Fallout: South the Mason [IC Thread]

by **Absolon-7** » Tue Apr 03, 2018 8:50 pm

Gonzalez pop 782, Early April

The same prairie grass moved with the wind as it did the same way last month. The same sun shined down at the same longhorns munching in the same damn pastures. Colonel Herbert sighed looking at the ranch rocking back and forth in his chair. The annexation of the Gonzales confederation had went incredibly smoothly the past month. Not a single drop of blood had been spent. This "Raindrop War", called so because it made San Antonio shaped like a raindrop was over as soon as his battalion reached Gonzales. Seeing how outmatched the ragtag militia was compared to the hardened Texas Rangers of San Antonio the Council that ran the confederation capitulated after brief deliberation amongst themselves. He had been given permission by Despot Starbuck to negotiate and sign a treaty on his liege's behalf because he was busy with some water tycoon scandal. The Gonzales Confederation had twice the settlements as Marcos but it barely had half the population cause of how sparsely populated it was. Collectively all the villages had 3,904 citizen according to their last census which wasn't that bad and it made it now the 2nd least populated province.

According to treaty he had composed, all their territory would be handed over and they would elect one of their own as a governor. Additionally, no previous political leader in any village or town could ever hole political office again. Finally considering their population, their province would provide 39 recruits who would all go to the 9th Ranger Company so once their training was complete it would now be a full-sized company. This was good and all but now that he had to spend time garrisoning the town, it made the victory sour in his mouth.

"Gosh darn city-folk. Why couldn't let me and my boys have a couple of rounds against their militia. Would'a showed them..." he sighed longingly. All that was left was getting black out drunk on his office's porch.

San Antonio City Hall

The pictures taken by the trader were sent to the local newspaper and New Braunfels so copies could be made and spread around the nation. The Minister of Security had suggested that while it may be a far off threat they may never see it would be useful to exploit this "Caesar's Legion" to pacify the newly annexed territories so they'd see that they legitimately believe they would be protected. They just had to wait for enough copies to be made before the pamphlet was to circulate.

Unfortunately this carefree exploitation of fear wouldn't last forever. Some messengers from a far off land came bearing dire news. They warned them of the Legion atrocities along with their presence and the army they've assembled. A army that was at most 15,000 thousand strong force was almost too nightmarishly big to be believed. Not even during the Great Raider War did such a large force threaten San Antonio.
But it was a threat worth slaying. If this Legion was intent on laying hands on the bountiful fields of San Antonio then it will have to pay the ultimate price for it. Their neighbor, the NCT, would also have to be notified since the Cabinet doubted the Legion would just stop at their fair city. For now business and running the city would have to go on as usual. The Legion could wait but they would be ready.

The messengers were given full accommodations while they stayed relaying the information they were in charge of spreading. Once San Antonio was told what it needed to know they were sent on their way to wherever their next destination was with full rations. They were also given a message to take back to their leaders to let them know that the Despotate would be willing to fully negotiate and even offer extensive military cooperation would also be provided if necessary but that more details would be needed in order to make a plan of action.

Lakehills, pop 309

Nathaniel Starbuck's was not a pleased man today. A few days ago City Hall had received a message from the Sheriff of Lakhills pleading them to finally intervene in a conflict they had with some wealthy business man named Alexander Fairwell. The name by itself pissed him off immensely. He had decided to make an unannounced visit to the entrepreneur to set things straight. This Mr. Fairwell had nearly doubled the tax revenue of the local farms but crop yield had been halved. Starbuck liked more money but agriculture was the heart and soul of San Antonio. He and his guard met the sheriff who was waiting for them at the town's entrance and the man seemed ready to blow a fuse. Starbuck assured him that he would handle the situation and that the local settlements would get their free water back. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Starbuck and his entourage walked to Fairwell's estate and after the butler realized who had come he was immediately let in. Fairwell was called in to the living room and was shocked that the Despot himself had come. Starbuck greeted him and introduced the reason for his arrival.

"See here I have the paperwork that you will sign that will hand over the lake as public property," Starbuck asked pulling out several forms from his briefcase.

"And why in Sam's hell would I do that? I'm making these damn mud farms more profitable then they ever have been aren't I!"

"Well yes, but people around are having less to eat for themselves and that's just something that does sit right with me Mr. Fairwell"

Looking even more frustrated, Fairwell excused himself to retrieve something. After a short while he came back with a very large chest carried by two servants which was placed on the coffee table in front of Starbuck' entourage. He carefully opened to reveal it filled to the brim with caps. " Now I have already shared my generosity with some of the fellow officials I'm thinking why shouldn't my liege as well proper?"

"Are you trying to bribe me Mr. Fairwell?", Starbuck shot back with a wary look in his eye.

"Don't think of it as a bribe. More of a royal tribute." Mr. Fairwell disgustingly said.

"Do you really think mere pocket change would be enough to sway my mind, Mr Fairwell. The Starbuck Treasury could easily buy all of your property several times over and still have more to spare. Now am I going to have to set up an impromptu gallows right in the town square or will you sign this contract and give away the entire lake?" Satrbuck daringly countered.

After some grumbling Mr. Fairwell signed the contract while nervously rubbing his neck. Some pleasantries afterwards, Starbuck and his entourage bid adieu to Mr. Fairwell and the Sheriff. The new state of the lake would be announced the morning after by the sheriff. The Texas Rangers stayed behind to help the sheriff arrest all of the compliant officials. Starbuck's carriage left at a relaxed pace. He could take his time. Besides the long wait would just make his wife all the more eager to see him once he returned.

by **Elerian** » Tue Apr 03, 2018 10:08 pm

Parcia wrote:-Snip-

It was an impressive display, Ahab had to admit, but an unwise one. He’d been briefed about the unexpected visit that the Keys raiders were paying the Commonwealth. And they were a sight to behold. It was a curious occasion, diplomats being here in the Commonwealth. There were of course traders from the unruly Keys that came in boats, but never had any diplomats come to the Gulf Commonwealth. It was more typical that the Clan came trying to take anything of value that wasn’t nailed down. Ahab supposed that there was a first for everything though.

“Greetings Gentlemen, may I be the first to give you the warmest welcome to our shores.”

Of course Ahab was being flippant, there was no love lost between the Commonwealth and the Clan. And today, on the pristine beaches of the Floridian coast, the lack of trust was evident. Port Canaveral was a veritable fortress in its own right, and being the home of the Commonwealth’s military shipyards, it was awash with defenses. Two Naval gun emplacements and nearly three dozen Regulars watched the Clan envoy closely. Even if they said they were here to talk, certain precautions had to be taken. Though, the canons were angled away from the ships, and none of the soldiers brandished their weapons openly.

* * *

Ralnis wrote:-Snip-

“So Commie, say ya piece.”

The Agent smiled at this. “It was patriotism, not communism, that inspired me” the Agent mused. He had of course brought with him credentials, but those credentials had been hidden in a rather unsavory place to ensure they didn’t fall into the wrong hands. While he waited, he’d taken the liberty to retrieve the item that would confirm he was an agent of the Commonwealth. As they asked for his identity, he with with some difficulty, placed the item on the table with his hands still bound.

“I’m an Agent of the Gulf Commonwealth, and I think you men owe me an audience with your superiors.”

The Agent would say nothing else after that until someone of a significantly higher pay grade was sent to treat with him.

* * *

Theyra wrote:-Snip-

It was practically a perfect day in the typically temperamental town of Tallahassee. This ensured that the Mayor would be out riding for the day as he did whenever the weather permitted. But as was sometimes also the case, the weather changed for the worst in the matter of an hour. A Lightning storm was brewing, and the Mayor and his entourage were quick to start heading back to town. Yet, they wouldn’t be quick enough.

Just as they were entering town, the storm hit. Thunder and Lightning began to crash nearby, spooking the horses. As they approached the front of the Mayor’s office to weather the storm, a bolt of Lightning struck down the road. The Mayor’s horse reared and sent the Mayor tumbling from his horse. When he didn’t make any moves to get himself back up, his companions began yelling for help. And more specifically, a doctor.

* * *

Ashes Ashes, Part Four

The battle seemed to last an age, as battles always did, with a horde of screaming faces and in Hart's face. And then the Wildmen were running, leaving their dead scattered over the field. He looked around and figured that the platoons he’d assigned to strike the Wildmen flanks must have cut through and panicked them, putting them to flight. Hart heard, but didn’t see, the thunderous hooves of cavalry at gallop. He smiled a very self satisfied smile. Dufresne had obviously gotten into position and was dealing with the escapees.

"Havoc!"

At this word of command, his orderly platoons disintegrated as every man rushed after the fleeing Wildmen, already being chased by Dufresne’s riders. Soon, Hart knew, all the fighting men would be dead or wounded, and what women and children hadn't been incidentally slain would be rounded up so that he could address them. They would be brought back to Charleston, otherwise they would be unable to fend for themselves in the wastes. No doubt the residents of Charleston wouldn’t view them too kindly, but Hart would ensure their safety. Who knew, maybe the Commonwealth would see a reason to bring them to Florida and cilvilize them. At any rate the children could be brought up in the proper Commonwealth fashion, they were certainly impressionable at such a tender age. He shrugged to himself and began to wander up to see what was happening with his cavalry. Hopefully they'd sate their blood lust and spare some of the men, but in the end they were raiders so it wasn’t like it mattered one way or another if they lived or died.

* * *

Albany Training Grounds

Since their formation, all the Marcher Brigades that were able would meet in Albany for a yearly wargames exercise. It was typical that one or two of the Brigades would be unable to attend, and this year the Savannah Brigade was preoccupied with the Charleston affair. It was a relief to some of the commanders that Hart wouldn’t attend. But unfortunately, that meant one of the Brigades would have to draw the short straw and split to make the event even.

Upon the arrival of all the Marcher Brigades, there would be a day of rest and then the festivities would commence. A number of veteran Pathfinders would be the game masters of the wargame, assigning each Brigade to a side and then giving their commander their objective. Sometime the exercise would last for only 3 or 4 days, but more often the games would last a whole week.

The first few days typically consisted of skirmishes, probing the other side for weaknesses before the wargames began in earnest. One side would launch a daring offensive that would usually be thrown back, then the other side would counter attack. This pattern would repeat until one side had one. Scarcely a decade ago Colonel Hart, who was only a Lieutenant at the time, managed to change the name of the game.

That year, the Pathfinders had relegated one side to defending a flag while the other was supposed to take said flag. Hart convinced his superior to lead a divisionary assault on the enemy’s frontline. Once the assault had started, Hart and a platoon of his men trudged through a relatively undefended swamp to take the enemy’s flag. By the time the defenders realized what had happened, Hart and his men had already taken the flag and won the game. Since that day, Hart has remained undefeated at the wargame exercises.

Once the games are concluded, a grand feast is thrown to commemorate the games and honor that year’s winners. After that each Brigade would start the long march home, as victors or losers. For the next week or so, the wargames would rage all across the Albany countryside.

* * *

For Whom the Bell Tolls

It was one of those perfect Spring days, so common in pre-war stories, and yet so rare in the real world. The weather wasn’t too hot, and a persistent breeze blew cool relief through Pensacola. It was ideal weather for fishing out at sea, or enjoying a glass of Iced Tea. On the rolling hills beyond the town, the vegetation was beginning to come to life. The elm and plum trees were turning a vibrant green, while the shrubs encroaching on the edges of the old world highways were getting ever bolder. There were very few lingering signs that winter had ever touched Pensacola. Everything said, you couldn’t hope to have a nicer day for an execution.

“I swear I only did it for the good of the Commonwealth!” pleaded a dirty middle aged man. “If aiding my country is a crime, then I guess I’m guilty” the man stated dejectedly to the guards escorting him.

The butt of a rifle was the only reply he received from his captors.

Nearby a crowd had been assembled to watch the spectacle. Several hundred people watched as the man was dragged up a set of stairs to a raised wooden platform. Already on the platform were a series of ropes fastened around a half dozen men’s necks. The nooses swung lazily as a gust of wind came from over the hills.

At the front of the crowd stood a handful of smartly dressed men and women, representatives from Mobile. Some of them had even lost family members because of the actions of the dead men. They had been invited to stand witness to the state executions of the homegrown militia ringleaders. The rest of the men who had participated stood in the crowd, many of them would face fines and sentences of hard labor. An injustice paid for with justice.

The dead men were all linked to the rabble rouser Joshua Redding in one way or another. Though, there was no evidence he’d had any hand in the attack perpetrated against Mobile. Despite this, the authorities were certain he was in some way responsible for the attack, they just weren’t sure how. These men were merely pawns in a grander game, and they would die for their involvement.

The lever was pulled, and the deed was done, and back to work everyone went as if it had never even happened.

* * *

Building A Better Tomorrow

Months had passed since the establishment of cells in Atlanta and Columbia. Their agents had seeped into their cities like a disease, multiplying as bacteria did, slowly spreading throughout the working classes. They preyed on the distraught and desperate, of which there were many, and they had been remarkably successful.

No matter what the government agreed to do to remedy the crises that faced them, they caused irreparable damage in the minds of many. Quite a few citizens went back to their mild grumbling, but there was always the small few who had more than the flimsy attention spans of their peers. For the rest of their life, they would refuse to place their confidence in a government labelled incompetent and ineffective. They didn't care what measures Underwood or Hover and their cronies implemented; their opinions would never again be swayed in their favour. Such was the way of politics.

