[Forum Game] Fallout Realism: II

[Lonelylurker]

Joseph stood at the spot on the intersection in the northern ruins of Vegas, alone except for Dr Gannon at his side and the squad of cloaked Nightkin in sniper positions in case the Legion tried anything. As Chase's immediate superiors, who had been under orders to keep the boy safe and not let him run off like this, Marcus had sent them to make the exchange personally.

The Legioneers marched up in parade formation and the one with the fancy helmet had 2 slaves deposit a litter with Chase's badly beaten body in the middle of the intersection.

"Check him over doc"

"First the money freak" Demended Sideways-Crest.

"First we make sure the merchandise is worth it pipsqueak"

The commander, who was easily the biggest man in his squad, flushed angrily and his hand went to his sword, until he realized that his own men were edging away from him nervously.

"Go"

He snapped at the slaves, who were only to happy to be as far away as possible.

DR Gannon knelt down beside Chase and gave him the once over.

"Concussion, several broken ribs, possible spinal trauma, and a broken finger. He'll live, barely."

Joseph handed over the sack of Caps. Helmet boy snapped his fingers, presumably for the slaves, then remembered they were gone. After a moment one of the troops stepped forward and took the sack in his arms.

Helmet tried for a parting shot:

"You were very foolish to come with only this one profligate weakling for aid. Were it not for the honor of the Legion you would be dead by now."

Dr Gannon quickly got himself and Chase behind a ruined wall.

Joseph turned around slowly, fingers closing on the grip of the Mini gun strapped to his left arm.

"You want to Dance pretty boy?"

The... Centurion, that was what these Romans-retreads called it, paled, flushed, and ground his teeth.

"I am sworn to return immediately with the ransom."

There was an audible snicker from one of the rankers, the Centurion decapitated the closest man in one stroke, though Joseph didn't that was the snickerer, and marched his squad back the way they came. When they were out of sight Dr Gannon asked:

"That was totally unlike you Joseph, what's going on?"

"Strategic misinformation Doc, all the Legion knows about Mutants is that everyone says we're 'Big, dumb, and violent'. Now that's 'confirmed' in their local commanders mind. So if we ever have to fight him he'll underestimate us."

Joseph checked his watch.

"Group B report!"

Three nightkin appeared(literally) out of the shadows, one carrying a sack with the Boomers vault number stenciled on it.

"This is what he had on him at time of capture sir."

"It better be worth it"

Chase groaned and opened his eyes.

"What... happened..."

"You're safe, and in SO much trouble..."

 

[Stolpman]

The General had his men look over the damages caused by the attack, while he didn't have much sympathy for those jet cooks he had lost, he had lost a tremendous deal of profit and even worse, respect within his own organisation. If it was the Van Graffs or The Bishops didn't matter much to him, both crime families were scum and could've easily have done it. His suspicions were leaning at both sides but he knew that just dealing with one side wouldn't be a proper long term solution, no, a half-measure isn't what he was looking for.

New Reno, divaded by the two families, a former jewell of decadence where the famlies once had their own say about things without NCR involvement, Chocolaté never really had any intrest in the city but the revenues of jet trafficking here was without a doubt unmatched by any single place in New California. It wouldn't be easy fighting them on their own turf but a quick response was needed, to let them know that the General doesn't accept this type of aggresion against his business. A plan was hatched, inspired by the ruthlessness of the Legion during the war.

The General dispatched his very finest, men who could've become rangers but had gotten snubbed after the psychological evaluations or because of scandalous behaviour during ranger training. They had all conquered the physical challenges of ranger training but had no real sense of purpose in their life after getting denied, the General had taken them in, putting them on his criminal payroll. These hand-picked soldiers were assigned to placing and detonating several high powered explosives in Bishops properties such as the Shark club and energy weapon retail places owned by the Van Graffs. As the legion did during the war, several jet heads were rounded up and strapped with explosive vests, doped up on chems they were each dropped off at a rivaling criminal syndicate property, their vests were to detonate remotely.

The General dispatched his orders with ease and after a day of planning he was more than happy to return to his home, where he enjoyed a nice glass of scotch, awaiting word from his men.

 

[Maxwell500]

Fausto "Rey Del Sur" Díaz​

Age: 52 (2248)
Faction: The Holy Land
Position: Jefe of the Campeche Cartel

Born the son of impoverished peasants on the outskirts of Campeche, then ruled by a cabal of local gangsters who held a tight grip through fear and intimidation, the young Fausto spent his formative years laboring away on the family's small farm until his association with a number of unsavory characters drew him into the city's underground. A bright young man with ambitions and a ruthless desire to better himself he quickly rose up the ladder of one of Campeche's largest and fiercest gangs, Hijos de San José, and by 2282 he had risen to leadership over not only the gang but also of Campeche.

