Nipton

Nipton had not been subjected to mass murder in this alternate universe; although Vulpes Inculta would certainly prefer it if the town of thieves and whores had been subjected to his planned 'lottery'. Instead, he had to be content with the mayor being burnt alive, the Powder Gangers being decapitated, and the NCR soldiers peacefully strangled when it turned out they knew nothing of importance, before being dumped into a mass grave. Now, servants of the Artificer King Actus, client of the New Legion, had been sent to the town to turn it into a deathrap for the inevitable NCR counterattack, preparing state-of-the-art defenses, including land mines, bear traps, and spiked pits, with the town's populace watching on as they were turned into human shields.

When those profilgates came, the New Legion would be ready...

Jeffery Wagner - Camp McCarran

Jeffery Wagner would receive orders from the higher-ups through a coded letter, who, to other eyes, would read like a set of average poetry - not too bad, not too good - but to someone who possessed the Cabal's codes, would tell a rather...different message.

Nipton has been occupied by the Legion, who seek to set a trap for a presumed NCR counterattack. Disappoint them; there are any number of expendable assets. And by that, he was to hire or trick mercenaries, gangs that would otherwise be the enemy of the NCR, or even some of Mr. House's more ambitious goons to attack Nipton and get themselves killed. This would also keep the NCR and the Cabal's name out of it, a bonus.

Paradise 'Par' Rapids

Paradise 'Par' Rapids was looking for a thief. Not because anything of his' was stolen or because he felt the need to punish someone for something, but because he needed a thief's services. Why? Because he'd been chasing rumors of his company, the Crimson Caravan, doing unsavory stuff that might get the head brought down by the NCR higher-ups should word get back to them. Said rumors, if true, might bring him up the ranks again, which in turn, would help him steer the Crimsons down the 'right' path once more.

So, he had used his contacts among the Kings to search for someone who might help him, someone who knew how to be discreet, not excessively bloody, and finally, knew the meaning of consistency; not loyalty, but consistency.

And so he would wait, wait for anyone who wanted to take up his offer...

((This 'plot hook' can be followed by any PC/Major NPC with SPECIAL stats who isn't already taking another job))

The Muted Man - Vegas Strip

With the various Couriers sent to get the Platinum Chip dead, the Muted Man, Mr. House's most capable servant in this alternate universe, now had a new job; find out what became of the chip, and get it back, by any means possible. His contacts at Goodsprings would already be hearing reports that a person matching Benny's description had been seen at the scene, with more confirmation to be had at Primm, where one of his agents had destroyed a nest of those damn Powder Gangers and acquired information from Deputy Beagle - wait, just Beagle now that Primm Slimm had become sheriff.

Should he move now, or should he wait for more evidence? On the one hand, every moment the Platinum Chip was lost meant a continued NCR presence. On the other hand, the evidence was hazy, still hazy...

Elsewhere in the Wasteland

There is a spike in the number of Feral Ghouls, and various figures have offered a reward for their heads, or in one case, a 'live sample'.

Joshua Graham, who in this universe, had remained the Malpais Legate, was offering good caps and purified water for each Ghoul head, as well as the good graces of the Legion. Surprsingly even for this relatively less sexist alternate Legion, female adventurers were offered the job as well.

NCR Commander Boone, whose wife and child were still alive in this universe, had issued a similar offer, basically Ghoul heads for caps, purified water, and of course, a favor from the NCR in the future.

And finally, Jason Bright of the Bright Brotherhood had sent a message to the effect that those who captured a live ghoul for him would receive...his or her weight in Energy Cells! This would be useful for those who used Energy Weapons and them alone, though...

((Anyone can take up these plot hooks if they're not already doing something else))

@chiru@Hopeless@ClocktowerEchos@Wernher@chiru@thegreenleafe@APRoll201984@Vulkan

((Collab between Myself and Letter Bee))
New Vegas
In a large, underground chamber underneath the Lucky 38, a secret army was doine exercises. Power Armored troops and mechnical drones, as well as a few machines of war. A man in purple-colored Enclave Hellfire Armor was watching the proceedings, revelling in the apperance of strength this gave him. But, despite his pride, he, Alan Anderson of the Enclave, knew he was not ready - they were not ready.

So he would wait, wait for the coming of his 'friend', James Conrad, soon to be proclaimed the next President of the Enclave. Hopefully the man would bring news of the outside...and what opportunities are present.

The sound of gun shots could be heard below from the men training as James walked slowly up to alan with the report in his hand. "Alan, sir. Here is a report of the recent occurences in the wasteland." James handed them to his commander dressed in his enclave officer uniform at least for now, soon he would take on the apperal fit for a president.