Those who joined the cell's ranks, owed their loyalty to the cell and its Commandant. Plans were moving ahead faster than schedule, news that had been received well by Commonwealth Intelligence. A small but specific message from Orlando and the Home Secretary spurred the original members onwards to continue with as much fervour as always.

by **The Traansval** » Tue Apr 03, 2018 10:21 pm

State of Virginia

A letter would be sent to the Union Government, thanking them for their cooperation. The refugees would cross the border into Virginian Territory, and would be taken into custody by the 3rd Infantry. They would be interred at a camp outside Elizabeth City, where each one would be reviewed by a Officer and then they would decide to bring up charges or not.

Almost every single one was charged with something, from aiding the enemy to tax evasion (Didn't matter than these people had only been required to pay Virginia taxes since yesterday). The vast majority would get off with no jail time, instead would have to pay by having their land or homes confiscated, as a fine. These would then be sold at public auction to Virginian Citizens. The rest were let back out, some would manage to get back on their feet and find work or buy some cheap land, while others would sink into poverty.

Of course, it was a better fate than the 500 men arrested on Felony Charges. These ranged from former Militia and Soldiers to members of the Elizabeth City Government. 300 would receive extended jail time upwards of 20 years, some facing life. Another 80 receive smaller jail times, between 2-10 years. The other 120? They were sentenced to Death by Firing Squad, carried out everyday for a three week period. A dozen of them would be brought before that concrete wall, and a squad of Norfolk soldiers would take aim and fire. Most of them were high ranking officials; Officers and Policy Makers. It was rumored that even the former Queens son, a Captain, was executed, although some say he was killed in the Battle for Elizabeth City while others say he escaped to some far off citystate.

Either way, by the end of the month, all of the former Refugees would be Killed, Imprisoned or integrated into the State. It was still an ongoing process, but progress was neigh.

by **Parcia** » Tue Apr 03, 2018 11:01 pm

Parlay near the cape (two weeks prior to the raid, mind you)

The three men would approach the delegate and his armed guard. They would not wear the leather armor and other war garb of his people, rather each man would wear a simple cotton shirt, dyed some random color. They were not armed, save the single, 8 inch general purpose knife all clansman carried, mostly used for gutting fish.

The two sloops maintained their guarding positions by the brig as it sat in the shallows a few hundred meters from the shore, a small row boat and a 4th man guarding to with a shotgun.

“Greetings Gentlemen, may I be the first to give you the warmest welcome to our shores.”

The lead man, a tall, dark skinned viking man with fair hair and a beard to match, spoke in a accented brone. "Greetins, Gulfmen, I am Bjorn Ragnar, Brother to Urak. I come, for once, as a man of peace."
He paused, mulling over the words from Swenka to English. "Forgive me, for I am but a few who speak the common tongue here, and I fear my knowledge is...spotty. I wish to forge a good...dialogue? that is correct work, ya?"

He smiled and pushed forward with the conversation. "I wish to create a few simple things, a trade rout, the recognition of the Clan's land, and perhaps more."

by **Theyra** » Tue Apr 03, 2018 11:41 pm

Missouri
Hidden somewhere outside of Rolla

While the rest of Army is busy with drills near Fort Scott under the pretense of preparing for a large drive to take the rest of Missouri. The 2nd Legion along with minor elements from the Auxilia were assigned to deal with the Riders that have been attacking merchants leaving Rolla. Since no one knew of where the Riders were based in the park and the captain in charge wanted to know exactly were the Riders were camped. Captain Anna Tiburs did not want the swept the Park now on the chance of the Riders would find out and relocated somewhere else. Her plan was to send out a decoy caravan and have a some of the troops hidden nearby to ambush the Riders as they attack the caravan. Tess did not trust the 2nd Legion for this part of the plan as they needed to take as many prisoners they could get, so the job goes to the Auxlila.

It was night and now Anna along with the Auxilia were waiting in their positions as the decoy caravan was moving by them. When Tess they was no sign of the Riders, she thought they would have to do this again tomorrow. Gunshots went off as Anna could see the a Rider group come in fast. Anna knew that someone the troops assigned to the decoy caravan may die but, the decoy has to be convincing. The men with the decoy took cover behind their wagons as the brahmin started to panic. Tess and the rest of the Auxilia took aim took at the Riders's horses. Once the Riders had rode close enough to the caravan to. They opened up and they managed some of the Riders's horses in the first volley. The Riders were taken by surprise by the attack as some of them crashed on the ground and that was the decoys took aim at the Riders. More horses were downed along with some Riders.

The Riders that were still on their horses tried to make a break for it as they realized they were being ambushed. However, the accurate fire of Auxilia took out the rest of the Rider's horses as they tried to flee. The now horses-less Riders fell fast as their mobility was robe from them. The Auxilia making sure to take non-lethal shots when they could. It was over soon as the troops moved in to secured the Riders that were still alive. Tess ordered the ones alive to be moved as soon as possible by the medics to Rolla. She needed to work fast on making these Riders talk as sooner or later, the rest of the Riders were realized that something happened to their raiding party.

West Virginia
Mount Pleasant

Halisca Yeoman had been fighting back his instinct to simply run back to a boat and set sail back the the Republic since seeing the first floor. The only things keeping his seeming calm exterior intact was how important his missions was. Halisca did not know how Conner reacted to this, as he seemly seem fine with this. No change of expression or anything obvious. Perhaps, Conner dealing with it like Halisca was? Freaking out internaly and keeping a calm appearance for the sake of the mission. Regardless, when Third Flame Herbert introduced himself. Halisca continued his calm facade, "Hello and I am Halisca Yeoman of the New Roman Republic". Halisca did a small bow, "the man I brought with me is my bodyguard, Conner Hybrida so you will be dealing primary with me". "Conner can you please?

Conner took the que from Halisca but, stayed in the room and stayed near the door like a stone gargoyle.

"As I sent here to do, the New Roman Republic is seeking out friendly relations with other nations". "We have heard about you though traders coming in from the Ohio River and I was sent as a representative". "The first I would talk about is trading between our people's nation". "However, things in Kentucky seem to be heating up as I traveled here". "So perhaps we should talk about others details beside trade for now". "Thought I am curious, has the your nation interacted or heard of the Republic of Tennessee?

Florida
Tallahassee

Viria was near the Mayor's office trying to find a place to stay during the strom when she heard a horse panic. She turned to see the mayor on the ground and his associates yelling for a doctor. Viria briefly hesitated before making her way to downed mayor. "I am a doctor she yelled to the group and she quickly kneel down to examine the mayor. After few moments, "He seems fine, nothing bad but, we should move him inside before the storm gets worse". As her words left her mouth, there was a loud crack as lighting stuck seemly somewhere near by. "Viria spoke with a commanding tone and looked at one of the people with the mayor, "you help me get him and we taking him inside before the storm get worse". The man simply nodded as they helped the mayor up and moved him to the Mayor's Office. Viria had the mayor moved into his office and she had him lay sit down in his chair. "I think I will stay with him for a bit, just in case he hurt something if that is already with you". Viria said to the mayor's secretary and the secretary allowed Viria to stay for the time being.

by **Greater Redosia** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 11:28 am

Charlottesville, Virginia

It has been several weeks after the battle with the New Regulators, with the tactical move to flank around by crossing the river proved essential to the victory. With the few regulators being able to go around and attack from the opposite side it caused the Charlottesville militia defending with the New Regulators to panic, some fleeing the battle and others joining the fight and shooting the New Regulators. After several more days of heavy resistance the New Regulators either surrendered, ran off, or were killed. Garner made sure that the town would be properly protected and local rule would be reinstated once more, he also began to overlook reconstruction of the town and supporting those that lost loved ones in the battle. Though violence wasn't the solution he wanted, it was the only solution he had, with this victory he knew that the other Regulators know that betraying the group wouldn't end well at all, and anything that would harm the settlements wouldn't be left unnoticed. Sadly he didn't know the troubles happening south, and there being the few in Richmond to handle it.

Council Room, Richmond

"We can't break this treaty, if we do their navy is going to destroy this city! There is nothing we can do!" Anton got off his chair and slammed his fist on the table, "I will not let these cities go and die! What was it you said Lawrence! You kept telling me that we have to protect the good from the bad! So I took it upon myself to send Regulators to these settlements and before you say anything, I made sure they wore nothing like what we Regulators wear. Anything that the state can use to identify us have been removed, if anything we would look like mercs for hire." Lawrence rolled his eyes, "Not like anyone can tell the difference anymore, we aren't what we used to be. But we sure as hell gonna try to stay with our traditions, helping the weak..." Anton walked over and patted his fellow council member on the back, "I know Lawrence, but for now we must focus on the task at hand. I've sent ten regulators to each of those settlements and began setting up the five men patrols along the highways and roads, as long as we play our cards right Norfolk won't expect a thing."

Carson, Virginia

"Hello everyone on the waves! I am The Voice of Justice, and I'm here to keep you up to date with all the news in Regulator territory. As you all know, a bunch of people went and killed a bunch of moth believing cultists, slaughtering them completely with few survivors. Damn, never thought you people were that crazy. In other news it seems that the New Regulators have been further scattered as Regulator hunting parties have been going out and eliminating them, we are also announcing a 500 cap reward for any New Regulators brought either dead or alive. Next news, no news on the patrol sent to Arlington to check up on the power armor wearing faction that has taken up shop there. So far as we know they are known as the Enclave from recent radio broadcasts picked up from faction so we will get to you back on any news from there."

Shuffling of papers can be heard and it continues, "Final news, another two workshops have been opened in Richmond to begin creation of clothing and ammunition as well as other goods that are needed. Citizens are happy with the current advancements and even some pro-regulator politicians are beginning to take form in the Regulator territories, some worry of the increasing centralization of the Regulators but many are happy with the changes of the ever growing protection the Regulators bring. As a gift for protecting them the citystate of Stony Creek has donated a group of five protectrons to the Regulators and they are currently being shipped to Richmond for reprogramming. Who knows, maybe we will get our own little Robo-cop but until then The Voice of Justice has to sign off. For now, enjoy some music of a nice old one I managed to find when scavenging, We Didn't Start the Fire by Billy Joel now being played once more."

Harry Truman, Doris Day...

by **Puertollano** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 2:39 pm

The Glow
Children of Atom

To the surprise of all: the large vehicle floated down the river, towards the Glow. Not much water was left for such sailing near the Glow, as the nuclear holocaust would have dried up all water bodies in the close vicinity. This would mean the ship would be parked outside of the main settlement and living quarters, but nevertheless frightened the natives of the Glow. The Ghoul crew of the ship seemed hospitable, rather than hostile. The Preacher who firstly made contact with them raced back to tell someone of authority; that would be Zealot Ulysses. Standing on an elevated cliff side, the Zealot Master was in a good position to speak with the crew and to reason as to why they came. They offered to work as mercenaries, basically, and that their work would need to be hired. The large ship was enticing, but what they were asking for wasn't reasonable. "800 caps, per week? You are dreaming. The Church of the Children of Atom do not trade in caps, they are ungodly and are an affront to Atom himself." This came as a surprise to the crew. It was common action to trade with caps, and they would not be hiring out their Cutter for anything less. That was it, they though. "Turn the ship around, these folks aren't trading." However that was cut short, a deadly radioactive storm passed and it would be too dangerous to sail in this weather. The Ghoul and his crew decided to stay for the night. Perhaps their worst decision yet. Ulysses prepared his unit of undying supporters, with the acceptance of the High Confessor."We have Atom on our side," Ulysses said, as the team split up, surrounding the ship. The whole crew was asleep, so far. They lined their hand-made ladders onto the side of the boat and they all began to climb up. Armed with Gamma Guns, Pipe Guns, and Grenades, Zealot Ulysses crept open the manhole, leading to the sleeping quarters. As usual, he tossed in fragmentation grenades on the sleeping bodies. After the devastating boom, the Zealots stormed in. Massacring the entire crew in a few moments flat. Now, the unpredictable Cult had the power over a Cutter, one of the most powerful vehicles in the entire South. What could go wrong.

Finally, the Runner and the High-Tech Ghouls from Stuttgart returned from their perilous journey. Their people were accepted with a parade, and a personal meeting with the High Confessor. Their technology was powerful, and useful. Laser, Plasma weapons. Zealot Ulysses confiscated them upon arrival, claiming that they will no longer need them, because "in the Glow, Atom gives you all of the protection you need." Those weapons were then re-distributed among the Zealot Forces. In recent times, the "military" wing of the Church had grown especially powerful. All that they need is somewhere to demonstrate their power in full force.

by **The Manticoran Empire** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 6:29 pm

Kentucky
The conflict had been mostly uneventful for the last month. The forces in Kentucky had reached a total of 8,000 men. It had become clear that the Horsemen were not interested in peace. As such, the Army had decided on a plan of action. The regiments had each received a number of new weapons, largely 81mm mortars in larger numbers. These weapons would be used to attack the major settlements. It was clear from defecting Kentuckyians that most of the region was rather open to the Republic annexing them. The largest settlements, however, had gotten used to being the biggest fish in their pond and were none too happy with a bigger fish showing up. As such, they bullied many smaller settlements into providing troops. It seemed logical that, if these larger settlements were threatened and captured, the Pact would largely collapse. The force would divide into two wings. The first would march on Bowling Green with 4,000 men. The second would march on Madisonville with another 4,000 men. The settlements would be given ONE opportunity to surrender. Accept and they would not be penalized for their actions against the Republic. Their people would be safe, their soldiers returned home unharmed, and their lands left intact. Refuse and their settlements would be taken by force.