In what was called the 'Noche Sangre', Fausto would lead the Hijos to massacre the other gang leaders at one of the nightly gatherings as well as hunt down his fiercest opponents, securing the city for himself and also growing the Hijos to an unprecedented size with the amalgamation of the surviving gangsters: they would not last as such long however, soon becoming the Campeche Cartel. His new cartel would sweep out from the actual city and bring much of the actual province of Campeche under his control. His rule was a benevolent one, so long as 'tribute' was paid and the farmers manufactured enough cocaine (as he had set many to do after his take over). Through the years his wealth and power grew and with it his greed and desire for luxury: he would move into the dilapidated Fort San Miguel and bask it in luxury: soon earning him the nickname 'Rey Del Sur', King of the South.

This would change with the arrival of the Legions of the Faithful under Dean Domino in 2298: although Fausto attempted to put up a resistance at first he quickly found he was powerless to stop such a large and zealous force and to his anguish he surrendered the cartel's territories to the Holy Land's authority and after further harassment much of his properties and assets. Downsized and having had the embarrassment of surrender he quickly found his cartel shrinking and whatever influence he had in shreds. Nonetheless he was committed to rising once again and having made further deals with Dean Domino he provided his cartel's manpower in the fight against Yucatan's Mayan guerrillas.

For the last decade the Campeche Cartel has operated in a sense as a private army for the Holy Land and Fausto has made whatever profits he can in the peninsula's drug trades (however limited and prohibited it is by the fanatics), his servitude having secured at least somewhat of a blind eye. With the rise of a new leader over the Holy Land however, things could change for the King of the South, for better or for worse...

((IC Character))

 

[XVG]

Ghouls, tornadoes or radiation couldn’t stop Mr. Williams and the caravan from reaching Chicago. This was the city where Jacob had spent most of his childhood, the city where he started his business career, albeit as a petty thief. Chicago had a population in tens of thousands, quite remarkable for the post-apocalyptic world. And just like in the days Jacob had lived there, the underworld was still strong enough deep behind the backs of the Brotherhood patrols. Shady businesses, smugglers and minor gangs could be found, especially from the poorer and less developed neighborhoods. A slum was maybe a more fitting word for them. In one of those lived Connor Young. A shopowner in his thirties, he had run into quite some trouble with a few contenders, and was coerced into paying protection money for his continued existence. That had caused considerable financial hardships for him. Lucky for him, he happened to be a childhood ‘friend’ of Mr. Williams. Well, at least he knew him somewhat.

After arriving in the city itself, the caravan group and Jacob had taken residence in one of the better taverns of the city. It could maybe even be called a proper hotel. Certainly far above anything Dog Town or Junction City had. From his rooms at the residence, Jacob organized a large scale business initiation in Chicago. He toured the main markets, shops and trading places, bought warehouses and prepared new caravans towards Junction City and Minnesota. Then one evening, he decided to go and look into the affairs of the slums on the edges of the city.

Arriving to the shadowy area that even the Brotherhood soldiers liked to dodge, Jacob started to look for the area he had lived in. However, the ‘urban’ environment had changed drastically. New hovels and shacks had popped up here and there, and everything looked completely different. Tumbling around the alleys, he finally bumped into something familiar. Or someone.

“Jacob? Is that you? Well, well, look what the world brought home!”

“Hello Connor, good to see you, I guess. What has happened? This place looks completely different nowadays. Has it been that long?”

“I think so, you have been away for years. Population growth has been immense, and as the city center keeps getting more and more expensive and cleaner, all the shady and poor folks end up driven into these slums. But come, I can offer you a drink at my shop.”

“You have a shop here? Good to know that you are having a legitimate business.” Jacob laughed for a bit, remembering that he used to steal all kinds of little things from the man as a boy. “You know that, Connor? I am a businessman too. You might have heard of the arrival of the ‘Mid-West Bazaars’ caravan? Well, I am running the whole show.”

The men entered the shop, which had the simple name ‘Merchandise’. Jacob looked around for a moment. The place wasn’t that great, mostly filled with various old junk. Dust and dirt was everywhere, and the windows of the hovel had recently been broken. “Oh well, looks like hard times, eh? What’s going on here anyway?”

