE FUCKERS DON'T GET IN HERE, DO YOU HEAR! THEY DO NOT FUCKING GET IN! WE'RE GONNA SHOW THOSE FUCKS THAT THEY MESSED WITH THE WRONG FUCKING TOWN!"

Memphis
Republic of Washington
45 minutes after dawn
Private Fred Collins galloped into Memphis screaming at the top of his lungs, "RALLY THE MILITIA! RAIDERS BREACHED THE WALLS IN WEST MEMPHIS! TO ARMS! TO ARMS!" He knew which building he had to get to. Before the war, it had been a museum dedicated to the fight for civil rights in America. Today it was the headquarters of the Memphis Militia, a force with three battalions, fully equipped and ready to go. It took him mere minutes to reach the building after entering the town. He didn't even wait for his horse to stop before leaping off and bolting up the stairs. "TO ARMS!" he continued to call, "TO ARMS!" He bolted into the building, running straight for the desk in the center of the room. He slid to a stop and saluted the officer at the table. "Sir, Private Collins, West Memphis Militia. Raiders have breached the walls. Sergeant Miller has withdrawn to the Alamo. He requires urgent assistance." The officer looked at him for a second and then pushed the talk button on his mike. "NOW HEAR THIS, NOW HEAR THIS," he said.

The message echoed across Memphis, radiating from every lightpost, street sign, and place of business. Every radio carried it, as well. "NOW HEAR THIS! ALL MEMBERS OF THE MEMPHIS MILITIA ARE TO REPORT TO THEIR COMMANDING OFFICERS IMMEDIATELY! A LARGE FORCE OF RAIDERS IS ATTACKING WEST MEMPHIS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I SAY AGAIN THIS IS NOT A DRILL!" Across the town, men rushed to their barracks, returning from their weekend liberty faster than they had left. They grabbed their rifles, kit, and heavy weapons, hopping onto wagons before heading for Headquarters.

It took nearly three hours for the men to be gathered but at last they were. Colonel Timothy Ramos turned to Collins and said, "Alright, here's what you're going to do. You will ride ahead with the cavalry. There are two squadrons here. You will not trot. You will ride HARD for West Memphis. We have wasted too much time as it is. If the God's favor us, then Sergeant Miller will still be alive. Now move it, boy. We're leaving now."

[Northern Poland]

TetherDown, ROB
40 Militiamen, led By Colonel Edward would prepare to march to Fort morgan, and to capture it. They would take 2 brahmin carts with them, and the Colonel Would have Salvaged Power armor and A Laser Rifle. They set out, and encounter a small town at Nelson Cottages. They preach unity, Peace, and prosperity. The townsfolk agree, and the Colonel leaves 9 Soldiers to train militia. The Town had 30 Militiamen, but they started to train 15 more. They set off again, and then a small skirmish erupted. -Character View- Sergeant Richard would walk with the men, then he heard Laser fire. A Private next to him fell to the ground, and everyone bolted for cover, or opened fire. the Colonel would open fire with his laser rifle, killing a Raider. Then another raider fired a rocket, killing 3 Men. Richard ordered his squad to move forward, as he opened fire with his MG4, killing 1 Raider. The raiders moved forward, and then he got better sight of them, and he opened fire with all he had. He killed 2 raiders, and wounded 1. They then grabbed a grenade launcher, firing it at the raiders. they killed 2, and Mortally wounded the leader. They broke and ran, the Militia picking off one. They moved forward again, looting a Military truck, finding some ammunition.