Alan smiled.

"It seems the Legion had taken Nipton, plan to lure the NCR into attacking to preserve the crossings between Primm and the Mojave Outpost, and then leave. However, the NCR haven't seem to have taken the bait yet. Also, Feral Ghouls are multiplying." He wrinkled his face in disgust.

"Perhaps our men can help thin out the ranks of those ugly people...undercover, of course."

"The caps would be useful, but I fear we may draw to much attention, if our men who are trained for perfection begin to take down the ghouls left,right and center. Though I heard there is a group giving out Energy Cells. Perhaps send a group to capture a live one and then collect all of the energy cells and killing those that would dare help ghouls." James gave a sly smile as he looked out towards the troops who were no more then maybe a hundred strong.

A smile from Alan.

"This is heresy, but an Intelligent Ghoul is useful as a tool, one to eventually be broken, true, but a tool nonetheless. That said, though, yes, an undercover agent to find out what this 'Bright Brotherhood' is all about, and exterminate them if they prove too much of a threat...I approve of that, and will begin sending a team of operatives." A thought then came to him:

"The Muted Man...he said he's heading for Legion territory. Do you think Mr. House still seeks that Platinum Chip?"

James nodded slowly before turning to Alan "who's to say he doesn't already have it? From what I've seen of the strip those so called chairman at the tops seem unsure almost as though something's happened. Besides why would the legion have the chip more then likely that there's something of Mr.House in that territory. Don't you think?"

"Indeed," Alan caught on. "I've been looking at old maps; there's something underneath Caesar's Fortification Hill. Something of high technology..."

James nodded "Then that sounds like the reasonable place to go though I'm sure it will be dangerous and even if this man is as skilled as they say the Legion is very fanatical. Perhaps you should bring it up when you speak to Mr.House next."

"Oh, I will," said Alan, "Robert has been very...accomodating of our needs."

"He has, though I can't help but feel like we're trapped like rats down here. Only a few are allowed to leave and no one sees him but yourself. Frankly I don't know why he doesn't just let us claim the strip for him it'd make things easier or at the very least knowing his plans and why he's been so accomdating would be nice."

"Manpower is as much a part of the equation as technology," Alan responded. "Plus, and this is what our host permits me to reveal, his physical condition, even supported by technology, is still...weathered. Surviving 200 years has not been kind to him. This is just my own speculation, but the Platinum Chip seems to be part of a plan to lengthen our host's lifespan, and if so, I sympathize with such a quest." There was a hint of patronization in his voice, but not directed towards James; rather, it was directed at the host himself, Mr. House.

James nodded "Very well sir. Though I should hope to meet him soon, but nevertheless I must be off sir, should you need anything do call." James gave a salute and began to walk away

"Do you doubt the abilities of my tribe Vulpes Inculta?" The Artificer King Actus eyed the man who had come to check on his progress, standing up from his seat in the town hall with a raised eyebrow, "We are Caesar's engineers for good reason."

"I do not but I am simply stating that it would have been far more efficient and easier to raze this depraved den of whores and bandits." Inculta's voice was just as cold and lifeless as ever, monotonous enough to be unsettling even to those who had become regular targets of his visits as hidden eyes stared down the Artificer King.

"Perhaps but now we have the NCR were we want them. Should they come they will have to assail our defenses and these new prisoners will surely be killed off in the crossfire. On the flip side, should they fail to come, it will be a sign that the Republic does not have the power or courage or perhaps even kindness to even attempt to defend the people here." Visibly proud, Actus boasted of his plan with outstanding confidence, "At any rate, we will force a battle here and take home some new slaves and resources; Caesar's orders after all. Even if we cannot obtain a military victory here a political victory shall be born."

With little else to remark, Vulpes Inculta was escorted out by Actus to the entrance of the town hall now being used as a command center. A group of legionary escorts came to the Vulpes's side and with a "Hail Caesar!" the man began his way out of the city as it was being turned into a death trap, careful not to disturb andy pitfalls or landmines on their journey. King Actus on the other hand turned to face the front where trenches were being dug. Slaves towed in rocks and the trailers they once lived in to be used as bunkers. Out in the open was open bait, a cage consisting of captured persons who could not escape but it was more than just them in the middle of a minefield and pitfall traps, several of the slaves were squatting on pressure mines that would explode if they moved ensuring that if the NRC tried to move them, they'd all die.