“Well guess: crime of course! This is basically the underworld of the city, but I guess you remember that too. Yeah, shady people means shady business. My rivals have teamed up against me, and have forced me to pay them protection money. I failed to pay in time, and as a warning their hired cronies had the windows broken. If things follow the usual cycle, they will try to burn the place down today or tomorrow. I guess you realize what this means for my business? I hardly earn enough to feed myself nowadays.”

Jacob sipped the water he had been offered. It actually tasted decent and clean. “Well then, I have an offer to you. I will have a few of my guards stand duty here, protect the business, help you out and so on. But in return, you will become a representative for my business in this place. No, actually, let’s make it the whole town. Better buy some better clothes for that from me first. You will handle caravans, you will handle storage, you will handle making clear notes of every transaction. I assume I can trust you, Connor?”

“Well if I am going to trust you, you little thief, then I guess you can trust me too. It’s a deal Jacob. Thanks for helping me out.” The men shook their hands. “All right, then let’s get right into business, list me the best marketplaces, best brokers and the most crooked smugglers of this town:”
_ _ _ _

After staying with Mr. Young for a few hours, Jacob arrived back at his quarters and summoned the caravan guards and other aides for a business strategy meeting. The sales so far had been great, and Jacob had made enough coins to afford a grand caravan needed for a travel further East. This time the goal would be Motown. But first, things had to be secured in Chicago.

“Roberts, find out if the Brotherhood has some important leaders in the city itself. Go figured out who they are, and then arrange a meeting between me and them. If they aren’t interested, their bad. I will just continue off East even faster. You may go now. Actually, everyone apart for you.” Jacob pointed at the brutest and most stern-looking of his hired guards. “Sanchez, you go and hire some thugs and go to the slums. Find a shop called ‘Merchandise’ owned by one Connor Young. Have the place burnt down, but make sure the man stays alive. He will be your new chief here. The man needs a proper wake up to his new life as a ‘Mid-West Bazaars’ representative. And thus that hovel has to go. And remember, this stays between us. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

 

[baboushreturns]

The update has been fully posted Orders due on the 19th. Stats will be updated in the coming days.

 

[baboushreturns]

Stats have been finished begin sending orders and doing ic. Orders are due the 19th.

 

[Galren]

Somewhere in South Carolina ...

Facade wasn't a happy mutant. The first battle with the Army of the Gulf States, as the rumors say where these troops are from, would certainly be a learning experience for him. He knew that this Army easily outnumbered his forces, and that was only half his army. Who knows how many more there are and how many the Super Mutants were able to kill? Facade certainly didn't stop and take a count of how many dead bodies there were. They were outnumbered and the enemy had the element of surprise.

Slaves. There's a reason why Facade is only interested in the amount of kills the Super Mutants scored. The slaves were sent into panic by the Gulf States snipers and artillery. It was every man for himself, apparently, as they ducked for cover and ran for their lives until a Super Mutant pulled them down. In short, they were absolutely useless in the fight except as a distraction for the Gulf States to fire at.

The Super Mutants stood their ground and fought fiercely. It's just that there was 2,000 Super Mutants and there were way more Gulf States soldiers. They were at least better trained than the slaves. For the powerhouse that a Super Mutant is, it's hard to deal with getting swarmed.

It wasn't just the Gulf States that were bothering him, though. The DCC had destroyed the Enclave. And Facade knows what will happen next. Emboldened by their victory, the DCC would move on to other targets. Sooner or later, Facade and his Super Mutants will be targeted. The status quo just won't do. There has to be change. Drastic change.

 

[simcull]

Decimus Claudius Drusus, Prefect of the Praetorian Legion stood behind the former Centurion of the II Century. He stood with a machete bloodied by the internal organs of the former Centurion, with a grim expression on his face. His eyes however, showed a light of excitement, which gave the Prefect a crazy look on his face. Decimus lifted his head, and nodded at the Princeps. The dark light of the tent cast shadows that lengthed the Prefect’s face, which added to his crazy appearance.

Decimus kneels, and lowers his head. “Princeps, it is done.”

Claudius was grinning like a madman, pistol still in hand as he stared at the slumped over corpse of the centurion he shot, head still dripping blood. When the Prefect spoke, the Princeps blinked rapidly a couple times, grin fading, seemingly breaking out of his trance-like state.

“Indeed. It’s a good thing these bastards have been taken care of.” The ruler spoke, before beckoning towards a few praetorians at the tent’s entrance. “I want to see these centurions’ bodies decapitated and their headless corpses put on the cross. Immediately.”

Drusus motioned with his hand, letting the Praetorians know that they can follow the Princeps’ orders. They rushed forward and dragged the bodies out of the tent, with a look of disgust on their faces.