Fort Morgan, AL
They would reach the outer wall, and see it had about 30 ghouls inside. They get on top of the wall, and open fire, with 4 MG4s ripping into the horde, and 4 where sleeping on the stairs, surprising the team. They killed 5 Militiamen before being killed. They turned back to the large horde, killing 2 Ghouls. The Colonel would raise his laser rifle, blasting 3 Ghouls to ash. They got to the team, killing 3 more militia. The team threw 5 grenades, blasting 5 ghouls. The MG4 would rip into the crowd, killing 2 ghouls. 5 Militia would switch to Spas-12s and jump down, covered by the MG. They blasted 2 ghouls, while losing 1 guy to a ghoul. They moved back, and set down 2 mines. It killed 3 ghouls, and wounding one of their own. The Colonel would blast 1 ghoul, and would move back. they would switch to sidearms, gunning down 2 Ghouls with M1911s. The Sniper would raise her rifle, and would blast off a ghoul's head. They killed the remaining 4, losing 1 man. They looted the bodies, then started to search the base. They Lost 10 Militiamen, and killed all 30 ghouls, 3 Ghouls for 1 Militaman. They go into the storage, finding a Howitzer and 30 shells. The radioman calls homebase saying, "Requesting the Navy and the new fishing boats to bring 20 Coast Guard to Operate the base, we have a new fort." They also find some weapons, but not much else.

[Absolon-7]

San Antonio City Hall

Nathaniel Starbuck was not a happy man today. He preferred easing himself into to the day with first a little comforting time with his wife, then a nice morning coffee and breakfast, and then pass by everyone giving them a cheerful "hello" in city hall on the way to his office. What he didn't want was to awoken at 6:00 in the morning by his secretary about some ghoul attack in the north. He sat on his wheeled chair waiting for his Cabinet to arrive because apparently there were other things that needed his full attention. Once everyone arrived the Minister of Security was the first to speak up.

"Well sir, we received a message from Captain Beauregard that there was large ghoul attack on a isolated farm in the north. It was completely exterminated but we should organize more patrols."

"If it's exterminated then what's the point worrying. Our boys in grey can handle themselves. Send the farmer a small stipend to pay for repairs then. What's next?" Starbuck asked in frustration.

"Well, a trader gave us information on where that Nuka-Breakers lair is. Just down the 35 in old Dilley most likely," responded the Minister of Security, "If the information is correct there's around 170 of them."

"Finally, I've been getting real tired of their shit. Send the 1st and 5th squadrons and the 2nd and 5th Ranger Companies to deal with them," barked the despot.

"That's quite overkill don't you think sir? " sheepishly responded the Minister of Security.

"That's the point Alphonse! I'm not going to tolerate some dipshits thieving from my land!," yelled Starbuck. "Next."

The next man to speak up was a well dressed man with a monster of a mustache-beard combo who was the Minister of Diplomacy. "Sire, the tripartite alliance of Pipe Creek, Spring Branch, and Canyon Lake, would be willing to be annexed if we destroyed the Lakelurk nest threatening Canyon Lake. If they're willing to be annexed then it must certainly be a nasty infestation. Additionally, in order, they have populations of 552, 250, and 1,276. If last years census was correct then it'll bring our population up to 154,857. Quite the nice addition if I say so myself."

"Canyon Lake is heavily fortified...So it will secure our northern border. Very well, send Captain Beauregard and the 1st Ranger Company to deal with the Lakelurks." Starbuck inquisitively said, "Anything else?"

"My liege," said the magistrate nervously grooming his chest-high beard, "Myself and the other magistrates have concluded by ourselves that it would be best if we established ties with our neighbors. Specifically the Commonwealth of Texas. Since it's literally next door."

"Well that settles it. Dismissed!," barked Starbuck before facing the Minister of Diplomacy, "Tell me every piece information we have on this Commonwealth. I need to write a letter. And get a pony rider ready by the city gate. I want them ready to leave as soon as the ink is dry and the letter sealed!"

Literally 15 minutes later

"Alright boy go the nearest town the Commonwealth controls and give them this letter. Ask for whoever's in charge. Giddy up!" shouted Starbuck handing over the letter to the post boy and slapping the pony's rear. The pony bucked and left galoping into the horizon not knowing it would change the face of Texas and maybe even the entire Wasteland.

Esteemed, Mr. President

I believe it is time for our peoples to open up to each other and see what happens. I son't want to put any pressure on you so I don't have any serious demands only a desire for some trade. My main offer is a steady supply of beef but we can talk specifics later. We can meet at a neutral halfway point between our lands to discuss more or the settlement the messenger who sent this you arrived at. Whatever suits you best.