The commanders were informed of the reorganization plans that would effect the units in the peaceful parts of the Republic first and would slowly be put into effect in the combat units to avoid confusion as much as possible. These new formations would be much larger, with almost 3,600 men in three battalions and would possess massive collections of mortars and grenade launchers. There were also rumors of new small arms. As it happened, there were enough troops up north that two of these new regiments could be formed, called the First and Second. These names were only official on paper, since there were a number of regiments currently in those areas and not the planned formations. The first true regiment would be the Third, formed in Memphis. There, the requisite troops would be retrained over the next six months and equipped. They would then be sent into Kentucky to relieve the Southern Arm of the campaign, who would return to Nashville to undergo their retraining and re-equipment. Finally, the Western Arm would be retrained and re-equipped in Nashville. This would take time and how much time would depend on how the war went. Estimates ranged from several months to several years, with most assuming that it would last years. If it did last years, that would leave enough time for the Army to issue their new rifles, based on a pre-war weapon called the "M16". It would be replacing the M1A1 and M2A1 rifles as well as the M3 machine gun. With plans in place for fighting the war and plans in place to make the war easier to fight, the Army made its moves.

The "First" Regiment, marching north to take Bowling Green, arrived in less than a day, cutting off the routes of retreat and resupply with machine gun nests and dug in positions. The commander, Colonel David Dalton, sent an emissary to Bowling Green with the demands. The soldier handed them to a guard and rode back to the Republican line. The letter was simple in its wording: I, Colonel David Dalton, Commander of the First Regimental Battle Group, Republican Army, hereby require your immediate surrender. If you surrender, there shall be no consequences for fighting alongside the Horsemen. Your people will be protected, your soldiers returned to their homes without harm, your farms and workshops untouched, and any aid you need. Refuse to surrender and we will take this town by force. Colonel Dalton resolved to await their response, placing his troops in foxholes and instructing them to construct two lines of circumvallation, one trench facing Bowling Green to defeat any attempts by the defenders to sally out and one trench facing out to repel any who would attempt to relieve the settlement. Machine guns and mortars were dug in and soldiers used their spare time to prepare for combat, sharpening bayonets, spades, and combat knives. If a refusal was received, they would be ready to seize the town. If an agreement was received, they would be ready to move on.

by **The Traansval** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 6:41 pm

Norfolk

A man in a beige shirt, black tie and puke Army green slacks stood in front of a mirror. He was adjusting his tie, he never was able to properly put the damn thing on. The door to his room opened, a aid of his walked in. A young up and coming Lieutenant in the Bureaucratic Corps.

"What is the status on the pacification of the new territories?"

"All of the new territory has been integrated save New Elizabeth District Sir, the legal proceedings are still going on there."

The man nodded, and pointed over to a chair on the other end of the room.

"Help me with my coat would you?"

"Absolutely Sir."

Two hours later

The man, now with his full uniform on, walked down the halls of the Capital building. His heels making quite the racket on the finely polished tile floors. He was flanked by several guards from the 1st Infantry. Each Regiment took turns giving a Platoon for the protection of the Joint Chiefs, and now 1st Infantry got its chance. Following behind him, like chicks following a hen, was a dozen or so Diplomats and government officials of the B.C., all with folders in hand to brief the Man on any information.

He stopped, turned on his heels preforming a perfect right face. Two of his guards moved and opened the doors, which another walked ahead of the Man. The doors opened to show a large, spacious room with high vaulted ceilings. The middle of the room was dominated by a open space, encircled by a row of benches in a semi-circle. The row of benches was split into different parts, each holding four men each. The largest was set against the wall, with two seats next to one higher seat. The guard stepped forward, and loudly announced;

"All rise for the Chairman of the Executive Council of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the State of Virginia, Alexander Benjamin Hayes."

A hush fell over the room as all attention was focused on him. Hayes never did like being the center of attention, but here it was needed. He looked around the room, seeing the delegations here. There were only two. Each had a bench, a flag on the front signifying their nation. Hayes had been briefs on what the expeditions had learned of each; the one with the red cross was the Gulf Commonwealth, a Democratic confederation in Florida and Georgia, and the other was a Empire on the Carolina coast. Two nations very different from Virginia, but ones that Hayes saw were also very alike.

He strode across the room. That third bench? It held the members of the Joint Chiefs. The two generals and two Admirals sat on either side of Hayes seat. He climbed up, and took his spot. The seat itself was unadorned, just a regular wooden seat like everyone else had. The only thing that lead it to stand out was the single golden star set in the top, and its higher elevation to the other seats of the Joint Chiefs.

Hayes picked up a gavel, and banged it on the desk;

"I hereby call to begin this Grand Summit of Atlantic Nations."

He took a sip of water from a cup on his desk, and stood up from his seat. He was a very average man, neither buff nor scrawny. But while he might seem unassuming, he held a vast amount of power. He unbuttoned his jacket, placing his left hand in his pocket as he turned side to side to view the delegations.

"Gentlemen, I thank you for your attendance. I understand that you have been chosen as your nations Delegate to our sublime Summit, and I thank you greatly. It is a honor to host the representatives of the President of the Gulf Commonwealth and the Emperor of the Tophat Empire hosted in our fair city of Norfolk."

He took a moment, and drank another sip of water.

"The realities of the Wasteland are harsh, many nations do not survive. But we are connected. We are men of Nations that have not only Survived in this hell we call home, but we have THRIVED! We are connected over the majestic blue waters we call the Atlantic, a body of water that provides us with routes of speedy trade, power for the watermills that help our economies, and the food of the fish and other wildlife that feed out peoples."

Hayes took a moment to look around, his hand still in the air after all the gesticulating he had done.

"And it is this shared bond of the Atlantic that I have called this. We are connected by the Atlantic, and so i propose a mutual Coalition of sorts."

Hayes sat back down, and reached under his desk for a folder. He pulled it out, placing it on his desk.

"On all of your desks in a rough draft for a Treaty of Mutual Trade and Defense, what i like to call the Atlantic Pact. Its terms are simple, each nation will not overtly restrict or tax trade between fellow Pact nations, will come to a fellow nations defense in times of war, and will bind itself to a promise of promoting mutual trade and good relations between pact members."

by **Prusslandia** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 8:37 pm

Augustum, Texas

The yellow sun hung high over the Texan badlands, a seeming harbinger for what was to come that day, and a fitting backdrop of the force marching through the Badlands. A crimson block of veteran Legionaries, bronze-coloured plate and red fabric standing out against the sun-bleached terrain, like a bloody gash on pale skin. They marched in perfect lockstep and in utter silence, a lifetime of instilled discipline at work, 100 men acting as a single entity. At their head marched an imposing figure of a different stripe, dark vest and tattered jeans a jarring change to the uniformity otherwise featured among the Legion.

As they drew close to the cities gate a group of 20-30 Vigiles approached, a clear mixture of fear and confusion present on their faces. Though their weapons remained at their chests, they were clearly tense. Their commanding officer moved forward, stretching an upraised palm towards the encroaching detachment.

"Halt and identify yourselves and your purpose for being here, or you will be fired upon." The officer yelled as the Legionaries came within twenty feet. The lead man stopped and held up a raised fist, the red time coming to a smooth halt behind him. There was total silence as he walked forward, boots imprinting on the sand as the man walked forward, soon standing before the officer, towering at least a head above her.

"I am Joshua Graham, Malpais Legate of Caesars Legion. I have come to parley with the Senate of Augustum." A quiet, deep voice rolled from out of the man, pale ice-blue eyes boring into the Vigiles officer. The officer moved back towards her soldiers, speaking hushed words into a radio. For moments afterward there was dead silence, the tension between the opposing groups coiling like a rattlesnake ready to strike. The soldiers atop the walls gripped their rifles tighter as they took aim at the Legate; One word and they'd fire directly at him. Luckily the moment deflated, the Vigiles stepping aside as the great gate wound open, the crimson parade march continuing forward, snaking through the city streets in the same silence as before, paying no mind to the gawking citizens, or the wary soldiers. Soon they reached the steps of the Capitolina. Graham moved up the steps as soon as they reached the building, 2 Praetorians and 4 Legionaries following close behind, the remainder of the detachment standing eerily still as they waited outside.

In little time they reached the Senate Chamber, where the Senate waited, caught in obvious surprise at the unexpected visit. Wasting not a moment the Legate moved to the front of the gathered Senators, easily visible to all of them. There as a moment of quiet as he stood, but was quickly shattered as his powerful voice rang out.

"I'm not going to waste time with introductions and meaningless talk. You all know who I am, and why I am here. You learned of the conquest of the Morgan Domain, and of the decimation of the tribe once known as the Twisted Hairs. You fear the wrath of Caesar, and fear sharing the fate of both the Morgan Domain and Twisted Hairs." Graham stood quietly as the Senators gave their silent, or even vocal, affirmation that fact. As they quieted Joshua began to speak again, loudly declaring to the assembly, "The Domain was debased, and corrupt. It was a den of raiders and criminals, a veritable pit of immorality. We attempted parley with them, attempted to meet them with reason. They met us with hurled curses and gunfire, and left us with no choice." He let it be silent for a moment, before speaking aloud again, his tone becoming harsh and almost zealous in nature.

"He has brought back their wickedness upon them, and will destroy them in their evil; The LORD our God will destroy them.” Silence filled the room for a moment before the Legate continued. “Do you understand what that means? The cesspool of corruption had to be cleansed; We were left with no choice but to put them to the sword. They were offered redemption, and they refused. Like vermin they lived, and like vermin they died. Would you not do the same to an infestation?" Again Joshua let his words rest, allowing the bureaucrats time to process his words, and then awaiting the rumbling murmurs and hushed whispers to die down. His speech began anew soon after this moment of silence, issuing forth from him.

"Now, onto the next matter at hand. The assimilation of the Twisted Hairs, and the decimation of those who resisted. I did not come here to lie or deceive you, only bring you the truth. Yes, we did break pact with the Twisted Hairs after the annexation, and subsequent pacification, of Arizona. Do you know why? They could not be trusted. Ask any man of the Legion with me today, and they will tell you how readily the tribe broke ties with their fellow tribes, how quickly they turned on those who they had known for generations. The risk of their betrayal was far too great to allow.

Additionally, they were an obstacle to civilization. Caesar seeks to bring order and civilization to the wastes, and it is easy to know tribals will oppose such objectives. They would have opposed us at every corner before long, and Arizona would be less safe if we had not broken them.

You need not fear Caesars Wrath. Ask any individual living within Two-Sun, or Phoenix, or any other city within the purview of Caesar. Any loyal civilized settlement is safe from such measures, from purgation and destruction. Augustum is safe from such measures." Graham gave the assembly a nod as he finished before he swiftly turned, making his way out of the city. Before long the detachment was on the march, a glimpse of crimson on the distant horizon.

Pampa, Texas

Whilst the Legate dealt with Augustum, he had left standing orders for his Centurions, to ensure the conquest did not halt in his absence. The Legate had taken the 1st Veteran Centuria, but the remaining Veterans, as well as the thousands of standard and prime legionaries beneath them, remained within Amarillo, under the command of senior Centurion Gaius Magnus, who saw fit to expand to both the East and West of their Texan holdings. 5 Centuria had been sent west towards the border with New Mexico, to annex the small settlement of Adrian, while a further 20 had been sent East, towards the Pampa Coalition, which held the settlement of Pampa, and extended to the Oklahoma border, stopping at the outpost of Shamrock. Gaius had been prepared for a slaughter, having expected the same amount of resistance the Morgan Domain had exhibited, and quietly relished the thought of a proper conquest. However the Pampa Coalition seemed to have learned to fear the servants of Caesar; When Gaius approached their gates they bent the knee and offered tribute, trembling like fearful children. In return Gaius garrisoned the city and allowed a majority of the populace to live freely, enslaving the criminals and crucifying the few individuals who resisted, leaving their crosses at the edge of the city, a testament to the fruits of resistance. He left Centurion Laebo in charge of the Pampa garrison, which stood at 4 Centuria, with the remaining 16 Centuria returning to Amarillo alongside Gaius.

by **NewLakotah** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 10:30 pm

Dover, Chesapeake Confederation
The Royal Quartier

Introduction: Peace Through Unity

The Capital city of the burgeoning Chesapeake Confederation had become a bustling center of trade, diplomacy and entrepreneurialism. After the ashes and radiation had settled, most of the survivors had set about rebuilding civilization from the ground up, mostly in the rural areas in the Delmarva Peninsula. For much of the early Post-War days, the cities had remained shells, host to only ghouls, bandits, and a few hardy souls seeking to rebuild the Old World. However, as these early settlers and scavengers had begun to organize into larger tribes, clans and bands, the cities, and in particular, Dover, took on new meaning and importance. It became the symbol of power and control over the region. The vast sprawl and urban centre had once been the seat of political and economic power in the Old World, and many were determined that it should be so again.

