Mathias nodded in agreement when Zhang gestured to the Radiation Roost, and followed him in its direction. When Zhang stopped to finally introduce himself and offer a hand to shake, Mathias shook it vigorously, and said "Dr. Mathias Johnson. I used to work way up north at the Institute, huge science complex, with some of the most advanced technology known to man. I was head of their medical department for a good number of years, but things took a turn for the worse, and now I'm out here, helping people as best as I can with what I've got left. It's good to meet a new friendly face out here in the wasteland." He then continued to walk into the Radiation Roost with Zhang, glancing over the people inside. "Perhaps you'd allow me to purchase you a drink as a good-will gesture, Zhang?"

Jack got up and rolled his eyes. "I can't breath fire I can however do this." He reached into his bag producing a nuka cola Quantum which he drank. Then he pulled a lighter holding it in front of his mouth he spewed out the soft drink as burned a bright blue. "Not exactly breathing fire but pretty damn close, learned the trick from some raiders I was scouting out." He smiled and took handing them two hundred caps.

Just as he was about to shake hands with Patrick when a man burst in, demanding to speak with him. "You two count your caps and enjoy the your drinks." He told them turning to look at the new arrival.

"I assume your either here to kill me or offer your assistance. We can talk but you do it here, the people here are with me and I won't leave my partners out of the loop." He told the new man with some defiance, his hand resting on his holster where his ten millimeter pistol waited to be drawn.

Zhang smiled as he held up a hand to stop the doctor from buying him a drink, "The party will provide for the people, it only request assistance and service from them when called upon."

He walked over to the bar and flagged the bartender, "Two drinks comrade. One for me and one my new friend Dr. Mathias."

After some walking about and the clinging of some bottles, the man produced two bottles of Nuka-Cola which Zhang thanked and paid him for as he passed one to Mathis. He pretended to ignore the man as he began to count the caps, hoping that he wouldn't get greed and tell him there was a new tax for the drink or something like that. Opening his own first, he held it up and said "To the people." before beginning to drink it down, taking a seat at the bar with his back against the wood. He looks at Mathis and he still holds his bottle unopened, "Do you wish to have alcohol comrade?"

As he went in for another sip, he nearly slipped it as blue flaming mist swept by him from one of his neighbors, some of it managed to get on to him as started a small fire which he had to vigorously pat down. Glaring at the brown haired man trying to impress a lady, Zhang tapped him on the shoulder, "Do you mind not trying to burn down this place? If you really want to destroy capitalistic creations, the party welcomes your attempts."

He stared the boy in the eyes with blacks eye strained and hardened by pre-war military training and comic books, ignoring the bartender's glares due to his comment about setting his business on fire.

@Orcus @Apollosarcher @ClocktowerEchos

Government just couldn't let his pre-programmed 'curiosity' stay under wraps for long. It had been only a few minutes of him standing guard outside the Radiation Roost and already he'd grown sick of looking at the street. It'd been a while and he was still not used to how much his beloved America had changed.

Everything was so... dusty, ruined, and unorganised. These were the nightmares of those pundits who conjured up images of Iraq during the Resource Wars, saying America would turn out like that. Evidently they were right. And even worse, apparently Communist infiltrators like the one he had witnessed could not only wander around freely but also spout their rhetoric in public. Gov. had in his memory banks a time when that man would be dragged off and thrown in jail for life like the vermin he is. Maybe then this nuclear war wouldn't have happened, he thought.

The robot's attention was shifted when the Communist wandered right past him with another man, evidently not acknowledging him at all, and entered the Radiation Roost. Gov. had his recorder on him the entire time, the rusty wall repair being thin enough to hear through it. Unfortunately, the soundwaves ended up getting polluted when he detected another man approach the bar, burst in and confront someone else inside. It sounded like there was going to be some kind of struggle. Gov. would have taken the opportunity to try running driving away again had it not been for the whole crowded street business.

But before the confrontation could escalate to violence, he heard the distinct sound of Stubby whipping one of his shotguns shut.

"Is there a problem, sirs?" Gov. heard his 'owner' say from inside the bar, combined with the sound of a stool screeching against the floor. Gov. knew that the guard towered over most people in the town, so whoever he was talking to was probably quite intimidated.