Even should the defense fail, Actus had already made contingencies and had his son Heorem set up fall back points if not against his will. All that remained was constructing excuses for Caesar should he be questioned for it. With so many degenerate meatsheilds however, Actus had full confidence that even if the NRC sent its entire army at his defenses, he would still grant the Legion victory in the hearts and minds of the people of the Mojave.

Darlen Hammond

((Wolfhorn Ranch))
Darlen had peered down the sights of Tchaikovsky at his hometown and been mortified. He saw schoolmates and neighbors looking on in terror from cages as the Legion dug many peril-filled holes in the ground. He might be able to save a few of those he knew, despite being alone… Darlen had a lot of experience with danger filled spots. There was one alive he had intention to save, most of all… his kid sister Cloey was there amongst the crowd of Nipton locals, crying and clinging to their neighbor, her face pressed into a skirt. He had recognized her by her dress and hair through the scope of his gun. All of this added up to one enormous problem… Now what could be his solution?

“I can’t believe this is happening to us… No one should have stayed in Nipton after Joey and Samuel were abducted near Cottonwood Cove. It was insane to think we were anywhere near safe…”

Tchaikovsky growled in a low tone, and his “ears” moved to the right. Someone’s there… thought Darlen, taking his eyes off the proceedings in Nipton and onto the ridges close to his vantage point. He spotted two figures moving in his direction, weaving in between the tall cacti. Have they spotted me? No, just scouting… But now they have me pinned. If I move, they could turn and spoil my location. I’ll have to take my shots then leave. I’ll run for that old man’s ranch… Darlen took aim for the lower bodies of the Legion sentries. He made his mark with a rapid stream of bullets, tearing through the body of one man and easily sliding his aim onto the next target and shredding his abdomen as well. They both dropped, gasping and bloody, and Darlen had turned and begun his run to the Ranch as soon as he had heard no cry come from them. As the scout wheezed softly, the last he saw was a dark figure with a shock of blonde hair disappearing over a nearby ridge. It was too late for him to warn his brothers of the incredible danger encroaching on their defenses.

Darlen found Wolfhorn Ranch entirely deserted. The old man he and his family had used to buy meat from was gone, without a trace left behind. Ulysses, Darlen remembered his name was… The man had always seemed to have seen so much, more than most of the wasteland residents. He had once picked up Darlen when he was young and told the boy he saw “great potential” in those eyes. Darlen couldn’t say why he thought this of a Bighorn rancher, but the man knew what he was talking about when he spoke of capability. He picked up a flyer off of a counter, next to a large chopper-style knife. It was for the services of a “Forecaster” at the 188 Trading Post. He had heard of him before… The forecaster had predicted the death of one of his schoolmates. He had heard the other students talking about how Jon’s parents, the boy who was soon to die, had asked the forecaster about their young son: the result was a vision of the boy being consumed by a large lizard. Later, Jon ended up being too close to a gecko nest while practicing shooting.

It seemed to Darlen that the 188 Trading Post could hold the answers he needed about his place in the wasteland, perhaps even a way to liberate those he needed to from Nipton. With the current number of Legion troops there, rescuing his sister Cloey seemed unrealistic. But he knew what the Legion would do with the children of those they captured. With his parents out of the way, Cloey would be conscripted, and taken to one of the Legion camps to be trained to one day become one of their servants or wives. What he needed to know most of all was when they would try to move her and the other young prisoners… And that meant he didn’t have time for fortune telling just yet. He had to keep an eye on the movements of Legion troops as best he could… And he was glad that he had the means to do so. He tossed a ragged jacket over his Hazmat Suit and donned the Darklight Cowl. He was ready to swoop into the storm that would come, and do whatever it took to bring Cloey out of it.

John Williams

John did not consider himself a thief. Sure, maybe stealthy, but never a thief. Back in Arizona stealth was a virtue.The creatures of the waste were much more dangerous than those of the old world. There was the easy prey, like Big Horners, but in the wasteland most things are not prey, but predator. Geckos, Deathclaws, and Radscorpions are constant threats. It might be hard to believe that a Deathclaw could sneak around, but entire groups of hunters have been wiped out in one slash. John was not the best hunter, but he always came back and he always brought back something. From hunting to soldier John carried an extraordinary ability of coming back alive with whatever was required. When John deserted the Legion that was all he had left was the skills he picked up and they translated really well into a bounty hunting. The contracts offered good money, preferably alive, but some souls really just needed a bullet. Not every job was for a bounty sometimes a friend of a friend of a friend needs a little help. Currently a friend of a friend of a friend was in need of a little help. John was all for it, the only problem was the gunfight he just happened to stumble into between the Fiends and the NCR.