For the next several years, the different factions consolidated their power in their respective territories and battled it out for control of the all-important city of Dover. However, none were able to retain the city for any extended period of time. The residents of the city were mostly neutral in the seesaw battles the raged across the region. After the first peace and treaties organised the factions into a loose confederation and united nation, the Delmarva Peninsula was introduced to a new power that began to rapidly transform the region. These were vault-dwellers. They had survived for decades underground, safe from the bombs and remaining intact, with technology ready to rebuild the world around them. They quickly exerted their dominance over the surrounding settlements and small towns in the immediate areas. Winning them over with their tech and helping them organize and grow in strength. This new “Kingdom” quickly rose to dominance. They moved into Dover, the long sought former capital city, and moved quickly to control the area. After a short period they had control of the city and had killed most of the feral ghouls and settled most of the non-feral ghouls as well as “rehabilitating” the tribal bandits and warlords in the area and getting them and the other settlers to swear their allegiance to the Crown.
From then on the city had remained a Royalist stronghold. After the Letter of Intent had organized the whole peninsula into a singular faction, other factions began setting up their on trading and businesses in the city centre, alongside the Royalists. The Crown had established itself in the old Capitol building and set up their faction leadership there, after the treaty, the Confederation was organised with its capital located in the former state capital building. Around it became the centrepiece of the burgeoning society. The Royal Government had spent lavishly on rebuilding the region in and around Dover. It had begun to be considered the “jewel” of the wastelands. The ambitious Royalists in particular, insisting on continual redevelopment of the city to ensure that it would stand out from the rest of the world as a shining beacon of the world and a showcase of Confederation and Royal power.

The Capitol

Katherine Daniels, First Representative of the Confederation, walked quickly through the halls of the capitol building flanked on both sides by two aides. It had been only 2 months since her election as the new head of government, and was still in the middle of tense negotiations between all parties. To say her new position was tenuous would be a very apt statement. Daniels hailed from the farthest southern district of the Confederation, the Heartland, a deeply agricultural communal republic in the Republican Councils area of control, which differed vastly from the port regions and the capital districts, as well as from the nobility areas of the Royal regions. Its wealth and income didn’t come from trading or shipping or fishing, centred in large cities and townships, but from hardy substance farmers, mostly found in rural farming communities with small population centres. In all, an odd fit for the Chesapeake Confederation. Many of the entrenched Representatives for the port towns, which operated as the lifeline of the wealth and wellbeing of the Chesapeake, looked with some trepidation with the newcomer, believing that her interests would lie with the small farmers and not with the shipping industry and would do more to protect the farmers at the expense of them. Especially considering that the Heartlands and her own positions were known to be much more left-leaning in nature.

However, despite the internal political conflict, she had still received the Royal Commission from the King to form a new Confederal Council and had received the vote of confidence upon her election. In all, even her harshest critics couldn’t deny that she was extremely smart and very aggressive in nature, as well as shrewd in her understanding of politics. Born in the small farming community of Danstown, a small ramshackle town, her political future was anything but sure. However, she had managed to excel in what minor education she was able to receive in the community before heading to the Heartland’s small capital to receive more formal educational training. She soon showed great aptitude for mathematics as well as a growing interest in regional and state affairs. She started her political career in the local Heartland Commission, the local government offices, as a Treasurer. After that, during the small Merlin’s Rebellion, where several small towns along the southern borders allied with Raider bands from beyond the borders and sought to fight for more freedom and independence from the Confederation and Royal authority, Daniels had organized the Heartland’s small militia and growing it and equipping it through both the treasury and her personal contribution of caps, to counter the movement and the rebellion was soon crushed in a series of short battles and Jack Merlin, the leader of the rebellion was caught, sent to Dover for trial and summarily hanged. Daniel’s then argued for, and received official local pardons from the Heartlands Commissar and pressed for the King, then King George II, to grant a Royal pardon to all members who were not leaders.

This short episode had showcased her financial abilities and even some military prowess as a leader and elevated her into the national spotlight with her impassioned and eloquent speeches and letters to both the King and Republican councils. After the Rebellion and in honour of her victory and support during it, she received the commission from the Heartlands as a Militia Lt. Colonel, officially quartermaster and second-in-command of the Heartlands Militia District. The Heartlands was a small area, with an even smaller militia. Badly equipped and even worse trained. Daniels quickly petitioned the Commissar to grant new funds from the treasury for more equipment and training, which she received.

During the 3-month long Raider Campaign, in which the Chesapeake armies sought to root out several large raider clans along the southern border, Daniels lead the Heartlands Militia out, now better prepared and equipped, into action. The Militia performed well under fire, and Daniels’ own quartermaster and organizational ability again proved extremely strong, as she soon was placed in charge of all supply and organization of all Republican Militias in combat. Her ability was even noticed by the Royal Army, who even offered her a commission as a Quartermaster Colonel in the Regular Army. This she politely declined, however, and instead was hailed as a local hero by her home in the Heartlands and received a Militia commission for Quartermaster Militia General in the entire Republican Militia. Under the part-time nature of the Militia forces, she was able to hold this position as well as continue in her political career, becoming the Delegate from the Heartlands to the Republican Council. She soon found her place as the Treasurer in government, before herself seeking a larger leadership role in the nation. As the people lost faith in the government and in the Council, she quickly placed her name in the running for First Representative and shocked most people by managed to gain enough support to earn the right from the King to form a government. Her win was mostly due to sharp regional divisions between the more rural farming communities and the large sea-dependent coastal port towns as well as the strong northern Royalist representatives gaining support, but not enough to win votes to secure a victory. For Royalists, Daniels was the next best option, despite not be a known Royalist or with any type of peerage to go off of.

The Chesapeake Confederation had a unique political situation, especially noted in its unicameral Confederal Republican Council. At the top sat the King, by which all power would flow. He operated as the Head of State for more or less the entire Confederation and was the true governmental head within the Kingdom itself. The King had the power to declare war unilaterally, as well as build trading agreements and conduct all manor of foreign affairs through him or his appointed representative. He also had the final and most important say on who the First Representative, the true head of government of the Confederation, would be, as well as the ability to declare the government null and force a new election held. However, his largest check came from both the FR themselves, as well as the Confederal Council, the national legislative assembly. When it came to foreign affairs, as the designated representative, the FR, was allowed to engage in foreign policy and war policy by permission of the King, the Council was able to also restrict the foreign power of these heads by the No Confidence Vote, upon which, the FR would be forced to retire and a new policy enacted. The Council also managed all the day-to-day governmental and policymaking of the nation. It was able to check the power of the King with the Veto, enabling them to counteract any policy the King held, as well as the fact that the Council was the only body allowed to introduce legislation. For these reasons, it was always best for all three bodies of government to work in unison, something that was difficult to achieve, especially given the fractured nature of the Confederation itself which often lead to extreme differences between any given member of any of the different Republican Councils.

The Confederal Council was host to no less than 8 political factions, called “Blocs”, at any given time. They were usually regional in makeup or based on unifying economic and social platforms. Even in the unitary Chesapeake Kingdom were there fractures. The Royalist Bloc was the devoutly Monarchist platform, that often acted more as the mouthpiece of the King than anything else. The Catholic Bloc was also Monarchist, yet much more toned down, instead placed its power on the united factor of the largely Catholic populations and advocated on social reforms and religious rule of law more than anything. The third party of the Kingdom was the anti-Royalists, usually found in small numbers and, despite the name, were not anti-Monarchy, but did advocate for more checks on the Monarchy’s power. With in the Republican Councils the Blocs shifted from as far-left as the Communal Bloc, on an almost Communist-like platform, to the extremely Nationalistic National Bloc, a highly unoriginal title by any standard, and who argued for more expansionism and a stronger central government. However, the three most dominant Blocs were the Royalist, Confederal, and Republican. The Royalists’ position is as stated above, the Republicans were strong advocates of strong trade, ports and industrialization while the Confederals were mostly agricultural and were more concerned with trade as it effected them as well as a generally neutral to isolationist foreign policy. With all of these Blocs it was rare for any one singular party to gain any sort of single-Bloc government, and instead the FR would have to deal with weeks of backroom negotiations and political dealings in order to form a working coalition government.
With this in mind, Daniels accepted her appointed and began to move quickly to build her government. She quickly looked for and found allies in the Royalist Bloc, using their seats to build the core of her support, and supplementing it with her own political faction’s own support, which was from the farming and inland communities in the Confederal Bloc. However, she was well aware of the necessity of gaining support from the deeply rooted coastal and trading communities and their votes in the Republican Bloc, and she was quick to appoint them to offices and positions with her government, hoping to soothe some of the tensions and be able to have a real working relationship with them. With all of this, Daniels was quite ready to begin in her position.

Chapter 1: All’s well that ends well

Daniels was seated, surrounded by her cabinet. It was the first official cabinet meeting since that start of the session, and she was keen on getting things going. Her Officer of Maritime Affairs , Grover Lachlan, was just beginning to start his first reports in.

Lachlan was an aging experienced naval officer and a devout Republican. He had served for several years as a merchantman before accepting a commission into the Royal Navy as a Lieutenant, proving himself more than capable as a commander. He was soon given command of his own vessel, serving in anti-piracy missions for several years before leaving the ocean behind and retired as a Commodore from the Navy to seek a comfortable career as a politician. However, he lacked the pose and understanding of political dealings to manage to navigate himself effectively into any sort of real powerful positions. While he was generally regarded as a shrewd man, and his knowledge of ocean affairs and naval experience was generally well accepted, his reticence on public speaking and debate usually meant he stayed out of the picture. However, his behind the scenes work and understanding, as well as generally neutral opinions on him from the rest of the Council meant that he was exactly the type of Republican councilman that Daniel’s wanted. So, despite his deep rooted Republicanism, Lachlan accepted his position.

Lachlan handed Daniels a manila folder, which she promptly opened and started scanned through the various reports, before he began his speech.

“Madame Representative, as you are aware, I’m sure, our trading output has been, at best, stagnant for some months now. Part of this is of course due to the increased amount of pirate raids off of our coasts. According to our most recent naval reports…” He points down at one of the papers. “here… As you can see, we have strong reason to believe that many of these attacks are from the same band, often called the Irish Rovers. Now, we aren’t quite sure as to where they are operating from, however, they are only hitting our trade routes within the inlet here. So, its our belief that they must be coming from somewhere up here.” He points to the map on the long table to the northern most point of the inlet, where the Susquehanna River empties into the ocean. “We aren’t sure of course, however, but it is the most likely route of interception. With that in mind, I would like to authorize the Royal Navy to send a squadron on a new anti-piracy mission with a detachment from the Royal Army. Its goal would be simple and singular. Eliminate this threat, find the port from which they operate, and eliminate it on the ground. Then, to secure the port, with the ground forces to deny it to any other faction or pirate band again.”

Daniel’s looked up at him. “I find it quite easy to be able to authorize a naval action, with an attached army unit, to eliminate the threat. However, what exactly is the plan with the port? To hold it indefinitely?” She glances around. Lachlan leans forward again.

“Precisely,” He responds. He glances around the room at the Royalist members. “It is a position that, I believe that we share between the Republicans and Royalists. We both know that expansion has been a keen issue for some time, with our borders pushing both north and south. Moving north is a necessity for sure. Not just for trade and industry, but for farming as well. However, I would also propose a secondary topic, that is of course, the expansion of the navy. The addition of 3 light cutters for patrol as well as a brig for anti-piracy and fleet protection would enable our navy to advance from just our waters, to protect our trade almost anywhere it goes. Thus, piracy against our navy would be vastly reduced as our blind spots so to speak would be removed.”
Daniel’s glanced around the room. She can tell that all the Republicans and most of the Royalists agree with Lachlan. She sighs.

“A military campaign is something that is practicable, however, it is not prudent to leave soldiers virtually isolated miles from the border. Instead, a push, should it come, should come from the northern borders themselves. That being said, authorization for the development of a larger naval force will be certainly begin as soon as possible. I also grant full authority to deal with the pirates with whatever force you deem necessary.”

Chesterton, Chesapeake Confederation
The HMCS Queen Mary

“The Power behind the Throne”

The HMCS Queen Mary was the pride and joy of the Royal Chesapeake Navy. She was the Flagship, a 5th Rate Paddle Steamer the strongest and largest of the entire inventory. She was to be the lead in the upcoming anti-piracy mission. It wouldn’t be the first anti-pirate mission the large ship had take, and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last.

Lachlan had been quick to appoint a commander for the operation, a Commodore by the name of Danny Moncton, a haggard-looking, scarred man of around 38. Moncton was a sailor through and through. He was practically born at sea, his parents both working aboard trading schooners and he soon entered into the family business. However, the monotonous day-to-day life of a trader disinterested him. He disliked the fear that pirates instilled and looked up in awe at the dashing officers and swarthy sailors of the Royal Navy as they would swoop by in the massive ships, dazzling in their sharp uniforms and armed to the teeth with a vast array of weaponry to defeat the pirates in a firework display like no other. It wasn’t long before the young man had decided left the merchant life to seek the thrills of the navy. Enlisting at 16, he find that the Navy wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Much of the life was still just day-to-day monotony. However he found the pay good and the thrills of combat unlike any other. For him it made up for the long days of endless monotony. After years of arduous work, Moncton slowly began to fight his way through the ranks. His valour under fire and his innate ability to lead and inspire was noticed by his superiors and he received his commission as an Ensign at the age of 24. After 4 years of duty, he was given his first ship command, at the rank of Lt. Commander, of the HMCS Defiance, a post he would serve for the next 3 years. He would continue to prove himself an apt commander, particularly in offensive anti-piracy missions, over the more passive, patrolling missions and escort missions. This lead to him petitioning and receiving, a transfer from the Cutter to the Frigate Dover, as First Mate, or Commander. In one encounter with pirates, the Captain of the ship was killed and Moncton took control and guided to ship to victory. Seizing this opportunity, Moncton remained in command for the duration of the mission, and, upon returning back to port, was made full captain.