"If there's gonna be a lil'... altercation in 'ere," the Guard continued talking, "I'd suggest takin' it outside, away from me an' all the other ordinary folk jus' tryin' to enjoy their drinks."

Gov. took this opportunity to deploy his arm-mounted Plasma Pistol, making him combat-ready... or as combat-ready as he can get, anyway. Since the Communist had not noticed him when he walked in, Gov. could easily catch him by surprise if he tried to make a run for it. This felt just like old times.

"Whoa there, whoa there people, let's deescalate things a little huh?" Patrick raised his hands in a calming fashion away from his gun. "The big guy came over to chit chat is all." He turned to the Chinese guy who had also walked up. "I apologize he was showing me a trick he knew that's all, we will cover any damages to your outfit there, alright? I don't really understand anything you said, but I apologize if you got offended."

He turned around again to the shotgun wielding guard. "Honestly, man if you could just but that away, you are causing more harm than good right now. No one is here wants to start anything. If you could just go ahead and grab your drink that would be great. No one wants any trouble."
"I did not expect work to start quite so suddenly," he whispered to Jack.

@Orcus @Apollosarcher @ClocktowerEchos

"Is there a problem, sirs? If there's gonna be a lil'... altercation in 'ere, I'd suggest takin' it outside, away from me an' all the other ordinary folk jus' tryin' to enjoy their drinks."

Achilles stood from his chair to look this man in the face, getting between him and Patrick. They were roughly the same height, and stood nose to nose, but Achilles left his gun in its holster. He trusted that he could draw before this other guy could pull the trigger. If he were good with his gun, Achilles knew from experience with hard men, he wouldn't feel the need to draw first.

"No problem," he intoned calmly, in his customary clipped dialogue, "You're the only one with a weapon out. Put it away and we all go back to our drinks, like you say."

He had been in bar brawls before, but most of the time people left it with fists in the civilized confines of a town. Achilles was actually somewhat surprised to find someone who was willing to escalate the situation to a possible gunfight.

Judging from the sounds that came afterwards, Gov. could tell that Stubby had foolishly gotten his gun out again. You can't negotiate if you have a gun out. You have to hide the gun! A cardinal rule of politics, that.

"Hmm, I s'pose you're right." Gov. heard the Guard say as he put his gun away. "I apologise. But I'm still watchin' these folks. 'Specially the one who just burst in all unceremonious-like."

As he was amplifying all of this sound, Gov.'s inner processes had reached another conclusion that prompted him to feel ashamed. The man who burst in, he had missed him! Didn't even know what he looked like. He could have been another pinko.

"Verily. There is a reason the Knights take refuge only in the halls of Kamelot."

Honestly, it was common sense. Don't piss off a deathclaw, then go hiding somewhere the deathclaw's going to rampage. And honestly, it was kind of stupid to attack the Enclave. There were stories about the kidnappings, sure... but when the Knights undertook quests to find the "victims," they usually ended up in the cave of a yao guai, a slaver's camp, or eloping with someone a family member didn't approve of rather than following Enclave kidnappers. It shocked Samuel that so many people in the wasteland would slander a group dedicated to restoring civilization and ensuring the safety of unmutated humans.

Albus Secundus smiled wryly. This 'Knight' at the very least understood the basics of forward bases and strategy. The townsfolk were fantastically passionate and exceptionally concerned about the wellbeing of their community, but would be prone to rash decisions. Samuel Carter, meanwhile, was apparently a part of some neochivalric order and, thus, held a sense of discipline and duty that would serve him well.

"It is good to know that you're so enthusiastic. One day, you'll have to tell me what your order of 'Knights' are. Let's get moving."

The path to the Radiation Roost was quite simple. The Roost was quite a large building, and rose above the skyline like a bush amongst grasses-- no doubt adding to the fact that every person who was new to this city came here first. There was quite a crowd visible through the musky darkness of the Roost's entrance. However, what was interesting most of all was the Robobrain sitting near the entrance.