Bullets were flying everywhere, the Fiends were armed with whatever weapons they could get a hold of and the NCR was armed to the teeth, complete with an assortment of brush rifles and assault rifles. John still wasn’t sure how he got himself into this mess, sure this side of Vegas can be bad, but a full fledged battle? The Fiends need to lay off the jet. Currently John was propped up against a window of a two story shithole with two NCR soldiers firing off his repeater rifle. The problem was not insufficient firepower, but instead the overwhelming force of Fiends. There were about twenty of them and around 8 NCR soldiers, half of them were green as the sparse grass and just were shitting down their boots. John squeezed another shot off hitting the drug addled raider center mass. With another in his sights John pulled the trigger only to be met with the dead man's click.

“Fuck really?” He pulled back into cover and began to reload. Downstairs the sound of a brush rifle fired off followed by a screams. Not another fucking one John pulled out his revolver and crept down the stairs. The fiend didn’t hear John, not one peep, but that did not have anything to do with John. The raider was animalistically tearing into the soldier, without thinking John fired off two shots into him. The screams stopped, not because of the pain, because of the blood filling his throat. The soldier's eyes screamed for a quick end and John delivered the wasteland’s most pure form of reward, a bullet to the head. John reloaded his pistol only to find he had three bullets left. Upstairs his rifle had eight more, that was 16 total bullets. Just fuck me He thought. John wasn’t proud of what he was about to do, but the only thing you can do in the Mojave is survive. Upstairs the NCR soldier was firing away each shot taking him closer and closer to that inevitable click. John went back up and grabbed his rifle before offering some half assed excuse to shoot from downstairs. Without a second thought John slipped out away from the battle, avoiding eyes or bullets.

The rest of the trip to the meeting point was not as much as an adventure as the previous hour. Finding the address seemed to be the hard part. He was looking for a tenement building complete with a garage. This side of Vegas’ middle name was rundown tenement, but it became a lot easier to find as there were Kings, complete with 10 millimeter machine guns protecting the house. Honestly John did not know if they were expecting his arrival and finding out could result in a couple bullets buried in his chest. Luckily they seemed bored and became distracted when a giant rat began to scurry about. Taking his chance John darted and headed for the back. There was a door and a couple windows. The door was locked and the windows were all but bored up. The only thing he could think of doing was to knock on the door, so he did.

Ashleigh was not a thief, she would take things from corpses she came across- because Hell if the dead had any need for Stimpacks, caps, ammo, clothes or the likes- And most of what she needed she could find out in the wild. She had always had a surprising resistance to radiation, and a stronger stomach than most, able to eat meat from the creatures of the wastelands as well make them edible for other people. But unfortuantely she needed caps to replenish her supplies or buy ammunition for her weapons from time to time and that meant taking up Jobs where they would come up. She had no wish to throw her life away trying to liberate a town of whores and thieves, she had no desire or intention to commit genocide in the name of science hunting ghouls, and didn't care at all for the politics of the Republic and the damned fanaticals in the Legion. So this trader's request as shady as it might be, was the best option. Regrettably it would require her to get involved with the NCR, but caps were caps after all....

Upon her arrival at the side of New Vegas Asheligh would find another traveller who had apparently taken up Rapids' request eyeing the Kings' heavily fortified dwelling, as well the guards getting bored with their current duty and taking thier boredom out on a stray rodent, that she herself could possibly take out with her magnum from 50 yards back. She noticed the other individual try to sneak around back. She could try to do the same, but she figured the diplomatic approach might be better. So she would reach into her bag and pull out the flier that she had decided to take with her before slinging her gun over her shoulder and holstering her pistol as well holding her hands up in a pacifist gesture. "Ho, there! Don't shoot! I'm here to see a Mr. Rapids! I've got a flier for the bounty! I'm not here for a fight! May I come in!?"

Paradise 'Par' Rapids - New Vegas' Lower Strip

Par would be relaxing in his run-down tenement's living room after a long day of maintaining his car, as well as acting as a repairman for his 'protectors' equipment (he technically didn't have to, but it paid to remind the Kings of what he can do for them). Lying down in a sofa, he can hear some knocking on the back door; did someone finally accept the job he had for them? If so, well, best not to keep them waiting.

Getting up, he would walk over to where John was, and, with a smile, the black-haired, grey-eyed young man would tell him:

"So, you came here for the job? If so, come in." Should John accept Par's invitation - there was no reason he wouldn't - Par would take him to the living room, ask him to sit down on one of the chairs, and then say:

"I'm going to make us some tea; it helps with the talking." And unless John stopped him, Par would then go to the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with some fragant herbal tea in small, clean cups. He would then give the details of the job.