His promotion to Commodore was a recent one, coming only within the last 2 months, so Lachlan’s decision to put him in charge of the operation had surprised more than a few. However, Lachlan had been impressed with Moncton’s war record, as well as his extremely aggressive behavior that rewarded him more often than not. Not to mention, Moncton himself was a deeply rooted Republican who held no qualms with making it well known. Lachlan had sent Moncton, his marching orders: Take a squadron out under your discretion and find the pirate base and eliminate them by any means. Salvage whatever of the ships you can and locate and mark the port of use that the Pirates have.

For his mission, Moncton had been given a small company of Regulars from the 2nd Royal Chesapeake Infantry Regiment under the command of Lt. Mark Stroll. Stroll had been a veteran of several antipiracy missions, so was quite used to the sea life.

On board the Queen Mary, Commodore Moncton poured over the maps of the inlet leading to the river. Flanking him was Captain Roger Walton, the Captain of the Queen Mary and his official second in command. Lt. Stroll was expected to arrive with his company the following day, so it gave Moncton about 24 hours to formulate his strategy and select his squadron. He chose to go relatively light alongside the large flagship, taking along a single sloop and a Cutter, and leaving the larger frigate behind to guard the waters. He had sent out orders to all the ship’s captains that would be going along; drill, drill, drill. For now that was all he could do. That, and wait for the infantry to arrive.

by **Zelent** » Wed Apr 04, 2018 10:49 pm

Tyler, TX, ETTF Territory
The East Texan Trade Federation Council elections, despite accusations of malpractice by both sides went relatively well. Although gunfire was exchanged at some polling stations, as various factions opposed to the annexation attempted to secure ballot boxes, they were mostly rebuked by the hired NCT mercenaries. For the NCT atleast, the election was a resounding success. It seemed like the commoners had approved the aims to give the Commonwealth a chance at ruling over them, as they had strongly elected pro-annexation Councilmen, with 9/13 councilmembers now supporting annexation. Immediately almost, Commonwealth investments started flowing into the territory. 32,000 Texan coppers in the first week in the form of investments into building a Pro-NCT radio station and the modernization of some 8 wells in ETTF towns. All this aimed at boosting the popularity of the NCT in the territory.

Trade Routes in Danger
A specially assigned ranger, following up on Police reports, left his post in Woodville on a early morning, traveling North to the reported location of the main base of operations of the Crockett Riflemen. He didn't dress particularly outlandishly, he could be taken for a simple scavenger or a merchant. He met with the chief salesman of the Crockett Rifleman, they discussed the terms shortly, with the lone ranger randomly interjecting a fair number of details on his caravan, under the guise of being a potential customer. Apparently, this customer along with his two employees were lightly armed, and would need protection on a route from Lufkin to the Commonwealth border. Wow, what a price. No, too steep for this man, respectfully, he'd take his business elsewhere. Riding back to Lufkin, he met with four other rangers from his company along with a team of three plain clothed policemen. The plan was simple, the chief ranger, accompanied by one of the policemen and one of his rangers would conceal their weapons under their garments, with their rifles stuck down in the packs of their Brahmin. Then, with the other police officers and rangers patrolling ahead of the caravans route, theyd wait until the ambush was spotted, and give a signal to the Caravan, at thatd point, before the intended ambush could be sprung the caravan would launch a preemptive attack, wiping out the raiders. What do you know, Crockett Riflemen, certainly based off what the chief ranger remembered. So, the team waited for reinforcement.

Response to San Antonio
President Maddox was forced into a position of deep pondering, but certainly not fearful. The Caesars Legion was geographically speaking, diametrically opposed to his Commonwealth. A looming threat on the horizon, he ordered that NCT forces begin training at a increased rate, an official military response must wait until the Commonwealth was completely battle ready. Surly, the Legion wouldn't cover too much ground too fast, right? He wrote back to San Antonio, offering a agreement to send aid in the form of Commonwealth battalions should the Legion reach them first.

by **The Traansval** » Thu Apr 05, 2018 2:49 pm

Hampton

Colonel Jacob Malcolm looked through his binoculars down on the town of Hampton from his Headquarters overlooking the city. Ironically the spot of the old battle line made during the Battle for Hampton, the headquarters had taken a month or so to construct. It was very basic, just a concrete building housing the Colonel and his office, and a surrounding spattering of log cabins for his staff and the staff of the 5th Regiment.

Colonel Malcolm, recently promoted from Lt. Col where he had been on staff with the commander of the 3rd Infantry in the battle of Elizabeth City. He was now granted command of the North Brigade, made up of the 5th and 4th Infantry. Their job was to protect the heartland of the State, including Norfolk, Hampton and Suffolk. Hampton was underguard by the 4th Infantry, with two of the Battalions back in Norfolk protecting there under the command of Malcolm's second in command, Lt. Colonel James Wilson. The 5th, under the command of Colonel Bart Fletcher, had two battalions garrisoned in Suffolk, with the other two under Wilsons command in Norfolk.

Malcolm didn't expect much trouble, his Brigades purpose was defense and he was going to do it. He also understood that both Hampton and Suffolk were newly conquered lands, and made sure that the camps for the Regiments were isolated from the towns while also being close enough that they could reach the city to either defend it or put down rebellion. Right now, a few platoons from some of his Battalions were building up city defenses, including a wooden wall around Hampton. Progress was slow going, but Malcolm would make sure that Hampton and Suffolk would be the most fortified cities in Virginia, minus Norfolk of course.

Virginia Beach

It was only two weeks prior that Captain Garfield August's bounty with the Navy had run up, and now he needed to find work. Luckily, the man he'd served under had recently been appointed Commandant of Virginian Shipyards at Virginia Beach, also known simply as "The Yards" by locals. Only a week after his retirement, August got a letter in the mail from his former Commander, offering a spot as a Inspector for the Yards.

He'd taken the opportunity eagerly, which lead him to his current situation.

When they'd taken the city of Virginia Beach from the Savage tribals, they'd nearly destroyed the area in their attempt to clear it. Due to this, the State had had much ease in clearing and then rebuilding on the former lands of Virginia Beach. Instead of the usual rebuilt pre-war buildings you'd see in Norfolk, Chesapeake or even Suffolk, the buildings of Virginia Beach were all brand new, built by the Corp of Engineers or civilians. Most were made of scrap metal or wood, but many (primarily those built by the Corps) were made of concrete and rebar. One of these, was the Yards. Prior to the conquest of Virginia Beach, the State had built its ships out of a restored yard in Norfolk. But the limitations of using a pre-war cite that had been repaired were apparent. So, when they found a portion of the old docks of Virginia Beach had been left barren by mortar shells, they built and entire Drydock from scratch, around specifications made by the Navy.

What they built was one of the best post-war shipyards on the East Coast. It could build four ships at once, and the record time for shipbuilding was the VSS America at One Month, two days and 11 hours. This was a bit of a pride for the local resides, whose lives and economy were dominated by The Yards. Much of the local population owed their jobs to the Yards, either by being workers building the ships or running the administration, or through the economic boom brought by all the sailors and soldiers on leave. The Yards turned Virginia Beach from a minor settlement to the second largest city in the State in no time flat. It probably was helped along by the construction of the Virginia Beach Docks, which were twice the size of the docks in Norfolk and were easier to access on the Atlantic.

Each compartment of the shipyard had a viewing platform, either for visiting officers or, more likely, the Inspectors. Inspectors like Captain August. He was overseeing the construction of the VSS Suffolk, a new sixth rate Frigate. In the other three compartments, three new Cutters were being constructed. August flipped some papers on his chart, construction was slated to be finished in six months on the Frigate, and three on the Cutters. He looked out the window at the workers, most were former veterans and it showed. They worked as teams, listening to their Supervisors who were tough but fair, probably former Sergeants and such. August chuckled, he knew these men would meet that time quota.

Shoups Landing

Field Outpost Delta, formerly known in the pre-war times as Shoups Landing. It was the structure closest to the Highway 13 Checkpoint, and had become the main camp for the 3rd Infantry and 1st Legion. Ever since the conquest of the Southern Territories, the State was confronted with the fact that it had a very large and powerful nation on its southern border, and it was scared by that.

Lieutenant Franks looked out over the waters of that mighty river that was the divider between Union and State, the one thing stopping them. The only way they could cross was to invade the neutral territory in the north, or to pass over the few bridges spanning the river. Already, some Engineers were wiring explosive charges to the bridges, just in case they tried to cross. On the Virginia side, men from Frank's Regiment, the 3rd, were manning a border post. He'd heard reports that the other bridge, near Edenton, was being manned by the 1st, 2nd and 6th Regiments along with the 2nd Legion.

While the 3rd held the river, the 1st Legion used Field Outpost Delta as a base for patrols along the river bank. They'd move out as Platoons, checking in on settlements. The majority of scouting was done by the Dragoons, who would radio in any attempt by the Union to cross by boat and call for Infantry backup. One such Dragooner was Corporal Malcom of the 1st Legion, 1st Troop of Dragoons. He and his squad were on the bank near Arrowhead beach, trotting along the sandy beaches watching the river and the opposite shoreline. Vigilant of even the small movement. Soon they'd have to return to base, but they still had maybe an hour before they'd have to head back, for now they could enjoy the quiet stillness of the forest and the sound of water from the serene river.

by **NewLakotah** » Thu Apr 05, 2018 9:17 pm

Chapter 2: War Drums, never ceasing always beating

Cry ‘Havoc’, and let slip the Dogs of War – Shakespeare, Julius Caesar.

Chesterton, Chesapeake Confederation
HMCS Queen Mary – Flagship of the Royal Chesapeake Navy

Commodore Moncton had his command and had his fleet. Now, with the infantry regulars arriving in, Moncton knew it was time to go. He stood along his cabin and looked out over the port town with its bustling industry and workshops. Merchants and fishermen heading out in their boats starting the days work in a steady rumble. He glanced down at the dock and the gangway leading up to the ship, watching as the crisp regulars marched onto the ship. He turned quickly and moved to exit the cabin and to greet the soldiers.

Standing right outside was Captain Walton, waiting for Moncton to exit. Moncton glanced and him and then turned to face the just arriving Lt. Stroll. Stroll was large African-American man with a deep accent and a knack for getting himself into combat. He wore the standard regular officer’s uniform, crisp dark red with black pants, with a large solid yellow stripe down both pantlegs. The White sash and Sam Browne belt, complete with sword and the large wide-brimmed black hat, also with a large plume feather, completed the man’s attire. It was picture perfect from head to toe, Stroll being not be a man to waste his uniform’s potential. He stopped before Moncton and Walton and quickly saluted. His red and immaculately kept uniform differed slightly from that of Moncton and Walton. Their navy uniforms were a dark blue, with yellow trimmings. It was a clean look, but neither Moncton nor Walton gave it the attention that Stroll clearly had.

Moncton and Walton both return Stroll’s salute as the rest of his detachment form up behind him.

“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.” Moncton remarks, dropping his arm.

“Thank you, Sah,” Stroll responds, his accent clear in almost every word, with its almost New England like pronunciation. “My men are ready for duty, on your order.”

“Good to hear Lieutenant. Now, if you will join me in the war room, we can go over the plan of action and our orders.”

Moncton turns and enters his the small map room, a large table dominates the centre of the room, on it a large map of the Chesapeake Bay, leading up to the Susquehanna River. Walton and Stroll follow in close behind. Moncton takes his place and points down at a marker at Chesterton.

“Here, gentlemen, this is us. Our squadron will consist of 3 ships, including this one, and the two smaller ships. Most pirates chose lighter, faster vessels. They are easier to control and handle, require less a crew and makes it easier to escape from larger ships such as us. So, with that we will be heading out from here, to make our way north, along the coast, scouting for any potential sites of pirate enclaves. We have it from mariners and intelligence that it is likely that their base of operations is up here, at the mouth of the River. Our mission, from the naval point of view is simple: find and destroy. Eliminate the piracy threat at sea, then trace it back to the port. At this point, Lt. Stroll, you take command. Your regulars, supported by whatever naval force you require, will take that port, and hold it until orders are received, if tenable. If we deem it untenable to hold, then we are to destroy it and ensure that no one, other than us, will be able to have access to it. Is everything understood, gentlemen?”

There are quick nods and murmurs of approval from the other men. Moncton straightens himself up.

“Well then, gentlemen, off to war we go again.” He smiles softly at the two men before Stroll salutes again.

“Sir! I will return to my men to brief them and to prepare them for the operation, it is my honour to be apart of this mission and serve under your command.” With that Stroll does a crisp about face and exits the room. Moncton smiles again before turning to Walton.

“I do believe that is the finest dressed Lieutenant I have ever seen.”

At Sea
27th Anti-Piracy Squadron – Commodore Moncton’s Command

The HMCS Queen Mary had departed, alongside the Cutter Retribution and the sloop St. Phillip, and was slowly making their way out of the bay and into open water. Moncton’s strategy was simple, stay along the known shipping lanes, well within sight of land, and see if any pirates showed up and to see if they could spot any potential base of the pirates. The fast moving and lightly armed Retribution was out front, acting as the scout, while the sloop St. Phillip glided along on the flank of the Queen Mary, who barrelled forward at a steady pace.