Getting into the Radiation Roost presently would take quite a lot of maneuvering around people, and would potentially allow the Vault Dweller to escape. Albus turned to Samuel, and spoke with purpose.

"I need you to help me cover the exits. We'll keep an eye on both the main entrance, and the side entrance leading into that alley over there. For now, we'd best see if the Vault Dweller is here."

Albus peered into the musky haze of the Radiation Roost, but could not see Jack Cobalt through the throng of bodies. Giving up, he looked at Government, the Robobrain. Robots had good memories, didn't they? Perhaps this one would be helpful.

"Excuse me," Albus said to Government, trying to remain humble despite who he was talking to, "have you seen a person wearing a Vault suit come in here? We have reason to believe that they are a potential danger to the community."

@Earnest Evans

With the situation inside the bar seemingly resolved, Gov. tried his best to focus his analytical and perception circuits on his current job; the sooner it was over with, the sooner he could move to a more discreet location and make a dash again.

Before he could think on that plan further, he was approached by a pair of locals. One of them was an old-looking fellow with a beard right out of one of those J.R.R. Tolkein novels all of the 'nerds' liked to talk about. Or they used to, anyway, before the nuclear attack evidently made everyone illiterate.

From the looks of things, the fellow accompanying him was some kind of garbage man who'd had an accident with a welder and a stuffed Deer's head, or something equally ludicrous. Evidently the nuclear attack made everybody extremely accident-prone well. Made him sick, the mess they made everywhere.

Switching over to his rather light 'helpfulness' subroutines once the man with the beard started talking, however, he realised that maybe he could start off that distraction he needed after all, if he could set a mob after this 'danger to the community'. The same 'Vault Dweller' individual they were talking about at the forum, he concluded was the most likely scenario.

"Vault suit?" He replied to the man's query with his usual officious tone, the lights on the head lighting up as he 'spoke'. "...Like on the Bobbleheads? I am afraid I have not, citizen. ...That being said, there is most certainly an individual in there who has gotten someone in the community angered and hysterical; no surprise, if it's the man I think you're talking about. I have recorded what sounded like the prelude to a textbook hillbilly brawl in there. Perhaps you'd recognise this 'Vault Dweller's voice. Be glad this information doesn't fall under the Classification radar or I could be fired."

With that explanation of his hopefully piercing the man's skull (he sounded intelligent enough), Government accessed his most recent recorded archives and played them back to the man, in the original voices... though the sound quality was very crackly, filled with white noise and more than a little faint. The rusty wall he was recording through was probably responsible for a lot of that.

"I... loo...ing for you! Me... you n-... to talk."

"I assume you... -ere to kill... offer your ass-... We can talk, but... the people here are... won't leave my partn-..."

"Oh, and keep this under wraps from any potential spies..." Gov. started communicating again in his normal 'voice', detecting a bountiful opportunity to do his real job even better, hopefully riling up the locals even more in the process; an evil in times like this, but nobody truly understood the Robot's predicament!

"...But there is most certainly a filthy Communist infiltrator in there as well. Listen to this."

Gov. accessed his archive again, audibly rewinding all of his tape to reach the voice of the supposed infiltrator.

"...The party wi-... the people, it only re-... -ance and... when...... -inks, comrade."

The playback clicked off abruptly.

"Blegh, my synthesiser is rusting just from playing that back. 'Party'. 'Comrade'. Without a hint of what you call 'Irony'! If that isn't a Pinko, I don't know what is!" Gov. declared, seeing it fit to clang one of his claws against his cylindrical chassis. He never wanted to do that, seemed like more of a habit absorbed from constant rewrites of his diplomacy subroutines.

Albus listened gravely to Government's garbled recordings, furrowing his brows at the possibility that this Vault Dweller and his Brotherhood of Steel cohorts were Communists. If this was true, then there would be no reason to support them. The people would have to know of the dangers they posed.

Albus had learned of the Chinese Communists in his mandatory lessons with his superiors. Though they preached the language of communal peace and harmony with the world, they stole and cheated and murdered just as much as the Capitalist Americans. Communists were a holdover from the Old World-- largely redundant to the already-communal tribes of the Southwest and nothing but a corrupting force in the decadent West. To think that a Vault Dweller and an army of Communists--two worthless relics of the Old World dependent on conflict with others and what they'd stolen from their forefathers-- would find equal ground was not surprising, but certainly an ill omen.