Sincerely, Nathaniel Starbuck, Despot of San Antonio and King of the Ranchers

P.S. Treat the messenger kindly. I'm sure the boy had a tough time getting this to you.

[Northern Poland]

Republican Shipbuilding, ROB
A group of 10 Engineers and Construction workers plan a Steel PT Boat. The Armaments would be: 3 MG4s, 2 Oerlikon 20 mm cannons, Crew of 20, Radio room, Nav room, and 120 Knots engine. They would order the construction to start, with 200 Construction workers beginning construction. They would schedule it to take 3 weeks, and it would be the Largest vessel in the navy. They would draft another 90 Construction workers, and would reel in any materials for the PT boat.

[New Minahasa]

Tupelo, Northern Mississipi

"Shit, these shitheads just won't give up, will they? And why the fuck is there a penis there on the table?" Miller shouted to his boys, pointing at the old vibrator. The shootout had been going on for a while now, and the sun was disappearing. The raiders had been holed up in abandoned buildings and stores, taking potshots and exchanging fire with the militia. What worried them the most were the machine guns. That could tear them up in pieces if they ever left their cover, and some foolhardy rookies actually caught those rounds. Two dozen raiders laid dead, mostly on the streets. Those unfortunate ones who didn't find enough time to take cover, or weren't sober enough to figure what's cover and what's a street lamp. Angel came up out of nowhere behind Miller and smacked his head so hard, they thought it was a well-placed shot.

"What did I tell about luring them out? Fucking hell, now look where we at." Angel said, setting down her light machine gun on the ground.

"I know, I know. Twasn't my fault though! The guards didn't take the bait. Looks like they got a lot more men than we anticipated. Shit, at least we got some solid cover here. If they ever try to sally out, we'll cut them down real easy." Miller replied, still taking shots here and there at the guards. He's almost ran out of ammo for his hunting rifle, and soon he'd have to switch up to his .357 magnum.

"That's not what I'm worried about, you idiot. They prolly would've called in for reinforcement right now. Shit, a border patrol could be here any second and flank our ass, too. Barnes! Go take Ramsay and some other guys with you and cover our flank. Scout the whole place up, see if there's more fuckheads comin our way. Get on the rooftops if you can, too. If you see em comin, run as fast as you fucking can back over here and report to us. And tell Ramsay to fetch the M2 Browning from our camp. We got Dick and his men guarding the place, let's fucking hope they're still alive, else we would've lost a lot of good loot. Matter of fact, tell him to go for the gate with like ten boys, fuck it. We need as much people as we can right now. And if reinforccements are coming, I want Ramsay on a rooftop somewhere and catch those motherfuckers off guard, got it?"

"You got it, Angel!" Barnes nudged Ramsay and made their way out of the ruined restaurant.

"All right, now here's what we're gonna do." Angel cleared hear throat. "We've wasted too much fucking time being holed up like this. Let's make yourself fucking valuable for once, aight? Round up most of the men and head for the gate. Get as much attention as you can out of those faggots, catch my drift? And get Rudy and his boys over to me. We'll need to get some bombing action going."

"Right away, Angel." Miller clutched on his hunting rifle and took off. He'd start gathering whatever men he could find holed up in the buildings and led them to the gate. "All fucking righty, you maggots! It's time for us to actually breach this fucking gate, hear me? I've had enough of these cats hurting my precious ears with their noisy ass machine guns. Oh, and Rudy, Angel said to holler at her! She's east from here. Just look for a place that has a purple dick on a table. Can't miss it." Miller rounded up all of his men, and Rudy took his own to head over to Angel's location.

"Angel, we're here. What's the deal? The whole action's taking place over by the gate, what the fuck are we doing here?" Rudy protested. He had a force of about twenty men following him. "You got your boys? Good. There's still a few guards here and there. I need some of you to catch their attention, and then one or two y'all gonna set up some explosives on the wall. Got me? We gotta breach some holes though. Can't just make one. Make these fuckers confused. Tell one of your trusted men to get nine of your boys and head north, and set up more explosives there. You got them, right? Tell me you didn't waste them all." Angel locked eye-contact with him, her eyes dead serious.