“This will make a great example among the soldiers, my Princeps. They will finally begin to understand discipline. “ The Prefect begins cleaning the blood off his sword with his garb. “However, we still are not sure of the Magister Militum’s fate. So we must not begin celebrating yet, my liege.”

The Princeps exhaled loudly. “I suppose. But I agree, Decimus, this will certainly help with the men’s discipline. Like the Legions of Vetus Roma, no?”

“I agree, lord Princeps. I have a list of qualified men that would take the place of these incompetent fools that I would like for you to look over. They will be loyal to Nova Roma, and most of all, they know how to fight. Our men are not fools my liege, they are just junkies who need some ‘forceful’ pushing to reach their peak. Howe-” The Prefect is cut off by a Praetorian who bursts into the tent, bloody sword in hand.

The runner, out of breath, salutes. “Lord Prefect, Slavko Bulbus is dead.”

Decimus smiles, and salutes the Praetorian. “You are dismissed Praetorian. I want to see you and your comrades in my office for a debriefing tomorrow. However, get some sleep. “ The Praetorian exits the tent and the Prefect turns towards the Princeps. “It seems we are victorious, my Princeps.”

“Indeed it does, Prefect.” Responded Claudius, “Now tell me, who are these replacements for the centurions you speak of?”

“Proculus Aedinius Calpurnis, Gaius Tanicius Micon, Hostus Nipius Minianus, and Caius Allectius Verinus. All good men, who fought for us during our forced exile from Vault 191. They have experience fighting the socialists, ghouls, and are some of the first citizens of Nova Roma. These men would make perfect replacements for the Centurion class.” The Prefect swallows, and continues. “Additionally my Princeps, with the death of the Magister Militum, Nova Roma no longer has a commander of the military. I would like to offer my services in that role, my liege. I am a loyal subject, and I wish for Nova Roma to reclaim Vault 191 and the city that the socialists stole from us. Would you accept me, Decimus Claudius Drusus as Magister Militum, my great Princeps?” Decimus kneels, and lowers his head in respect to the Princeps.

The Princeps smiled. It was a sincere one, much warmer than the unnerving ones exhibited in the past. “I, Princeps Claudius Rufus Tiber, ruler of Nova Roma, chosen successor of the holy Lucius Claudius Agrippa, hereby declare you, Decimus Claudius Drusus, the new Magister Militum of Nova Roma.” Claudius spoke, authority ringing through his voice. “Funny,” he continued, “I was going to ask you if you had wished to take the position but you… Beat me to the punch.”

The newly made Magister Militum rose, and stood straighter than before, with a more authoritarian air around him. “I, Magister Militum Decimus Claudius Drusus, servant of the successor to Lucius Claudius Agrippa, swear to serve Nova Roma to the best of my ability. Long live Nova Roma!” Drusus salutes smartly, and walks off.

 

[Captain Ozwin]

HOME AWAY FROM HOME​

During the trip back to Jacobstown Chase was unconscious for a few hours then his eyes opened when he felt the familiar cold and a snow flake landed on forehead, he had trouble moving his neck and heard the two nightkins footsteps as they carried him on a stretcher "Dr Gannon!" Chase called out not knowing exactly where Gannon was.
Dr. Gannon replied." Right here kid." Chase couldn't turn his head but figured Dr.Gannon was to his right. "Hey when we get back to Hopevile, I'm beating you at chess... also how mad is Marcus?" Chase watched the snow fall down it was peaceful but he had a lot of worry on his mind. "Well, he had to shell out 5000 caps to ransom you, so he's not happy about that. But the real problem is that you ran off, into hostile territory, without authorization, when he had EXPLICITLY ORDERED you to stay safe!"

Chase took a deep breath, and watched a few more snowflakes fall, he watched the tops of the snow covered trees go by "I'm sorry... I will make sure to pay Marcus back, I had made it in and out of Nellis before.. my luck ran out this last run." Dr.Gannon explained in a firm voice."You aren't just risking yourself anymore. Weather you realize it or not, by working in Hopeville you unavoidably see and hear things of a highly classified nature. Things that the Legion would have little trouble dragging out of your screaming body if they realized you knew them.... You violated his trust. Marcus would be mad even if you hadn't gotten caught."
Chase let it sink in "I understand...I only gave them my name, first and last, that I worked in Jacobstown and I was...Am...a Boomer... I would of let them kill me than give up anything else, I was really surprised that Marcus paid the ransom to be honest, I thought i was going to die at home." -Chase felt tears surfacing but held them back, as they reached Jacobstown.
"There are ways of making 'I'll die before I tell them anything' not an option Chase." Gannon shudders "I've seen some of them..Marcus wouldn't leave any of his people in Legion hands, but it'll be quite a while before you're allowed out alone I expect."
"Maybe I would of broke, maybe I wouldn't of...telling them the same thing over and over would either convenience them I really didn't know anything and helps keep a person from breaking , pre war soldiers did it with name rank and serial number... also that commander was a few good hits away from killing me if I kept pissing him off.... I'm thankful to be alive, and back."