Albus politely thanked Government for its help, and turned to Samuel. "What do you think? Is the Vault Dweller merely deluded, or are they something more sinister? If what it said is true, I fear the Carolinas will be caught in a war between the monsters of the Old World-- with the Vault Dweller at the helm of both."

"The siren song of communism tainted many before the Great War. But... this could be worse than a mere war."

The knight's eyes shot open as he gasped in horror.

"The Vaults were a sealed environment. If one man in the vault was turned to Communism, it's likely that so were the rest... and if Communists have been festering, plotting for centuries... there's no telling what foul designs they have for the wasteland. Arthur's throne... This could mean an entire Vault full of Communists!"

He gripped the handle of his shishkebab, staring gravely at Albus.

"Good sir, I repsect the man's right to life. But should he truthfully be a Communist, he and his collaborators must be slain- lest there be another war with such grave consequences."

[DERP]

Albus glared at Samuel.

"We are not resorting to murder if he refuses to relent. Vault dwellers are naive-- ignorant of the realities of the Wasteland. The fact that he still believes communal interaction is something that has to be institutionalized speaks volumes of this. We will show him the error of his ways, and we will convince him to turn against the vices and traps of the old world's monsters."

Albus turned to Government, and smiled.
"Thank you for your help. We had best get to work before the Vault Dweller moves. We'll start with the barman, he should know where to find the Vault Dweller."

With a confident gait, Albus wormed his way through the crowd at the bar. There were quite a number of haggard individuals centered around the barman, but Albus did his best to catch his attention anyway.
"Excuse me," Albus said to Davis, "Have you seen a man wearing a Vault suit around here?"

Jack scratched his head with a smile. "Sorry about that. Nuka Cola can be dangerous after all and quantum is especially. I'll let you and your friend drink in peace." He moved away from the bar, two yellow blips on motion tracker meant that two guys were waiting by the door and were some were between killing him and not killing him. He moved behind a wall and load Rebecca, this little girl set damn near anyone on fire and cooked people in metal armor inside out. Only downside to his rifle was every shot cost double, meaning twelve shots before a reload, still it wasn't the Enclave outside so he could probably talk down whoever it was.

Davis knew the drill, when Jack left the bar and got out that gun meant someone didn't have the best intentions. Davis held his .45 under the bar as a man walked in and asked about Jack. "Yep I've seen him." He smiled as looked at the door then back to Albus. "You know what a pipboy can do right? I mean man wearing one those is always a threat to anyone looking to cause him trouble. There's a good reason why vault dwellers use them, their smart. Us out here we know nothing compared to them." He laughed. "Hell Jack fixed the town water pump, free of charge. Rigged up some old turrets the sheriff had to defend the town gate. Town is afraid of him cause he taking down the Enclave."

He shook his head and sighed. "The Sheriff and I know better through, you been to the coast recently? Towns out that way been turned over. All the boys and young men carted off to be soldiers, everyone else put to work scavenging dangerous parts of the wasteland and if you resist you get turned to goop." Davis pulled out a cigarette lighting it. "The forum is full of idiots they been talking about how Jack is bad news for months. Because since he turned up in town other problems have gone away, water shortage is over. We've got weapons that turn raiders to ash or goop now so they don't bug us. So if your buying into anything there telling you don't, he's not a communist, he's not a god, and he's just a man trying to fix a mistake." He took a long drag on the cig staring at Albus. "People come in here a lot asking about him you see normally wanting to yell at or off him, I tell'em this and they stop and they think a fucking minute. He might not do the best job but things have been a lot better since he started helping."

As Davis delivered the rant Jack slipped out the door and was greet with a low grade robot and a guy in terrible armor. One was yellow, the knight and the other was a green blip but he did have a old model plasma pistol out. He looked at the knight. "That armor is shit and that weapon is... I've scene deadlier pool cue's. If your here to kill me should have come better equipped."