"We're good, we're good. We left half of our C4s back at camp, OK, but we still have the other half. I guess it's gonna be enough to make a few holes here and there, don't expect much though." Rudy replied.

"That's good enough. Now, let's get going." Rudy turned his head around and ordered one of his henchmen to head north, along with him nine extra men. The plans were set. It took them a while, and some casualties on Rudy's men as well, but they finally got all the explosives lined up. With a single push of the button, the holes were made. Some didn't set off, as expected, but those that did were enough to catch the attention of the defenders and confuse them. "Now, go, go, go!" With a single order, Angel, Rudy, and fourteen men left in their company rushed to one of the holes, making their way into the town.

Miller heard the explosives going off as well, and told his own men over at the gate to charge. "Go, fucking go! Get those explosives on the gates and walls, we need to breach this whole dang place up! Get those fucking machine gunners, too!" The men rushed, some throwing grenades over the walls, especially over the machine gunners' positions, while others went to plant the explosives with their comrades covering their assault from cover, and then retreating back after having said explosives planted.

[The Manticoran Empire]

Tupelo, Northern Mississipi

"Shit, these shitheads just won't give up, will they? And why the fuck is there a penis there on the table?" Miller shouted to his boys, pointing at the old vibrator. The shootout had been going on for a while now, and the sun was disappearing. The raiders had been holed up in abandoned buildings and stores, taking potshots and exchanging fire with the militia. What worried them the most were the machine guns. That could tear them up in pieces if they ever left their cover, and some foolhardy rookies actually caught those rounds. A dozen raiders laid dead, mostly on the streets. Those unfortunate ones who didn't find enough time to take cover, or weren't sober enough to figure what's cover and what's a street lamp. Angel came up out of nowhere behind Miller and smacked his head so hard, they thought it was a well-placed shot.

"What did I tell about luring them out? Fucking hell, now look where we at." Angel said, setting down her light machine gun on the ground.

"I know, I know. Twasn't my fault though! The guards didn't take the bait. Looks like they got a lot more men than we anticipated. Shit, at least we got some solid cover here. If they ever try to sally out, we'll cut them down real easy." Miller replied, still taking shots here and there at the guards. He's almost ran out of ammo for his hunting rifle, and soon he'd have to switch up to his .357 magnum.

"That's not what I'm worried about, you idiot. They prolly would've called in for reinforcement right now. Shit, a border patrol could be here any second and flank our ass, too. Barnes! Go take Ramsay and some other guys with you and cover our flank. Scout the whole place up, see if there's more fuckheads comin our way. Get on the rooftops if you can, too. If you see em comin, run as fast as you fucking can back over here and report to us. And tell Ramsay to fetch the M2 Browning from our camp. We got Dick and his men guarding the place, let's fucking hope they're still alive, else we would've lost a lot of good loot. Matter of fact, tell him to go for the gate with like ten boys, fuck it. We need as much people as we can right now. And if reinforccements are coming, I want Ramsay on a rooftop somewhere and catch those motherfuckers off guard, got it?"

"You got it, Angel!" Barnes nudged Ramsay and made their way out of the ruined restaurant.

"All right, now here's what we're gonna do." Angel cleared hear throat. "We've wasted too much fucking time being holed up like this. Let's make yourself fucking valuable for once, aight? Round up most of the men and head for the gate. Get as much attention as you can out of those faggots, catch my drift? And get Rudy and his boys over to me. We'll need to get some bombing action going."

"Right away, Angel." Miller clutched on his hunting rifle and took off. He'd start gathering whatever men he could find holed up in the buildings and led them to the gate. "All fucking righty, you maggots! It's time for us to actually breach this fucking gate, hear me? I've had enough of these cats hurting my precious ears with their noisy ass machine guns. Oh, and Rudy, Angel said to holler at her! She's east from here. Just look for a place that has a purple dick on a table. Can't miss it." Miller rounded up all of his men, and Rudy took his own to head over to Angel's location.