"The Crimson Caravan has been secretly working with the Van Graffs to stage attacks on their competitors in the Mojave, ambushing the lesser caravans in order to buy out their owners. This is not only immoral, but cheap; the Crimson Caravan is about taking high risks for high value, not dishonesty against undeserving targets. But you're here for a job and caps, not a spiel from me, and so I'll make it simple:"

"Alice McLafferty and Gloria Van Graff, the leaders of the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff's Energy Weapons store, the Silver Rush, have secret safes that contain concrete evidence that I can send to the NCR's higher-ups, getting them overthrown. Once they are brought down, the Crimson Caravan will be in crisis, allowing even someone as young as me to take over. And when that happens, you will be greatly rewarded." A smile.

"But for now, I will give you a downpayment of 250 caps - just let me get the bag - and, if you accept the job, a detailed map of the security in both Crimson Caravan HQ and Silver Rush." Par then went off to get said bag and map, the former which he will hand over to John, although he would withold the latter for a while.

"Oh," he mentioned almost as an afterthought, "I'm actually sending multiple people after this job, with the same rewards, so expect some company. Nothing against you, I might add, I just want some redudancies. Thankfully, though, if this succeeds, there will be plenty of rewards to go around..." He would then wait for John's reply, and if said reply was a 'yes', Par would wish the guy good luck.

Then after that, he would wait for the next adventurer who offered to take up his job; he had been saving up plenty of credits from successful jobs in order to have the money to hire people for this...adventure.

And, as it turned out, it was sooner than expected, as one of the Kings would enter and say:

"Hey, someone's here to see about your job; she's yelling and hollering at the front door."

"Let her in," Par would say, and Ashleigh would be escorted inside the tenement; there would still be some, cooling, tea left. Then, the merchant would repeat what he said to John; basically, find a way to crack open the safes of Alice McLafferty and Gloria Van Graff, and then give the evidence inside to him; discreetly, of course. He would then give her the downpayment and a copy of the map he had given to John. And with redundancies set, now would be the time to smile at the coming discomfiture of the Crimson Caravan and Silver Rush/Van Graffs...

@thegreenleafe, @APRoll201984

Carmen placed a muscular arm on the counter in front of her before leaning in and squinting her eyes toward the much less imposing figure in front of her. Gloria Van Graff wasn't one to be intimidates however and merely watched Carmen lean in with the same slightly uninterested expression as she did the moment she crossed the door. "Well, do we have a deal?" She repeated to the towering woman. Carmen opened her mouth as if to respond but quickly shut it before leaning back out and clenching her teeth. Each god damn time she entered the Silver Rush she left frustrated and angry since each time, Gloria tried to push the limit of what was an acceptable deal further.

"Deal? Deal?! Perfectly maintained scoped laser rifles, I know very damn well that these would sell for five times the amount you're offering me, and that's if you don't find some sucker to overcharge. So how about you act like you actually want us to keep doing business and give me triple what you're offering?!" Fair is fair, right? Well, apparently not for Gloria who merely scoffed before crossing her arms and staring up the tower of muscles. "Pal, its the price of convenience! After all, I don't know many people who would just buy the amount of energy weapons you bring each time you come to the strip without asking question... and without answering those others might ask. But try me, maybe you have another buyer?" Of course Carmen didn't, both knew this very well. That didn't make Carmen more happy about being a sucker however and her facial traits hardened as she sucked her lips in, taking a deep breath as she glared at the owner of the Silver Rush. Gloria raised a hand to brush of one of the guards who got to attention, ready to shot Carmen if she exploded. Gloria knew Carmen had no options.

Still... Carmen did think about leaving just out of spite. It seemed Gloria had been perceptive enough to sense that however. "Here, I'll give you a cap of discount on every plasma cartridge you buy, since you get them in bulk and all." Yeah, that did little to help the 3 caps increase that had slowly creeped up since Carmen was a 'One woman scarcity provider', buying every single one they had each time she came. But still, Carmen got something and that was enough for her to think to herself 'could have been worst'. "Fine." Gloria smiled. "Glad we have an agreement! And so. You'll take the usual?" Carmen nodded distractedly as Gloria went to take a box marked 'reserved', taking out every plasma cartridges and fusion power core there was inside to place them on the counter. "I'll need capacitors again. Pulse grenades and 5mm ammo with all the caps left." Carmen added, causing Gloria to laugh. "Capacitors? Again? Just how much do you like to turn people into goo to use so many?" Tsk. Carmen wanted to answer her that capacitors were meant to be used at a capacity people in the wasteland consider 'overcharged' in the first place and be changed more often but since barely no plasma capacitors were made anymore the new normal has piss poor output to last longer. But that would reveal a bit too much about Carmen to her tastes and so, she kept silent.