Chase was brought inside the Lodge and was lowered down onto an old bed in the infirmary, he saw Calamity "Hey I stopped by for visit." he smiled then coughed up dry blood.
She didn't seem to think it was funny. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"Nice to see you to, its been a while I know." chuckles then coughs harder. "It hurts a lot more when I laugh... okay what was I thinking ? I was thinking I could stop by my old neighborhood and get a few things, don't go there by the way its a really bad part of town now, but I was trying to get spare parts and see if I could make another flight sim... I failed obviously." Chase attempted to lighten the stressful situation, he just got beat half to death and in the back of his mind awaiting a disappointed Marcus, he wasn't handling that thought well. "Marcus told you that if you absolutely *must* have something from Legion territory *let him know*!" Calamity holds up the sack "We have professionals for this sort of thing. Even if you absolutely had to be there in person, you would at least have had some guards and a backup extraction team on standby."

Chase took a deep breath closed his eyes then blinked a few times trying to stay focused and calm "Understood... I thought I could get in and get out , I didn't want to make it a huge operation and have someone getting killed for something I needed."
Calamity looked at Chase and spoke in a calmer tone. "I get it kid, but your life isn't entirely yours to risk anymore. Your expertise with simulator technology, and thousands of hours of flight experience, make you an important strategic asset. If Marcus thinks it's worth risking someone else's life to protect you then you're going to have to accept that."
Chase's hand tensed into a tight fist and one tear rolled out of his left eye, he exhaled slowly and thought it over, as he looked up at the ceiling "I never got the chance to thank you guys for giving me a home, alright I won't be so reckless anymore, Calamity can you do me a favor?"
She waited a moment. "What do you need?"
"Could you schedule a meeting with Marcus for me... I'd go talk to him in his office but, I might be a week late if he waits for me."
"Sure Chase, he's pretty busy right now so it may be a couple days, but he'll see you before you get shipped back to Hopeville."
"Thanks Calamity, you're the best." Chase closed his eyes and managed a light smile.

 

[Maxwell500]

Götterdämmerung Facility, Monolith Island, Technocracy of Massachusetts

The Doctor stared out at what seemed to be a boundless ocean, deep in thought on many things. Below him hundreds of the Technocracy's brightest minds alongside military officials scurried to continue setup of the new facility, Götterdämmerung or 'Twilight of the Gods', as the Doctor had decided to name it. His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a man in armor bearing the insignia of the Technocracy's Military Research Bureau and a single star upon each of his shoulders. Before the officer had even reached him the Doctor turned slowly and acknowledged him with a momentary glare.

"Yes, Brigadier?"

"Doct- Commander, final preparation for the facilities are nearing completion."

"Excellent. Essential personnel are to be assigned to their necessary areas of operation. The portfolios are on my desk, take them."

"Yes sir, what of the non-essential personnel that had a hand in construction however? Some of them are curious as to the more peculiar facilities."

"You informed them that those were matters of top clearance only correct?"

"Of course sir, they continued to pry anyway."

The Doctor turned to the Brigadier General and put a hand to his brow whilst sighing.

"I thought I could count on you to keep discretion...no matter, I had thought this could happen. Lead them outside of the safe zone, ostensibly on a scouting mission and then ensure they all have 'accidents', am I clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Before you are dismissed: I want the doctors who treated the infected from the Florida incident quarantined here, post haste. Their families too. Quietly though."

"Yes sir."

With that the Brigadier walked off and the Doctor turned back to stare out across the sea. He could not help but smile as thoughts slowly crossed his mind.

This facility was his, it was his playground. Now he could do what he wanted, follow through with so many ideas, so many plans. He was going to revolutionize the world, one step at a time. He was going to do what no other man had done before him: he was going to play God and kill God.

 

[Mikkel Glahder]

A pre-war picture of the City council of Ronto when it was being build


The parliament and civil government of Ronto​

The civil government of the state of Ronto, is not as well known as its military and it is often forgotten as people just believe that it is a military dictatorship. It is not however. Or, it was prior to 2113 when a elected civilian government took up the job of leading the civilian life and preventing the state from becoming dictatorial and authorian. Even though the general of the armed forces has the last sayings in any law and can veto anything he or she wishes, it is rarely used and the government works independtly of the army's action. At first, there were 50 elected officials, that number has been raised to 75 in the following years. There are elections every 5 years. For a long time, the two conservative parties had held a majority alone, but after an election 2 years ago, changed that and they have to share power with the other parties.