"Angel, we're here. What's the deal? The whole action's taking place over by the gate, what the fuck are we doing here?" Rudy protested. He had a force of about twenty men following him. "You got your boys? Good. There's still a few guards here and there. I need some of you to catch their attention, and then one or two y'all gonna set up some explosives on the wall. Got me? We gotta breach some holes though. Can't just make one. Make these fuckers confused. Tell one of your trusted men to get nine of your boys and head north, and set up more explosives there. You got them, right? Tell me you didn't waste them all." Angel locked eye-contact with him, her eyes dead serious.

"We're good, we're good. We left half of our C4s back at camp, OK, but we still have the other half. I guess it's gonna be enough to make a few holes here and there, don't expect much though." Rudy replied.

"That's good enough. Now, let's get going." Rudy turned his head around and ordered one of his henchmen to head north, along with him nine extra men. The plans were set. It took them a while, and some casualties on Rudy's men as well, but they finally got all the explosives lined up. With a single push of the button, the holes were made. Some didn't set off, as expected, but those that did were enough to catch the attention of the defenders and confuse them. "Now, go, go, go!" With a single order, Angel, Rudy, and fourteen men left in their company rushed to one of the holes, making their way into the town.

Miller heard the explosives going off as well, and told his own men over at the gate to charge. "Go, fucking go! Get those explosives on the gates and walls, we need to breach this whole dang place up! Get those fucking machine gunners, too!" The men rushed, some throwing grenades over the walls, especially over the machine gunners' positions, while others went to plant the explosives with their comrades covering their assault from cover, and then retreating back after having said explosives planted.

Tupelo
Republic of Washington
Sergeant Obson was starting to worry. The light was failing and his men were running short of ammunition. What they had might last them until nightfall, if they were lucky. As the sun began to slip under the horizon, he saw several raiders rush out from their cover, being quickly met with rifle and machine gun fire. Several of the raiders dropped. Not enough. They tossed satchels against the wall. Obson knew what they were. "MOVE! GET CLEAR OF THE GATE!" He lept from the wall as the bomb detonated.

The explosions tore the gate apart, as well as ripping open several more holes in other parts of the gate. The townsfolk were startled but the militia knew what it meant. "ALAMO!" one of the screamed. "BACK TO THE ALAMO!" The militia started a fighting withdrawal to the Alamo, a walled area behind the Elementary school. Several of the townsfolk were already there and they were firing from slits in the walls. The militia leap-frogged back, squeezing off aimed fire at the raiders as they went. Nobody had seen Obson but nobody really cared right now. All that mattered was getting into the Alamo and holding for a while longer. As the last of the militia entered the Alamo and sealed the gate, a trumpet blasted.

Captain Flores could see the bombs go off. Fuck!, he thought. "FIRST CAVALRY! SHOW THESE FUCKS WE MEAN BUSINESS! FLYING WEDGE!" The troopers formed into wedges, with five men in each. "SOUND THE CHARGE!" The bugler, seated next to Flores, lifted his instrument to his lips and blew the signal. The squadron kicked their mounts, urging them to a gallop. They drew their side arms as they charged ahead. The plan was simple. Force the raiders away from the gaps. After that, three troops, about thirty men, would enter the town and assist the militia. The remaining troops would drive off the surviving raiders.

The militia saw the pennants flying in the wind. "IT'S THE ARMY!" someone cried out. "THE CAVALRY IS HERE!" another shouted. The words brought a unanimous cheer from the beleaguered defenders and their spirits soared. The day didn't seem so dark, now, and they poured on the fire, gunning down any raider that was unfortunate enough to enter their sights. The Cavalry swooped in from the north, driving down from Highway 45 towards the Raiders on the Western Wall. Their guns popped as they rode, dropping raiders. Those raiders they missed were trampled beneath the hooves of their steeds. As they wheeled around at the end of their charge, the designated troopers dismounted and moved into the town, fighting their way in through the raiders. The others split up into their wings, driving wedges into the raiders with pistol and saber. "DEATH TO THE MURDERERS!" they called as they drove on. "DEATH TO THE MURDERERS!"

[Northern Poland]

-Voided-