Jeffrey Wagner rarely ventured into Freeside, and as he stepped across the dusty roads, he remembered why. It was all too easy to grow used to the luxury of the Strip and forget the dilapidated and filthy town beyond its gates. Thankfully, Jeffrey planned for this assignment of his to be over quickly.

Nipton has been occupied by the Legion, who seek to set a trap for a presumed NCR counterattack. Disappoint them; there are any number of expendable assets.

And Carmen Durant was exactly the type of expendable asset they needed. It did not take long at all for Jeffrey’s informants to let him know that she had arrived. The woman didn’t quite blend in, after all. He had never met her but he knew enough about her to know that she would be perfect for the task at hand. The most desperate ones always were. So Jeffrey walked through Freeside briskly, going to the Silver Rush where he knew that she would be. He made sure to keep his pistol viewable to others. His clothing made it quite clear that he came from New Vegas, and while he could easily handle the Freeside riffraff, there was no need to spill blood and draw any excess attention

When he entered, it was rather difficult to miss the hulking woman scowling at the counter. “Miss Durant, I presume?” He smiled wryly, stepping forward. “I apologize if I’m interrupting your business but I have a proposition for you.”

Carmen was just about done packing her bags with enough stuff to sway the back of a mule when Jeffrey walked up to her. She turned to face him, a frown on her face. She didn't like it when people recognized her, no matter how easy it was, and liked it even more when they knew in what business she dealt with. She took a quick look to detail the man. Stereotypical Strip goer, with the nice clothes and teenie-tweenie pistol to show he was 'not to be messed with'. Still, his kind usually had caps (or if she was lucky, pre=war money, legion coins or at the very least some large NCR dollar bills. She never understood how could caps possibly be convenient for trade).

"I don't do business with an odience." She said, not bothering to look at Gloria. With this she walked to the door, the steps echoing loudly in the building. Still however, she showed him a sign of the hand to indicate he should follow her. Before they crossed the door though, she stopped and turned toward him, leaning low to be face to face with a dead serious glare in her eyes. "And I warn you, if you're some sick fuck that happens to have a thing for women bigger and stronger than he is, I'm leaving you dead in an alley." It was almost comical. It would have been for Carmen if it hadn't ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

With this she went out in the street. Crowded enough that someone might think twice about killing someone else in the open, but not enough that they couldn't talk privately. "Speak." She simply said.

"I'm looking for somebody capable to perform a job for me," Jeffrey stated simply. "More specifically, somebody who has the combat prowess to attack the town of Nipton, which is currently being held by Legion forces. I doubt it would be too difficult for someone with your abilities."

"Of course, a reward would be offered should you choose to accept this offer of mine. One I think you'll find rather satisfying." Jeffrey adjusted his tie and looked into the tall woman's eyes. "I happen to be aware, Miss Durant, that you are a member of Group Epsilon. I'm also under the impression that your group has not been doing all that well as of late, would that be correct?" He smiled, not waiting for an answer - knowing the truth already. "I have a number of resources at my disposal. And if you do this for me, it would be my pleasure to provide Group Epsilon with the assistance it needs. It would be an awful shame if you were to die out, after all. What say you, Miss Durant?"

Well. That might not be him asking her to whore herself out but it was close enough Carmen did consider leaving him dead in an alley. She was all for killing Legionaires, but... the man knew of her, of her men, and above all anything that was against the legion in this leg of the world screamed NCR to her. Bizarrely she never considered the thought she might just be set up for failure, truely believing that if the NCR wanted her dead they'd just kill her here and now. Surely this man knew of the Enclave's reputation and expected her to be completely able to liberate the town without a problem! There was hesitation, but finally Carmen answered. "...Maybe, but I have my conditions."

_____________________________________________

Years after the bomb fell, the US army still provided treasure troves to those that knew how to breech their bunkers, something that certainly was made much easier when you had a map of their location and series of access codes. The underground fortification that hosted the Epsilon group near Nipton had unfortunately been cleared out long ago but still made the perfect base camp for their little mission. It didn't sit quite right with the group of 12 to do what they perceived as charity to the NCR but the argument of sticking it to the Legion had ultimately won them over... plus, what choice did they have? In the last year they had cracked open numerous pre-war bunkers to pillage their arsenals and likewise had numerous encounters with the Brotherhood that left them each time victorious but less numerous. It was time to use all that firepower they had gained to try and change things.