From left to right: Liberal Workers Union (some kind of dark yellow), United Left, New Democracy, United Front, Patriotic Front, independt(s)​

Parties:

Government coalition:

United Front:

Number of reprensentatives in Parliament: 29

Ideology: Conservative
--------------------------------
Patriotic Front:

Number of representatives in parliament: 8

Ideology: Reactionary conservatism
--------------------------------
--------------------------------
Opposition:

United Left:

Number of representatives in Parliament: 23

Ideology: Liberalism
--------------------------------
Liberal Workers Union:

Number of representatives in Parliament: 6

Ideology: Anarcho-capitalism, Liberalism
--------------------------------
New Democracy:

Number of representatives in Parliament: 8

Ideology: Social-Liberalism, Progressivism

 

[Corman50]

A broadcast is heard on several radio channels across the Dakotas and Montana

​

To the people of the Union

I am Elder Mason of the Brotherhood of Steel. You leaders have no doubt deceived you, telling you various lies about the Brotherhood, its goal in this war and about themselves. Allow me to dispel these falsehoods and tell you the truth. Since its inception, your Union has been manipulated by remnants of the organization known as Enclave. Enclave is responsible for various crimes extending before even the Great War. Like your Union now, it manipulated the old United States from shadows, using it to serve their own nefarious ends. It is for these reasons the Enclave is considered the Brotherhood's greatest enemy, and such it is our duty to destroy it in its entirety. While we have no issue withe Union itself, we cannot allow it to continue in its current form, with Enclave at its head. I present to you this offer, remove the taint of Enclave from your nation, and we will happily end this war and offer you the protection of the Brotherhood. To the Enclave remnants who now use the Union to advance your own insidious agenda's, surrender now and you will receive a fair trial for your crimes by a tribunal of the Brotherhood, taking in account your rank and role in Enclave's actions. Should these terms be refused, hostilities will continue until every last trace of Enclave is destroyed.

 

[Tristanxh]

[Radio Broadcast]​

My fellow citizens of this Union of nations,

I am Overseer Thomas Perry Matthews, and I wanted to reassure you all that the Brotherhood of Steel lies. They lie blatantly and disregard the truth in favor of their fanatical and undying hatred for anything resembling the American way of life, freedom, peace, or prosperity. Their hatred for the 'Enclave,' does indeed stem from just reasons. However, they began to be warped by their hatred, and their hatred undid every shred of honor they had. Now, due to the fact that the 'Enclave' claimed to promote the return of civilization, freedom, peace, and prosperity they hate all of it. Their reasons for hating the 'Enclave,' was that it was not civilized, it was not free, it did not bring peace, and it did not bring prosperity. They now have left behind civilization, they have now left behind freedom and force their shackles upon others, they now bring war on this very day, they now destroy our prosperity. They have become the monster that they hated, and may god save us from this fate.
While I respect the ideals they were founded upon and support the reasons they were founded, they have strayed too far from the truth and must be destroyed for this very reason. While we work to bring back the workings of civilization, while we allow men to roam free as their heart desires, while we brought peace to these lands, while we continue towards bringing prosperity, the Brotherhood of Steel wages war upon us and threatens to kill us all if we do not present it with a creation of it's imagination. We can not present them any members of the Enclave, because the Enclave is dead. We are not the Enclave, we can not present the Brotherhood with what we do not have and does not exist, we will not surrender to the Brotherhood under any circumstances, and the Brotherhood of Steel will face retribution for our fallen brothers, our murdered fathers, and our slain sons who liter the fields of South Dakota. Our friends and family who were murdered in cold blood by these rogue warriors are calling out for justice! All who can hear me, rise! Rise and stand against our enemy; Rise and stand against the Brotherhood of Steel!

 

[Rovsea]

Ron Shirley paced in his office. As Head of State, his job was mainly to navigate through those things that were not so domestic in nature. Expanding to new areas, diplomatic agreements with the outside world, and , of course, the military. Following the war with the Enclave, support for his government was still running low, although during the summer Head Councillor Espace made up quite a bit of ground on the popularity polls again. The government seemed to be stabilizing, although the continuation of effective policies would be necessary to bring things entirely back to welcome levels. Elections would happen in a year, and Governor-General Shirley had no intentions of retiring just yet.