Back at home, Officer of Maritime Affairs Grover Lachlan had been at work, meeting with the Navy Brass and political leadership to grow the Royal Navy. As it stood now, the navy was capable to defend its own borders competently, however, lacked the ability to go on missions or defend its trade route beyond only a few miles. Lachlan had given the Navy Brass, under command of Admiral Dame Sheila Rodriguez the Viscountess Oxford, authority to commandeer several trading schooners to refit them for patrol duty, freeing up the larger ships for more important missions. Each of the schooners would be fitted with around 6 cannons on a single gun deck, and staffed with a small crew, mostly comprised of merchant mariners under the command of a Royal Navy Lieutenant or Lt. Commander. It would give them ability to protect more of the long coastline and provide an interim solution as Lachlan would start the more ambitious Naval Growth Plan, the plan to increase the navy’s overall firepower. For this, Lachlan was given the funds to begin construction of two larger vessels, and appropriation of funds to begin for a third. These would be two new Sloops-of-War, each loaded out with 16 guns a piece, whose speed and quickness were the Royal Navy’s bread and butter. The third ship, which was barely even on the drawing board at this stage, would be a new real powerhouse Frigate. Lachlan was petitioning the government and treasury to make it a paddle steamer, just like the Queen Mary. However, most in the government felt that that was an unnecessary expenditure, preferring a simple 6th Rate class of ship, armed with 24 guns. As many in the government were quick to point out, the Navy didn’t even have enough guns to arm a single sloop let alone three. More of the workshops in Chesterton and Ocean City would have to be designated for operation to build these guns. All of this Lachlan had to work through in order to build his navy.

None of this mattered to Moncton at this point. Just out to sea, Moncton’s main concern was the weather and making sure the pirates wouldn't get the better of them. He figured they probably wouldn’t run into much trouble for at least this section of the journey. However, after they left Chesapeake waters, things would more than likely start to heat up. Most pirate vessels were small, usually nothing larger than brigs or maybe a few schooners. Every now and again, the Navy would have to face off against a sloop or a few cutters. However, the pirates lacked the equipment to face off against the Royal Navy in a pitched engagement. Usually harassing naval ships with light fire before fleeing before them in their light, fast ships. Pirates were usually heavily armed but were usually lacking in good equipment and heavy weapons, which gave the Navy a solid advantage, but left the smaller trading vessels at their mercy.

For now, however, the mission was just beginning, so there was nothing for Moncton to do but sit back and wait.

“The heaviest penalty for declining to rule is to be ruled by someone inferior to yourself.” – Plato, The Republic

King Wesley was not a man that inspired dedication based on initial first impressions. At 38, he was a short man, about 5’6 in height, with a thin frame, matched with a tired looking expression that he carried with him at all times. However, what he lacked in physical presence, he made up for it with his strong educational background and active experience. Born the first-born of then King George III, he was set on a path leading straight to the eventual throne itself. Given the title of Duke of Salisbury at birth, his father wanted to be sure that his son would be ready to take on the mantle of leadership and the crown well.

Taught from an early age from the best tutors in the entire Confederation, he had access to lessons of mathematics and history that most simply didn’t have. The young Wesley loved his studies, particularly those on history, both from the Pre-War records secured in the vaults, as well as the more recent historians and their histories of the Post-War World. At the age of 12, Wesley was set off to a military preparatory boarding school in Easton, known as the Easton Royal Military Preparatory School, an extremely prestigious school where many of the wealthy and nobility would send their children as well as those who figured their child would excel in the military. It was considered the first step for a truly successful military career in the Royal Army. Here Wesley did well, proving himself an intelligent young man as well as a endowed with a keen sense for military affairs. At 18 he went from there to the Royal Military Academy in Dover, and upon graduation received his commission in the Royal Guards as a Lieutenant. However, due to his position as both Duke and Prince, he was quickly promoted to Major and given a command.

Posted to the Northern border, he experienced combat first hand during several bandit raids along the River that marked the end of the Chesapeake’s control. Despite that the fact that he did handle himself well under fire, it was more at his father’s insistence did Prince Wesley receive a rapid promotion through the ranks, giving him full-bird Colonelcy and command of the 2nd Battalion, Royal Guards. He would serve at this post for another 2 years, leading 2 expeditions into the northern raider zones in offensive actions, before being pushed higher and higher into the military hierarchy, before being given the final position of Field Marshall of the Armies giving him the full title of Field Marshall Prince Wesley Hamilton, Duke of Salisbury. The rank was a new creation, and he was the first to hold the position. The position itself was the bridging between the Royal Army and the Republican Militias. For most of their history together, both operated separately, only coming together under official order and still then operating separately. Even with the new bridge, the Republican Army was hardly professional, and still maintained much of its independence. However, it was a start, and a way to ensure that the Militias would have some standardized training and equipment to go off of.

It was in this position that Prince Wesley learned of his father’s death and his new ascension to the throne. It was a position that he had been preparing his whole life for, one that he was trained for, yet still he looked at it with trepidation.

Dover, Chesapeake Confederation
The Royal Palace

The Palace was along the old Federal Street, in the large old government buildings in the Heritage Park. The Old State House had been transformed into the King’s Residence, while the larger grand brick buildings became the Royal Court, Assembly, and general offices.

King Wesley walked quickly towards the large conference hall from his Residence, followed by a small escort of guards and aides. He wore his crisp red military uniform and large plume hat, now with a different attached rank, and with gold trim and gold buttons and his ceremonial sword encrusted with gold and silver in the hilt. For him, he enjoyed the uniform and what it stood for, both for the nation and personally.

It was a quick walk from the Residence to the Court, but he walked quickly nonetheless, Wesley hated being late, a product of his many years in military school and the regular army. Inside the hall he was greeting by a wide variety of his council, including First Representative Katherine Daniels, Field Marshall of the Armies Lord Danworth Kensington, Admiral Viscountess Oxford, Officer of Defence and War Jessica Alton, Officer of Maritime Affairs Grover Lachlan, and his Royal Governor, the Earl of Dover, Martin Villanova.

The small assembly rises respectfully as he enters and all drop a quick bow. Wesley nods in response before heading to his seat at the head of the table. He quickly takes his seat, motioning for the others to do the same. They do so quickly, waiting for the King to begin the meeting.

“Thank you for your attendance here today,” he begins with clear crisp pronunciation through his soft aristocratic southern drawl. “Now, I am sure that there are many a topic that need to be discussed, however, for at this point I, alongside Lord Kensington and Officer Alton, have begun to talk the preliminaries for a new offensive action. It is in my opinion and that of the Kingdom, that the northern border should be expanded outward. While the river does provide a strong security, place our ring of defences on the opposite side would be very beneficial to us. As well as economically. Once the raiders and outliers are eliminated or pacified, the settlements will be able to join into this Confederation.”

He pauses to gage the reactions, particularly that of FR Daniels. He had authorised Daniels to form the government, feeling her to be the right moderate Confederal representative that would be able to manage the economy and nation well. She had a strong record within the Republican Militias, particularly at organization and administration, something the King respected. However, he was still unsure of how she would be, in particular, her relation with the Crown. Many Confederals were neutral to anti-Monarchist by disposition, and while Daniels was at least not openly anti-Crown, there was still time to tell.

Daniels quickly moved to speak.

“Your Majesty, I do believe that there is some merit to be had in an operation such as this, however, the expense could be quite exuberant in total. As you know, we recently approved funds for two more ships to the Royal Navy as well as beginning the procurement for another larger frigate. That alone is facing a battle in Assembly Hall.”

Lord Kensington leans forward in his seat turning towards Daniels. “Quite, Madame Representative. However, this operation will be helping our economy. Manning the frontlines as they stand are fantastic from a defensive point of view but make it difficult to be able to launch any pre-emptive attacks or offensive actions to eliminate raider threats. Many settlements on the opposite side of the river would gladly join under our banner. Not to mention, our goal, Elkton, would be a fantastic point for trading and for a naval base along that point and would give us access to this small peninsula along that front, as well as a great position to be able to move into the Susquehanna River, which, as you know, has been a recent thorn in our sides.”

The King clears his throat in preparation to speak and the small assembly hushes and looks at him.

“As King, I have the authority to send the Royal Army forward and take an offensive action. However, I do not want to simply act unilaterally in this situation. I want support from you, Representative Daniels and from the Council. In fact, it is my recommendation that, alongside the Royal Army contingent, the Republican Army and the Militias join in the operation as a key part of our mission and within our military leadership.”

Daniels blinks, it would be a political boon for her personally and the Republican districts to be given a larger role in any military operation. For the most part, the Royal Military forces were by far the best trained and most elite of anything in the region. The Royal Navy was the only real naval force there, and the Royal Army with their intensive training, Military Academy and technology and equipment standardization made them the prime force of the region and the equal of almost any in the entire wasteland. However, this often lead to the regulars looking down on the Republican military forces and their ragtag militias, with them usually being left behind or left in guarding duty during any operation that they were even invited to be on. A move to allow militia commanders into the fold of a military operation, even if it was a show of tokenism, would do wonders for the unity of the Confederation, something that Daniels sought intensely.

Daniels smiled. “Well. I can certainly begin arrangements. I feel that that could easily be popular among many in the Assembly Hall, and certainly within the districts themselves.”

The King nods approvingly. “It is decided then. Lord Kensington will formulate more of the strategy, and will begin the coordination with the Republican Militia Army commanders. I hope that within only a few days to weeks this operation will done and the region in our control.”

by **Parcia** » Thu Apr 05, 2018 10:17 pm

Event time!
(Authorized by Trans in Discord)

The discovery of a set of pre-Ragnarok weapon racks in the newly opened basement of the Old Truman Annex building is a shock to many of the tribe. The fact that these weapons could go decades if not a century before being found causes many to question the security of the island. A total is quickly summed up:

Out of the 200 weapons reclaimed, roughly 180 of them were of the retired US military M16A3 specification, with 20 or so being the M14. Along side with these rifles was a large stock of 5.56mm Ball ammo, and a sizable stock of 7.62mm ammo, mostly pre-war, high quality rounds meant for long range sniping. A stock of other accessories, mostly magazines, suppressors, and spare parts for these weapons have also been found alongside a shipping manifest and note detailing the origin of the weapons.

They had originally been kept at NAS Keywest as weapons for reservists before being fully phased out by the R series of rifles, and later the AER-laser rifles; but due to the foresight of the base commander, locked away for future use. A set of x24 variable zoom scopes have also been secured with the stash. The note also led to the discovery of a set or pre-war instruction manuals for the rifles, as well as ones for the scopes.

While the M16s will go to the Guard, to both re-equip them and free up the Hunting and Varmint rifles for a second, larger group of Guard to form. Thus pushing the numbers of the guard by an extra 150 due to the reallocation of arms.

The Various and far flung members of the Nattjägare to come home, being messaged through various means. Many take the new m14s as their standard rifles, with many also trading their large caliber revolvers for the Clans stock of 10mm Pistols. Many also take this time to re-knit their trademarked "Bush Suit" that they commonly wear.

by **Prusslandia** » Fri Apr 06, 2018 12:45 am

Jackson, Mississippi

Nephi wasted no time with Miss Ippi, motioning for one of the Reavers behind him to hand him a map, quickly flattening the paper as soon as he received it, beckoning Ippi over. Rubbing his face his gestured to spots on the map, beginning to speak as he did so. "Blackhall has us marching for war against Orleans, he's already sent a few thousand Reavers southward, hitting the towns around Orleans, and we'll be moving in on the city itself soon. Reason why I'm not participating in the first wave is that he sent me here to get the assistance of you lot; You're strong warriors, decently armed, and you'll be a good compliment to our forces there. You keep what you kill, so to speak, and Deathshead can work out any territory or tribute with the Kaizer."

Nephi paused for a moment after that, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a couple jet inhalers, passing one over for Miss Ippi to hit. Letting the cold rush of the Jet fill his body, he started to speak again, his frame jittery and eyes wild.

"So how about it? It'll be a grand ol' fucking time. Hell, I even promise to keep Cook-Cook away from you; He's gonna be set loose before the rest of us."

by **New Minahasa** » Fri Apr 06, 2018 7:02 pm

Vicksburg, Mississippi

Miss Issippi listened and observed to what Nephi had to say. From looks alone, one could tell that she was already interested in the topic. "Orleans, huh? Yeah, we've had our eyes on them for some time now, but figured it'd be fucking risky. None of our men are experienced fighting in the bayou, and the whole topic around Gatorclaws always pops up whenever someone says "Orleans". I probably should discipline those fucks myself if they're gonna run just by hearing that name alone. Anyway, I'll contact Deathshead myself. I reckon he'll be interested in this himself, now that he's secured his own throne. You'll see our men marching down the swamps soon enough." She gave Nephi a brief grin, inhaling from the jet.

El Paso, Texas

The Grand Senate was shocked by the arrival of the Malpais Legate himself... or so most people thought. Half, if not the majority of the senators were already swayed by Legion bribes a day before the gathering. Even the Magnus Mechanicus himself, Nicodemus Valens, was met by one of the Legion frumentarii. They had given the promise that Augustum's zeppelin project would be funded by the Legion itself, along with some... extra bonuses. The Dux Primus himself was, of course, very interested. Another zeppelin at their possession would a very valuable thing. Only those so-called purists and members of the 'Eastwards Faction' were not swayed by the Legion's sweet promises, but the Malpais Legate's clever words might had. A testament to the man's religious intelligence and disturbing charisma.

Following the next day, yet another vote was held. This time, regarding if Augustum should or should not break their ties with the Legion. As expected, most of the senators voted for no as the bribes found their way into each senator's pockets. Magnus Mechanicus Nicodemus Valens, the Dux Primus of the Grand City, then proclaimed that the Grand City would stay being a tributary to the Legion. Some of the senators, of course, tried to protest, but the voting was already final. Not even the entire Triarchy could stand against it.