"Alright, quiet everybody." After cleaning out the molerats and skelletons the office they were using seemed quite comfortable to be honest, though in many ways entertaining the group was like trying to be a teacher in a turbulent class. Carmen of course maintained control because others knew they should listen to her or else. The contrary to poor McMullen at her side who was actually much smarter than she was despite his young-ish appearance but who never was able to impose his leadership. To the team's credit though, most of them were taking notes with interest and care, showing they at least didn't want to die. And they'd have to follow this plan carefully if they didn't want to.

"Alright, thanks to our reconnaissance, we managed to map out the area pretty well and come up with a plan. At first look its pretty much what we'd expect, the enemy is numerous, but lacks in terms of heavy equipment even though the town is significantly better fortified than what we'd be used to see. They have made bunker houses from the local material BUT, they aren't reinforced, which means larger caliber weapons should punch through the old trailers with ease and the enemy would find it awkward to fire while hiding behind awkwardly shaped boulders. We however will aim to not have to use these details." The people were now listening intensely. "Reports indicate we are at least outnumbered 10 to 1 and while we have significant amounts of ammunitions, there are limits to what can be practically carried in a battle. Should we use a direct attack tactic, we will be outgunned and withered down. We can't win this by trying to play the attrition game."

Carmen traced arrows on the wall from 3 different directions going into Nipton. "The main road is obviously the most closely watched so its out. We also spotted a ridge that could provide decent cover as we advance but considering patrols and guard locations, I've determined that it was most likely a stop to prime an ambush so we'll skip over it. As you might notice, these lines to exactly through the mine field and the traps and are completely in the open. Which is why we will go there in 2 days time as it is a moonless night. Under the cover of total darkness we will, very slowly, creep up on Nipton and fully use our night vision advantage. This is where we begin phase 2."

"We will start the engagement with the fatman since we're all tired of lugging it around and I see no better place to use it and rush in these entry points here, here and here using smoke grenades for cover. Once we are in, we will unload everything we have. I expect no conservation of ammo and we'll be going full heavy guns. Shock and Awe. By numbers alone victory is unachievable but the enemy doesn't know that. By attacking from multiple directions and with such force and violence we will be able to confuse and route the enemy."

Well... considering what manpower they had it was an 'ok' plan. It could work. There was however a hand that rose in the back rows. "Ma'am. What about the civilians?" Carmen shrugged. "What about them?"

Ashleigh would look over the map good a couple of times before comminting it to memory and pocketing her down payment; then she would finish drinking her tea and looking to John before replying "I'm used to doing for myself by myself. Always have. But this time I think I ought make an exception. I have a feeling this job would go ten times smoother ifanot faster, if'n neither of us had to worry bout the other one upping them or trying to stick a knife in da back, don'chu? Two heads are better than one, and I know the Mojave like the back of my hand; not to mention can hunt, cook and prepare game meat like few others. Would help us keep a low profile by taking back dirt roads folks don't normally travel. As long as its an animal and not an abomination or mutie, I can take it down and cook it. Furthermore, Ol' Khan here will keep us safe. Saved more life a good number o times, the varmint has. What do you say? I'll split is even. Girls scout's honor." She finished making the girl scout salute for good measure.

John Williams

John looked at Ashleigh, taking in her words as well as her tough demeanor. Her gear was reminded him of the wasteland, a little scarred up, but it was still together. Perhaps that was idealistic, but a little bit of that in the wasteland probably wouldn’t kill anyone.

“A man is only as good as his word,” his tribal accent dancing on the end of his words, “ the only problem I see is the safes. Every bobby pin I come across becomes mangled. Unless you can pick it we have the options of outside help or tricks. If we can’t rely on a freesider we can only hope to talk our way in.” Again John took in Ashleigh. They perhaps weren’t the best pick for the job. Maybe with a little luck and if luck doesn’t do it a .357 might.

The sky was slowly taking a darker color. “Ashleigh tomorrow we can take to New Vegas, but this area gets dangerous at night. Those Kings are not carrying those machine guns for nothing. There’s a building further down that isn’t too destroyed.” The duo took flight and walked down the street further. After a couple of turns Par’s tenement was out of sight and John had the feeling, just an itch he could not scratch, something or somebody was stalking them. John casually pulled the hammer back and the click rang out into the deadly silence of the night.