Regardless, the DC Confederation was still expanding at a rapid rate, and so the policies and decisions made now could drastically impact future generations. Around DC itself conditions were changing, although not as rapidly as they might have had the Enclave gone unchecked. The Pitt was a constant concern, although for now they were the only real threat of any immediacy. The heart of the nation still lay at Rivet City, though, and to a lesser extent along the subways that linked Rivet City to Vault 101 and Megaton. Overpopulation was not yet problem, but in order to provide for the future of the nation, progress on the frontiers had to begin now. to that extent, it was time to do some thinking. Shirley hated that so much of the Confederation's industry relied on the Pitt's influence. While diplomatic outreach was a possibility, it wouldn't be very intelligent to rely on some kind of technological cooperative to allow the construction of a DC based steel mill. Therefore, it was time to start consulting the sciences, and perhaps indulge in a bit of trial and error.

In other news, there were the spoils of the war with the Enclave to consider. That and relations with the Brotherhood of Steel. It was the Brotherhood's war, so many of the finds would go to them, however, the Confederation sent thousands into battle as well, so it would only be fitting for them to reap some of the rewards. Shirley looked at his desk, stopping his pacing for the moment. He read a slip of paper written by his Foreign Secretary. It began:

~ To Elder Casdin of the DC Brotherhood of Steel

Following the recent defeat of the Enclave by the Brotherhood and the Confederation, it is time to discuss how the spoils of war are to be divided.

1. We understand that the loss of so many brothers has left your once proud Order desolate and barren of men. We would like to offer the transfer of all of the ex-Brotherhood men still left in our military to your command to make up for this monumental loss.

2. We will be giving the vast majority of the power armor we recovered to the Brotherhood, including all of the BoS Power Armor recovered from the field of battle by the Confederation as well as all but 2 of the Enclave issue Power Armor. Hopefully, this will help you in recouping your losses.

3. One Vertibird was recovered from Fort Meade in poor condition, but it is repairable. Seeing as the Enclave, in the opening shots of the conflict, destroyed several of your Vertibirds, we will offer this vehicle to you.

4. As part of an initiative to strengthen the DC Brotherhood of Steel, we will propose a law allowing you to recruit from the Confederation. Please know that any recruits taken from our lands cannot be conscripted, that you have no right of conscription over the Confederation, and that you cannot in any way attempt to force any citizen of the Confederation into your order.

5. In exchange you will share some of your military technology and techniques so that we might better aid each other in the future, and so that Confederate soldiers will not take such heavy losses in our next conflict. While it is true that the Enclave offered us sufficient insult for war just as they did you, we joined the war on your side, and so you owe us something for the soldiers we sent to die in your campaign. This would effectively be a repayment of your debt.

6. You will exchange with us some of your more impressive civilian technologies, as payment for the relief we offer you after the war is ended. This should be easy for you to do, and it should benefit both of our peoples to a large extent.

7. A treaty of mutual defense in the face of aggression will be signed so that if either of our factions are threatened in the future, we will respond to aid each other. We obviously have the capacity to work well together, as evidenced by the recent war, and we obviously share some of the same goals and enemies, again as we have just been shown, and so the Confederation feels that a defensive pact might be in the best interests of both of us.

8. Ceding of Fort Meade to the Confederation, as the Brotherhood has little need of it, while the Confederation is a rapidly expanding state.
​

~ Ron Shirley, Governor-General of the DC Confederation

The document would hopefully signify a positive change in relations between the Bortherhood of Steel and the Confederation. It was designed so that more than anything both parties benefited from the end of the war, ans bot where in a position to continue helping each other post-war. For both sides, there was little downside. The note was already written, and he didn't foresee any huge problems getting it through Congress. Anybody willing to join up with the brotherhood could simply present themselves there anyway, this way at least there was a formal system in place and there was some diplomatic benefit. More importantly, the possible technological benefits, both civilian and military, were staggering for the Confederation. The possibility of better education given more advanced Brotherhood technology was particularly appealing. Every edge would help the Confederation grow as a nation, and grow strong. Only time would tell if these measures would be enough to confront the new century, however.

 

[AzagalTheGreat]

Name: Ray Vanderbilt

Date of Birth : 22th of June 2281

Position : Leader of the Patriotic Front of the State of Ronto

Faction: State of Ronto

Biography : the youngest scion in a long line of industrialists, Ray Vanderbilt his family has moved throughout the USA for decades untill they finally settled down in Toronto. Ray grew up in Toronto and eventually progressed his career in politics. He has worked himself up and now with the death of the former leader of the Patriotic Front he has taken its leadership...