But no, their problem was yet to finish. A pamphlet had found its way into the hands of various senators and commanders of Augustum, telling the readers Caesar's own views on ideology and religion. It claimed that Caesar would diminish any freedom of religion from his subjects. Interestingly, said pamphlet had uncanny similarities to the same poster that got the entire city in this problem in the first place. Further investigations proved that the tone and the style of writing were indeed the same, albeit having a different handwriting and better papers. Maybe someone was helping this unknown author? If yes, that person must really be someone.

The Dux Primus chuckled at his own thought, waving a hand over to one of the praetoriae. "I want the praetoriae and the vigiles to keep an eye on any outsiders and the former slaves, specifically someone who's been here for longer than two weeks. The man who wrote the poster must either be a well-versed scholar, someone who's been out west for long, or a former Twisted Hair tribal. Tell the men to keep an eye out for these people, especially the latter. I want any outsider who speaks with a senator, a senator's family member, or really anyone who's related to one of the senators to be brought over to me. No what's, no but's, and no if's. If they resist, tell them they'll spend their days in the dungeon until I have the time to come down there myself and speak with them. This... Tacitus Secundus has to be dealt with."

A few days later, another pamphlet would reach the hands of the senators and military commanders, titled On the Ideology of Caesar of Caesar's Legion, by ~~Tacitus Secundus~~. The title itself was very similar, only that the name of the author was crossed out, clearly showing hostility to whomever the person was. The contents of the pamphlet were trying to debunk any information provided by the other pamphlet, including how Caesar would've imposed his will, specifically the termination of freedom of religion, from Augustum long ago if that's what he indeed planned to do in the first place. This would hopefully counter any arguments written by the name Tacitus Secundus.

by **Theyra** » Fri Apr 06, 2018 8:39 pm

((Collab between Theyra and Dragos Bee))

Nathaniel Green and his Companions

Nathaniel and Sedna were now bodyguards of Marcus Antonius Junior, and as such were entitled to better equipment. Note that on the insistence of Marcus' father, Nathaniel and Sedna were given more functional combat armor instead of anything that identified them as too 'Roman'; this was because he knew the two would have to escape the city eventually. Thus, they wore old police armors, with their only mark of service to the Antonius bloodline being ornate helmets with dyed-blue horse-hair ornaments on top of them. These can be taken off at the first opporunity, which was...now.

As the two stood guard at the door of Marcus Antonius Senior's estate, Nate and Sedna would hear the footsteps of the Senator himself and his son. The former was in his toga, while the latter wore pre-war clothing chosen more for function than status. Nate knew that something bad had happened.

"We're about to be caught," the covert NCR Agent said. "Or rather, the net is closing."

Marcus Antonius Senior, his balding head wrinkled with grief and worry, nodded. "You have to escape; with my son if need be. The Legion's bribery has won over Augustum and their cronies here have released pamphlets of their own. This place is becoming too dangerous for those who would oppose them." A sigh, "Have not these people heard of what Rome does to its vassals? The Legion will absorb us all if they grow too powerful; the greater will absorb the lesser."

And with that, Marcus Antonius Junior would walk over to Nate and Sedna. "I've already sent a message via one of my estate's carrier pigeons to the 'New Roman Republic' Caravan we encountered a few weeks back. We meet up with them now; I know a side passage."

Sedna nodded, and said, "You give directions, Junior; I'll take point - I'm the most agile of you all."

So the escape from Augustum began, with Nathaniel and Sedna taking off their helmets and going off!

Caleb was inconspicuously waiting at the meeting place which was near the marketplace where the caravan that he convinced to hire him and "his friends was. Still he was keeping watch for any sign of trouble while Nathaniel was coming. Though Caleb could not keep stop feeling dread about what happened. Not so much the news he spead had failed or he had to help someone escape the city. He dreads what will happen to him once he gets home and reports back. He knows or has a idea of what will happen considering..... his cover blowed hour one and not even having a clue to who Nathaniel works for. Caleb took a long breath and coldy said under his breath, "At least the Republic will have it's info about the two Romes".

Nathaniel, Sedna, and Marcus managed to arrive safely, albeit only Sedna was not out of breath. Hopefully, the running would at least train their bodies' dexterity. Getting on Caleb's carriage, the trio took a split-second to make themselves comfortable even as the sight of torches in the shadows spoke of patrols coming closer to the area; they had to leave soon.

Caleb upon seeing the trio arrive safely, he got the leader caravaneer's attention and gave a thumbs up. The caravaneer gave a relived but, slightly annoyed face and he let out a sharp whistle. The caravan started moving a moment later and Caleb joined the trio in the carriage. "I see you are all here and it turns out the guy in charge of this also wants to leave fast". "Different reasons but, it works out for us".

A nod of thanks. "Thank you for this; I know I made you sacrifice a lot. Either way, drop us off at San Antonio, that, and we can talk about compesation later."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fort Leonard Wood National Park, Park Missouri
Captain Anna Tiburs and the rest of the 2nd Legion were busy surrounding the Rider's base camp in the park. The Riders that were captured in the ambush before were "convinced" to tell them where their camp was in the park. Now knowing where the camp was, it was just making sure the Riders are not longer a threat. Anna had ordered a surprised attack on the camp with the 2nd surrounding the camp to make sure that the Riders could not escape. So the 2nd was successfully surrounding the camp and the Riders were none the wiser as they were still relaxing in camp. Once Anna received the confirmation on her radio that the camp was firmly encircled, she gave the order to attack. The Riders were surprised as it seem to them the forest around the camp started shooting. The battle was lasted for a bit before the Riders were no more. With being surrounded and taking off guard, the Riders did not last long. Their horses managed to the battle, though few in number. Anna decided on taking them with the 2nd after they secured the camp. They would be dropped off at Rolla and after reporting back by radio to command about eliminating the Riders. Anna was ordered to bring her forces back to Fort Scott.

The rest of the Legions were still drilling there and rest of the Army were preparing for the big drive. The 2nd Legion will be joining them now that the Riders are gone. Hopefully no more raiders will get in the way Army's planning of the big drive.

by **Parcia** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 12:20 am

Westpoint, old
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZXRzZi8Xuc
Wodin, All-Father, Far Wanderer, bring us that which we seek, the knowledge to continue as our ancestors did so long ago. Give us the strength and courage to make our way in the ancient paths followed by those before us. Teach us that which we do not know and show us that which we do not see. For upon our dying day, we shall seek the Valkyrie to carry us to the Great Feasting Hall in Valhalla so that we may celebrate with those who came before us. Hail Wodin, All-Father

The prayer would go out as a near silent whisper, every man and women of the 400 raiders spoke it, as it was the Clan's Warprayer to the gods, their one true sovereign request of the gods. Each raider wore the leather armor of the clan, blackend with soot and oil to hide them. Their shields, weapons, and other normally shining bits were also blackened to avoid catching the few glints of light that arose from the settlement of Westpoint. Under the new moon, the attack would be perfect.

Tera stood on the bow of the lead rowboat, nearly 40 or so silently gliding through the placid water towards the slumbering compound. She clutched her sword in one hand, her shield in the other, the automatic 10mm pistol holstered at her hip. The boats were to split in to two groups, 20 would go around to the east, while 20 would go around the west and encircle the enemy in their compound.

How ever, somthing had to happen first...

As the boats slid on the beach, the raiders stepped lightly, not speaking and using simple hand signals to move forward under the cover of darkness. As they crawled through the undergrowth, They came to with in a few hundred feet of the outer bunkers, newly built, relatively compared to the rest of the buildings, they were odd things, thrown together with scrap metal and stone. The intel gathered months before hand told them of light defenses, and for the supposed training base for these "Regulators" it was disappointing, to say the least.

Then she heard it, the distinctive sound as the mortars on the Thor fired off their first rounds, the pyrotechnic charges going off at thier highest arc, sending out bright flashes of red and green. Then, with the closest of the shore defenses lit up, and the sounds of startled men ringing out over the night, the canons opened fire, sending 4 round bursts of 40mm HE-frag in tot he watch towers.

for now, the raiders waited as the fleet engaged.

by **Northern Poland** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 11:02 am

Fairhope, Republic of Orange Beach
100 Men, taken from many areas of the Republic prepare for a move. They are Armed with 9 Hunting Rifles, 25 AK47s, 30 FALS, 30 M16s, 3 MG4s,2 PK Machine Guns, and one RPG. 80 of them Begin their March to the Highway that connects the East Side to Mobile. They Would be led By General Thomas Newell, and he would have Salvaged Power Armor with him. The 3 Patrol Boats would head over to the bridge with 20 of the 100 men for a Attack from behind if needed. They also had 2 brahmin to carry Supplies and Sandbags.

Highway 10, Unexplored Territory
The Company would arrive at the Highway, and begin setting up fortifications. They Set up all the machine guns at choke points, with the 1st Gulf Shores Militia Platoon hiding behind wrecked cars for a surprise attack. The 80 men hide behind any cover they find, and the RPG is set up with the Machine Gunners. The Howitzer at fort freedom would be moved to Fairhope so it could supply artillery barrages at Mobile. The PT boats would prepare 2 Dinghys to bring the soldiers ashore. The First Barrage would start in 10 hours, Starting.... Now.

by **Elerian** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 4:30 pm

Collab between Theyra and Elerian

The storm raged outside as the Mayor, named Landry Marsh, and the mysterious Doctor waited it out in his office. His companions had left him in the care of the good Doctor to look for food, water, and blankets. While they were gone, Landry had an opportunity to catch his breath and thank the woman for her help. He sat up from where he lay across his desk, inspecting the Doctor a moment before speaking.

"From your accent, I gather that you aren't from around here. Someone with your talent, I sure hope you're fixing to settle down in the Commonwealth. We can never have enough Doctors. If not, I hope you don't mind me asking what it is you're doing so far from home?"

Landry moved himself so that he was sitting on the edge of the desk, and looked expectantly at the Doctor.

"You are right, I am not from here". Viria said in a serious tone and stood formal distance from the mayor. "I from someplace up the Mississippi River called the New Roman Republic". I thought I would have to wait longer to get a opportunity to speak with a official of the Gulf Commonwealth". Viria formally bowed to mayor and spoke in a rather formal tone. "My name is Viria Primus and I am a representative of the New Roman Republic". "I apologize for unannounced visit but, it was decided that this would be best considering the reason why I was sent here". Viria looked in her doctor bag and pulled papers from a hidden pouch in it. "For the Republic is concerned about developments from a nearby republic". "The Tennessee Republic and I am sure you know of them"

Landry was taken quite aback. This afternoon just kept getting more exciting, and not altogether in a good way. First his afternoon ride had been thwarted by a storm. Then that very same storm had made his horse throw him from the saddle. Now this. An agent of some far off nation, masquerading as a Doctor, was here to negotiate with the Commonwealth. An exciting day indeed.

After a few seconds of stunned silence Landry finally spoke, "we know well of our northern neighbors. Though, they have not always been the most welcoming." Landry thought to himself for a few moments. He wasn't really in a position to speak on behalf of the whole Commonwealth, but he could get in touch with someone that could.

In a few days time a representative from Orlando had arrived to speak with Viria. Landry had done his utmost to maintain Viria's disguise while she remained in his care. For her help during the storm, he made her an honored guest in his home until an Agent of Orlando came. It would appear as though he was only paying back her generosity in kind.

Once a diplomat finally arrived, talks were held at Landry's house. An agreement was to be had between the Commonwealth and the NRR to the north. An agreement that bound their two fates together, at least for the time being.

Collab between Ralnis and Elerian

As the Ghoul guard saw the badge, there was a silence for about a minute. He walked out with his partner behind the reinforced steel door. Harsh whispers are heard overhead and after a few more minutes the door opened. A man came through, he wore a suit with the same 10mm in one hand and the badge another. He sat down and looked at the badge.

"My name is Sunrey, I'm that 'higher payroll' that your looking for. My question is simple, why is a Floridian come all this way through Commie lands to the Appalachian Wasteland?"

The Agent waited patiently for the arrival of someone who could treat with him on behalf of the legendary Mothmen of Appalachia. When one finally arrived he was mildly surprised to see that he openly carried a firearm. Things really were done very differently this far north, the Agent thought. He listened to what the man had to say, but instead of saying anything, he put his still bound hands on the table as a sort of reply. Only once they were unbound did he say his peace.

"It's simple really. We Gulf men believe there is value if we came to an unspoken agreement between our two peoples. We have come to believe that we share a common rivalry with the Washingtonians and Unionists that we each share a border with. Should conflict arise, we think it would be prudent to align against this common threat."

The Agent leaned forward slightly, eager to hear what the other man had to say in reply.

" It is true we have a sort of rivalry with the two states, more so the Union than Washingtonians by I digress. The Commies have been eyeing us for quite some time, mostly to get to our fabled factories to feed their Commie agenda. But I didn't think the Evergreens would care for some 'crazy mountain hicks' but we've heard some numbers about your tensions with them."

The man shakes his head," I guess we can support each other, though I doubt how much support you can send against our east as so much our south, where they have an army right up on our mountain border. They think that sending so much will crush our spirit, but numbers are only good for rats and rabbits, things that are in short number here in this corner of the wasteland."

The Agent smiled a warmly. It seemed as though he was getting through to them. Despite their differences, it was nice to see that they could find some common ground over their mutual distaste for the Unioners and Washingtonians.

"In Orlando, we too have the same problem with the both of them. They covet what they see beyond their own borders and will stop at nothing short of a bloodbath before they see their ambitions realized. For this reason, we had hoped you would be willing to come to a mutual agreement over our shared rabble rousing neighbors."