He looked at the robot then smirked, government model which meant he could do this. "Vault 35 security chief, clearance code 1648 Delta. All Vault security staff are considered members of the army and Chiefs are equal to the rank of Captain." He informed the bot, every single government bot knew the vault clearance codes, there to be used to reactivate robots and let them know that Americans needed them again.

"Alright Lancelot I'm going back in the bar and meet with the BoS boy. You come back when you've got a good weapon and better armor as it stands right now I'd cook you to death and I get the feeling we both don't need that." He patted the knight on the shoulder and walked back into the bar removing the no robots signs.

Davis smiled as Jack sat back down at the bar beside Albus. Jack turned and looked at him. "So you got a job that needs doing or are you among those that think that I'm some demon of the wastes, able to kill a death claw by staring it in the eyes." He grabbed another nuka cola drinking it.

Davis grumbled something about Jack not understanding the purpose of a bartender before Jack looked at him. "Davis what even is a death claw? I heard Three Dog say the Enclave tried to tame them once... It didn't end well." Davis just laughed.

"Robobrain, it seems my worries about his communism were unfounded. He does not, however, respect his fellow man, or know or care for the consequences of his actions. It seems as if the bartender is infatuated with him, seeking to cover his obvious flaws in hopes of a tryst or something."

Lifting the visor of his questing regalia, he chomped down on a cigar, lighting it with his Shiskebab. Taking a long puff, he turned to the Robobrain.

"Also, the Vault Security does NOT count as a military position. After all, Vault-Tec was a private corporation, not a government-sponsored effort. So he's impersonating military personnel. Ain't that a Federal Offense? ...also why in Arthur's name did he come out here just to insult us?"

Albus looked at Davis like he was a lunatic.
"I'm sorry, but... do you not know how bad becoming depending on another city-state is? Forgive me, but I feel you're missing the point of this "danger to the community" thing. Allow me to explain, please."

Albus stood up, and straightened his moustache.
"The sheriff has a set of turrets available, yes. Where does the spare parts, ammunition, and repair technicians for these turrets come from? That's an important question... without them, the town would be nearly defenseless against attack!"

"Well, that answer to that is simple: you can't manufacture them without pre-war appliances and pre-war amenities. South of the Border is nice, yes, but making turret parts would require the industry of a military base! You've got two choices: One, you can scavenge parts from old world facilities. Two, you can trade for them from people who can make them-- like the Vault Dweller's group. Option one is clearly not viable in the long term, and option two seems good, but holds a clear and present danger."

"What happens when the community you're trading with suddenly wants what you have? Well, obviously, they're going to do everything in their power to withhold what you need. Spare parts, technicians, ammunition, everything that you've come to depend on them for! When you're at the end of your rope, they'll come to offer a deal-- your stuff, for their continued support. And that's how they end your community."

"Eventually, you'll become so wholly dependent on these people that life without them is possible. You're just another colony for them, to dispose of as they see fit! You'll be assimilated into the workforce of this Vault Dweller's group, and you won't even see it coming."

Albus continued to speak, imploringly.
"Please, look to the future of the community! You shouldn't grow dependent on the works of the old world! We have to regain our civilization the hard way, or else we grow complacent-- we become chattel! The raiders shrink in size, but grow in activity because of the Vault Dweller's actions! All the turrets in the world can't save us if the whole Enclave turns its eye towards us!"

It was at that point that Jack came back in, strutting like a cock in a henhouse.

Albus opted to plumb his deep knowledge of history. His instructor had been very enthusiastic about pre-war American life, and so did everything in his power to teach Albus about that.
"Please consider the consequences of a poor community being offered 'help' by a seemingly wealthy benefactor. I'm certain the town's library has some history books that cover early American history. I'm sure you'll be interested to read about them, especially about what happened in Cuba."

Albus turned to Jack. An inquisitive look crossed his face.
"Since your friend is so cocksure about you and your friends' beneficence, I want to see for myself. I want you to take me to your home Vault, and to the Brotherhood of Steel. Let me see who they are and what they do, and I will do everything in my power to assuage the tensions felt by the townsfolk."