((Switching over to Ronto after much discussion))
​

 

[Harpsichord]

- To Ron Shirley, Governor-General of the DC Confederation

In discussion with the Heads of each caste, on behalf of the D.C Chapter of the BoS I affirm the articles put forward. I am glad to see the friendship between our people's prove fruitful, and look forward to the growing prosperity it shall bring to us all.​

 

[oxfordroyale]

(I'm resigning. I've just lost interest and with orders due I can't force myself to continue. Good luck with the rest of the game.))

 

[Captain Ozwin]

REBUILDING TRUST​

A few days after arriving in Jacobstown Chase was given medical treatment and showed significant signs of recovery.

Marcus comes in and stands at the foot of Chase's bed."The doctors tell me it's safe to move you, so you'll be flown back to Hopeville tomorrow."

Chase opened his eyes and from this angle it looked as if Marcus was twenty feet tall. "Hey boss, I'm sorry you had to bail me out, I will pay you back I promise... okay sounds good, your nightkin got the parts I needed if you can let them know how grateful I am for it." Chase slowly sat up in his bed and took a deep breath.


Marcus waited for Chase to sit up . "Fortunately we didn't have to go in guns blazing."

"I'm definitely glad about that... Marcus I'm sorry, you gave me an inch and I took a mile, I really do owe you my life at this point."

"Calamity tells me she's already given you the lecture on following instructions and thinking of yourself as part of a group?"

"Yes sir she has, and before she did Dr.Gannon did as well, If you feel the that it would be necessary for a third lecture, I understand." Chase sat up at Marcus in the eyes.

Marcus not showing any difference in his composure and calmly laid out an offer as well as setting the standards for the future of Chases, 'Involvements' "No. But you have a decision to make. You can walk away right now, we'll keep the simulator as payment for bailing you out, or you can commit to never screwing up like that again. If you stay and fail to hold up your end then you'll either be banished or locked up, depending on how much of a security risk you're judged to be, If you get captured and we can't get you out you also need to realize that we might have to silence you, permanently."

Chase was a bit taken back by everything Marcus had just said, he stood up, ignoring the aching of his ribs. "Well just to let you know, I made my decision before you asked me that question, I made multiple decisions while I was being carried on a stretcher up this mountain, but before we discuss that I need to know one thing."

Marcus looking at Chase, simply replied. "Yes?"

Chase wanting to know everything slightly raised his tone but was quick to lower it and stay focused as well as respectful. "Why did you pay the money ? Was it pity ? Was it only because you felt I was a strategic resource? your answer to why wont change my decision but it will help me live with it and maybe die for it."

Marcus stood straighter but was still incredibly hard for Chase to figure out what he was thinking "I pity anyone in Legion captivity. You are also an important strategic resource. I also think that you're a good kid and deserve a second chance. Lastly, I don't abandon my people if I don't absolutely have to. All those soldiers outside, by choosing to be soldiers, have accepted that their lives may someday have to be sacrificed for the good of everyone here, and that since I'm the one in charge, it is my decision if and when those soldiers will have to put their lives in danger."

Chase relaxed. "You're a great leader boss, you should run for president, be the first super mutant president of America." Chase smiled. "But on the serious note I already decided I would commit to never screwing up like that again, and I still feel greatly indebted to not just you but everyone In Jacobstown and Hopeville
maybe a few months ago I had different reasons for wanting to help you , and they might of been selfish, I didn't want to want to die in some hole and be forgotten in the wind, but you gave me family , a purpose , a mission , everything that i lost, I received double, so thank you Marcus."




"Glad to hear it. However since you're staying, and since you broke some major rules and everyone knows it, I do still have to discipline you.: Chase Howitzer you are hearby grounded from flight, as pilot or passenger, real world or simulation, for 6 months starting when you arrive back at Hopeville. You are also confined to the Hopeville complex, and are not permitted to leave it without the express written authorization of both your immediate supervisor, Dr Gannon, and the base Commander, Joseph. Such authorization shall only be granted if strictly necessary for your job assignments, and even then you will be accompanied by no fewer that 4 armed guards at all times while outside."

Chase felt like his head was spinning out of control and that he was going to throw up, he sat on the edge of the bed and tried to protest. "But... bu... oh no.." Chase tuned around and leaned away from Marcus and Actually threw up. "Alright... sounds fair enough"

 

[jcucc]

Resigning. I love the game, but I've got no time right now. I wish you all the best of luck!

(except for the slavers)

 

[baboushreturns]

I am suspending the game for now due to a lack of time. My most sincere apologies to all the players you guys truly did write some great ic's for this game and one day hopefully I can pick this back up. Thank you.