And so it was virtually decided then and there in that dimly lit, concrete room. The Commonwealth and Mothmen had bridged a seemingly insurmountable divide that separated the two powers. In their best interest they would be united against a common foe.

Port Canaveral, Clan Delegation

Ahab motioned for the men to follow him to a nearby pavilion, hastily set up for the occasion. Ahab had been instructed not to bring them into the Port, both so they wouldn’t try to gather intelligence, but also as a slight. It was estimated that hundreds of Commonwealth citizens had been abducted or killed by Clansmen since they began raiding their coasts. The toll that had put on the Commonwealth had likely been felt in the lives of thousands more. One of the last things the Clansmen had said made an impact on Ahab.

“...the recognition of the Clan's land…”

It had more of an effect on Ahab than would have cared to admit, but he was an experienced diplomat. He hid his emotions well beneath the surface, and brought the men to the Pavillion. Light refreshments were already laid out around a table, and Ahab sat on one end while the foreigners sat on the other.

“You mentioned you had things you wanted to discuss? If you might lay them out one at a time, then we might be able to address your proposals.” Ahab looked at each of the men in turn, his best fake smile spread across his face.

by **Dragos Bee** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 5:04 pm

Nathaniel Green and his Companions

After giving Calvin 50 Silver Denarii as compensation for services rendered, Nathaniel and his group would wait, travel, and fight off the occassional desperate bandit until they got to the great metropolis of San Antonio, where the next stage of the fight against the Legion would be set. Once there, Nathaniel would let Sedna and Marcus (now Mark) exchange his great store of silver Denarii for caps at the nearest money changer; this was not cautious as it would alert any spy sent by the Legion of the trail of 'Tacitus Secundus', but the young man had to report to the NCR as soon as possible. That meant going into REM sleep; dreaming.

And so, in a traveller's homestead, Nathaniel reported to the NCR: On first impression, San Antonio seems like a large and reasonably advanced city, the main marvel being the high walls, beyond which lies a city as advanced as Shady Sands itself, with electric lighting, a Zoo and two Museums, as well as a park that I intend to visit soon. From the gossip told by the Caravan I was with, San Antonio's dictatorship, though a dictatorship, is genuinely benevolent, and more importantly, is planning to resist the Legion; I heard about that in one of the caravan's stops. The people here are well-armed and well-trained, but actual military numbers are hard to come by when I've just come here.

An answer came into his mind, his NCR Superior voicing an opinion. The fact that the Legion had sent their 'Malpais Legate' to preserve their alliance with 'Augustum', and had to spend a hefty bribe besides, shows that your actions have shaken them. Nevertheless, you did the right thing, leaving that city; an Agent should not let attachments get in the way of...everything. Will you continue your activities as Tacitus Secundus?

The reply was, Yes, sir. I already have another idea of what to write.

One Week Later

One of San Antonio's publishing houses, one with a pre-war printer, to boot, was now publishing a tract in Latin and English called: An Open Letter to the Senate and People of Augustum, by Tacitus Secundus.

Friends, Augustans, Citizens, you stand now on the brink of danger. Tracts have been published supposedly debunking my claims, yet the fact remains that the reality is much different from what those who wish to slumber in complacency wish it is. No amount of gold can completely obscure the rapacity of the Legion, no amount of sophistry can wholly erase the signs that they are merely biding their time. The honeyed words of the Malpais Legate and the gold his spies have brought will not magically justify the fact that to them, humane behavior is only for exceptional circumstances, an expident, granted only when they need people's silence or have them so completely in their power that 'benevolence' is only another form of condescension.

Do not listen to their charges against the Twisted Hairs; their truth matters less than their attempts to justify their gleeful infliction of suffering. Do not listen to their accusations against Amarilio; even when they speak the truth about the 'Morgan Domain', does that actually justify their replacement of one brutal system with another? And finally, Do not listen to those of you who say that Caesar will not end your laudable Freedom of Religion as he would have done it by now - He was merely busy with other conquests! Do you not see? Caesar's Legion is a threat to your way of life, as much as he is a threat to all nations that live in Texas! Wake up, Grand City of Augustum, wake up!

Nathaniel, Sedna, and Marcus would also be looking for smugglers willing to go into Augustum and distribute copies of these papers. If they find them, they would pay a full 1400 caps for smuggling these papers into Augustum.

Then, they would buy medical supplies; Stimpaks, Rad-X, RadAway, and Med-X.

by **Holy Lykos** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 6:40 pm

Southern Sunrise

"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
-Dylan Thomas

While the Quetzalcoatl airport had seen better days in the last several hundred years, the vibrant and ecstatic music radiating from it certainly was an improvement on the gloom of Laredo. The city had been on the forefront of conflict between Mexico and the United States pre-war and the swiftness of the Great War put reconstruction on indefinite hold. The airstrip was a bombed out mess, but most of the terminal still being intact provided more than adequate shelter for all the Nahua tribes. Someone, perhaps centuries ago, had circled the hulks of rusting airships near the exit to the airstrip to create walls and now the newest residents were using the walls to put on a celebration of their survival across the arid desert. Smoke and music rose into the night, alongside happy voices and shouts. The visages of the god of civilization itself, Quetzalcoatl had a new coat of paint along the interiors of the aircraft walls, with dozens of people passing by to add handprints under to mark their presence here. Not really traditional, but some kids had started to and adults followed suit.

All in all, it was making the Huetlahtoani wonder if they had already found a place to make home. As she watched over her celebrating people from the still-standing control tower of the airport, she absentmindedly chewed at pieces of jerky while thinking about their situation.

The Rio Grande, while not as clean as it might have been before the war, was a quality river. The sludge of pollution was being washed to sea, and their basic tests were telling them it was fairly free of radiation. A clean source of water. The Twin Cities were even mostly abandoned, with only small pocket communities or families remaining in suburbs and the city center. Farms stretched up and down the river to either side, small familial affairs trying to subsist in the wastes and arid lands. The Jaguars were clearing out raider nests with the intention of proving to these people the Aztlaners meant well, too. Some of the Mexicano had requested to join, especially ones with Nahua or Mayan heritage. The river was a barrier between their current camp and Texas itself, with remaining bridges providing fortification points.

But, Xiuhcoatl was wondering if this truly felt like home. Perhaps not. No revelation from Hueyzotzin had come, nor the other gods. Quetzalcoatl's sign here may be one, but she wondered if it just meant they were on the right track? The plains were more fertile than Laredo, and the Great Mississippi was too far... Perhaps the territory of Oklahoma? She remembered reading a surviving history book discussing the seclusion of numerous indigenous tribes in Oklahoma before it was meant to become a state. Perhaps they would welcome a chance to reclaim their homelands too?

They would know in the morning, most likely. When scouts returned to them from along the Interstates and Highways. They had only been here a week, so the scouts couldn't have ranged too far. Whomever didn't return would be telling in its own right. A half dozen Jaguar warriors going across the Grand River and exploring both countryside and roads for any major settlements and peoples. The people in Laredo had heard of large cities and states far away, but given there was little to trade and the poor state of Laredo, they had little information other than they existed.

Hopefully they all managed to return safely enough. Any further musing on the Huetlahtoani's part was disrupted by a knock on the door, and the creak of long-rusted hinges as it gently swung open.

"Xiuh, you spend too much time thinking. It is time to relax and celebrate our Exodus." Quetzchi, leader of the Hummingbirds, spoke as he shouldered through the door and into her perch. The room had been used as a council chambers for the meetings of the rebuilding government of Aztlan since arriving in Laredo, yet so far it had primarily been simply checking on supplies and people to keep things in order. They hadn't been able to expand beyond that scope since before the exodus from Mexico City.

The Aztlaner leader shook her head. She turned to look at her friend, frowning. "It isn't over yet, Quetzchi. We may be reclaiming our identity and personage and freedom, but we have yet to find a home. I'm beginning to get a plan, but we first must cross the plains and arid lands of Texas. Preferably without conflict."

"Even then, time to relax is good. Come." He offered her a hand, which after a measure of deliberation, she took in her own.

"Fine. We can discuss our peoples' future in the Morning."

by **The Manticoran Empire** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 7:21 pm

Bowling Green, Kentucky
The surrender offer had been refused. The Army had been successful at cutting off supplies and it didn't appear that any of Bowling Green's allies were coming to rescue them. The Army had built several towers around the settlement, allowing artillery observers to find targets for the mortars. The 120s, 81s, and 60s had been shelling important parts of Bowling Green, such as the city hall, their defensive formations, and other areas. The mortars had launched several bombs and smoke still rose over the town. Colonel Dalton gathered his subordinates and they discussed their plan. Their attack would begin in the early hours the following day with a brutal barrage of mortars on the town's fortifications. When the assault troops got close enough, the mortars would stop, allowing the troops to storm the town and deal with Bowling Green.

During the night the soldiers stocked up on ammunition and grenades. They sharpened their bayonets and trench spades. Many placed brass knuckles under their gloves and made Molotov cocktails. They were determined to take the settlement and take it quickly.

by **Northern Poland** » Sat Apr 07, 2018 8:32 pm

Highway 10 Entrance to mobile, Republic of Coastal States
The Scout says into the handheld radio, "fire 3 shells at 30.6954° N, 88.0399° W, fire for damage, fire for damage, Over." The Gunner says Back "Copy, firing at 30.6954° N, 88.0399° W for damage, find cover." The scout runs back to the line of defense, as 3 shells rain down upon the small checkpoint of 15 men and the surrounding barracks. The Soldiers stationed their are all dead or severely wounded. a Survivor yells, "We need reinforcements at Highway 10 Now, we have attackers!"

30 Minutes Later.
A Force of 100 RCS soldiers approach the barricades, and they don't open fire.. Yet. They move close enough to the Gulf Shores platoon that they open fire, killing 7 in the first volley of shots. The MG4 opens up at the soldiers, killing another 8. The general shoots a man with his laser rifle, and kills the man. The Soldiers respond with a few laser musket shots, killing 2 men from the Gulf shores platoon. The MG4 takes another volley, killing 5. Fireteam Charlie, armed with FALs take on a group of 10 killing or wounding all of them.

Meanwhile, Edwards National Airport
The Crew of the Vertibird scramble, along with 5 police. They begin to take off, armed with 2 makeshift rockets and a minigun.They begin their flight over to the battle, as people cheer them on.

Private Jefferson, Gulf Shores Platoon
The Private cowers, as his sergeant yells at him "Private! Give these people what they need, Some Lead!" The private gets up, and shoots and kills a person with his Hunting rifle. He sees a hand grenade thrown at him, and throws it back at the attackers, killing 2 people. Another Private stands up to shoot someone, but gets his head blown off from a laser Musket.The MG4 behind him opens up, killing 4 attackers. The Private sees a rocket launcher fire, killing a machine gun crew of 5.

10 Minutes Later, Officer Jenkins
The officer sees the battle, and he aims the Minigun, and sprays a crowd on 7, killing 3. 1 Rocket fires, blowing up a supply truck that was carrying heavy equipment for the enemies. The Vertibird comes down, letting off the other 4 police to help, 3 of the 4 being medics. The vertibird goes back to base for refueling.

Naval landing force
the 20 men get on 2 dinghys, and come ashore quietly. They move up the hill, and get behind the enemies. The Sergeant sets up the MG4, and unleashes a attack on the unsuspecting enemies, killing 10 men, while wounding 5. The enemies returned heavy fire, killing 5 men. Enemies from another platoon show themselves behind them, and kill 3 men before being driven back. They hide in a corner made by destroyed cars, firing at anything that moves.

Rocket Team
The Man using the RPG stands up, he aims at a car that has a group of 7 around it. he fires, taking out the car and everyone around it. 30 Men charge, routing the remaining troops off the Highway. But then a Heavy from the enemy team comes up with a gatling laser, killing 25 men before being killed.

After Battle Report
Over All Gulf Shores Victory
75 Enemies Killed
41 Men Lost
7 Men Wounded (Not in the post though)
1 Enemy Truck destroyed
10 Enemies Captured
15 enemies escaped
100 More on their way to kill the ROB soldiers
Radio Station, ROB
The President turns on the microphone, as the tech team hacks into radios in Mobile. The President Gives these Terms of Cooperation And Annexation:

Section 1: The Republic of Coastal States gives all of its Land to the Republic Of Orange Beach.
Section 2: The Entire Army will join the Republic of Orange Beach, and will provide at least 75 new recruits
Section 3: The USS Alabama will be repaired, and will try to be put back in working order as a Tourist Ship, Because the Main guns are In Disrepair, it may be rearmed with lesser caliber weapons
Section 4: All Factories will begin to Produce goods for the Nation
Section 5: All Citizens will Be granted Citizenship, and all Diplomats will remain in office, but the President will become a Govoner
Section 6: The Republic will give all Knowledge to the Republic Of Orange Beach
Section 7: The Ports will be re-used as Naval bases for construction of New Ships
Section 8: All Air Power will be given Over
Section 9: All Police Units will be sworn in as Militia or Orange Beach Police
Section 10: The Republic Of Orange Beach Will be Renamed The Union Of Coastal Alabama
Section 11: Re-Construction of the Area Will Begin.
Signed By President Johnson Carter

They Just threw this out their if they ever wanted to Surrender.

Fallout: South the Mason [IC Thread]

Part 2 -Chapter 3 - The Raindrop War/Lake Medina Scandal

EVENT!

The Wild Hunt: In to the Breech

battle Of Mobile Part 1

Who is online