Albus smiled gently, and looked Jack in the eyes.
"I only want to help. Maybe your group got it right, this time."

Achilles, still drinking at the bar, interjected gently.

"I don't know much; you said a lot of things. But I know if the turrets fail there will still be hard men ready to defend the community. As many as there are ready to knock it down, hopefully. This morning the Sheriff got a nice pile'f guns for his deputies to sling. Ammo for days too.

"Guess you aren't local, don't know me. Used to be on th'other side. Wouldn'ta switched if I didn't reckon the community way was better."

He shrugged as if it was of little consequence to him. He had chosen his side, it was this fellow's right to do the same.

Albus nodded. It was true that the sheriff's men had guns and could use them.

"You're right, of course. In the short term, the town will be safe from most threats. However, I am not talking about the short term."

Albus stood up, and plumbed his memory for stories and anecdotes. One in particular shone very brightly. His teeth gleamed as he smiled at Achilles.

"Have you ever been to Arizona, friend? My father once encountered a city of lights and industry. Mesa, a land of milk and honey for many men living in the area. Mesa was virtually impregnable to raiders. Turrets, lasers, grenades-- they had it all! They had defended themselves for decades, but had grown to depend on their irreplaceable technology. The men, not needing their guns for anything but sport and hunting, didn't bother to learn how to shoot-- the turrets did that for them! The security council, armed with lasers and trained to use only the finest in weapon repair tools and medicine-- they didn't bother to learn how to make herbal remedies or improvise weapons! The small bands of raiders that plagued them earlier now didn't bother to come at all! Life for them was as simple and carefree as a babe in the cradle!"

Albus' tone became grimmer.

"Of course, where do you think those raiders went? They banded together-- grew powerful and cunning. Overwhelming defense can only be met with overwhelming force. They bombed supply caravans, burned and salted farms, instigated terror across the community wherever they could get in! The people of Mesa grew terrified, and eventually collapsed into civil war. Those few that survived were picked off and enslaved. Met with an impenetrable fortress, these raiders undermined and corrupted-- and the city's people were not hardened enough to cope."

Albus decided to leave out the parts where Caesar's Legion rolled through, enslaved the raider tribes, and assimilated the remaining survivors into the Legion. It would put somewhat of a strain on his point.

"We need to ensure that our defenses are only capable of just barely exceeding the current threat, and that all of us are prepared for the worst-case scenario. Otherwise, we'll grow soft in our cradles, and be destroyed when that cradle falls!"

Davis disappeared into the back shaking his head, off to get something. Jack sighed. "I'm tracking the BoS, I did manage to contact their D.C. headquarters and they said that they would organize an expedition down when they could. I'm sure there are some around hiding from the Enclave however." He told him then looked down. "I can take you to my vault but it's... It's empty." He turned back looking at the doorway.

Davis returned with a large crate setting it down on the table he pulled out five books. "These are books, on everything from math to how build and repair mark seven turrets. I've payed scavengers to look for years and never found this many. The vault dweller here gave half his vaults books to help us start a school, we might not be self sufficient now but once we get things going were going to be able to repair and build what we need ourselves." He smiled opening a copy of Hamlet.

Jack nodded. "My vault was built on science, we had a thousand of the leading minds at the time of the war and we made incredible progress. Our vault was also stocked with a abundance of reading materiel and old world music. Music went to Three Dog upstairs and Davis got the books in exchange I never pay for a room and board." He said nodding to Achilles. "Alright lets go back to the vault, we can-"

Jack heard a sound that haunted his dreams, the sound of verti-birds. "Oh god damn them! Davis lock up the bar tell the sheriff to get everyone inside. Shit! Okay we need to lead them away from town if not then the people here are dead." Jack thought a moment.

"Okay here's the plan we slip out the back gate and I'll rig a plasma grenade into the verti-bird send it sky high then we open fire and lure them away from town. By the time they get back the sheriff can have the turrets up and arm his deputies. Enclave will turn back if there to heavily armed will buy them about a week or two." He said walking back towards the door. "If your coming with me now's the time other wise stay here and prepare to greet your new overlords." He spat Davis hiding the crate of books and clutching his .45 with a white knuckle grip.