((Outskirts of Nipton))
The boulder was making a soft, sandpapery sound against the elbow reinforcements on the Hazmat Suit. Darlen could see very clearly in the onset of evening: and very far through the scope of his weapon. There was less shoveling underway at Nipton: instead, the Legion men were sorting out their positions. Was this really just a big invitation? Darlen found the Legion’s method of operation here outlandish. They would rather have Nipton destroyed by their enemies and the majority of it’s residents killed than to take it over, assimilate it. This trap wasn’t very “Nova Roma” of them.

The politics of the situation wasn’t his prime concern. Darlen needed to make his move the moment he saw an opportunity to unleash chaos, and under the cover of confusion and darkness, he would be able to retrieve his sister. He searched the terrain around Nipton like a hawk scanning for prey. That’s when he saw them.

At the head of the line was a Legion man, trussed up in extravagant headgear and carrying a brush rifle. Behind him were six children, Niptonites, each shackled to another child. And in the back of the line, a traitor. It was his old school teacher, with a pistol holstered, helping guide the children along, presumably on the march now toward Cottonwood cove. That bitch… Darlen was ready to shoot her legs out from under her. He had gained a lot of experience in making precise shots on the human body in the Big Empty, taking down the strange enslaved residents of the place.

Darlen waited. Then finally, the line was far enough away from the rest of the entrenched Legion. He rained fire on the foremost man, quickly puncturing him between twenty and thirty times in but two seconds. As he crumpled to the ground, the traitor panicked, fumbling with her gun, her hands too slick to properly ready it. Darlen moved on her, slamming her in the stomach with the face of his weapon, toppling her over. ”What have you done…” Darlen’s growling, somewhat muffled voice echoed out from under his mask. His glowing eyes shocked the traitor, and she turned completely pale as she rolled on the ground, trying to put space between them and recover. Near her Darlen spotted a key that had escaped her possession. He took it and rushed to his sister: the other two sets of children had separated and begun to run towards the road, but she had turned and forced her partner in binds to stay when she heard her brother’s voice. He unlocked her chain, and just as the manacles popped free with a soft metal click he heard the snap-crack of a bullet launched and tearing through the air. The traitor had shot the boy Chloe had been manacled together with in the head, presumably by mistake while aiming for Darlen’s dark armored frame. Her gun had launched from her hands when she fired and struck her forehead, knocking her unconscious as blood streamed from her nose. Darlen left her to that, lifting his sister easily off the ground and dashing away into the night. He was making a beeline for Novac, and then… The 188 Trading Post.

The Crimson Caravan Job

Considering how dangerous the Wasteland was, of course someone would be stalking them, although said stalker would not make any apperance for the night. In the building they had settled in, they would find themselves sufficiently cozy to sleep in shifts, and when the next day came, they would be ready. However, what would be their options? Lockpicking was out of the question, but nothing says they couldn't pick pockets for a key that their opponents already had...

Novac

It seemed that even in this changed universe, one Craig Boone was going to be the Legion's enemy one way or another. And with him as an NCR commander in this timeline, help would come to Darlen swifter than expected, as one of the patrols under him would intercept Darlen and Chloe as they tried to make their way to Trading Post 188, their squad leader saying:

"Halt! Who goes there!" before noticing the haggard look of the two travellers, before saying, more mildly:

"Do you need help? You look like you've been through hell!"

Nipton

Reports would arrive to the local Centurion, as well as Artificer King Actus about the death of their patrol and the attack on one of their soldiers who was engaged in the 'private business' of slavery, with one of the few Niptonite townsfolk who had been allowed to betray their town knocked unconcious.

The Centurion would order more crosses put up; more Niptonites will die for this, starting with the traitor schoolteacher.

Of course, Actus can countermand this, but he would only have some minutes to do so...because unknown to him or the Centurion, Carmen was arrriving with her squad and ordnance.

@chiru@ClocktowerEchos@Wernher@thegreenleafe@APRoll201984@Hippocamp@Vulkan

It was already 3h pass midnight. Group Epsilon, now divided between Zeta team, headed by Carmen herself, Eta team by the ordinarily reckless John Brams, eager to use his two ripper chain swords, Theta team by the silent but always cool William Nash, awaiting to rush in the breech with his flamethrower and finally Iota team which would stay in support behind with their launchers, guided by the older Xavier Himmelmann with his fatman ready to bombard the town with what few nukes they had.

Normally Carmen and John would squirm in their armors due to the extremely slow pace clearing the mine field had but as per the order of Carmen, everyone was at the moment using 'Chemical assistance' to keep cool, having thus popped a mentat before going in. Most people were fine with mentats, but there had been protest about phase two, which involved combat drugs inoculation, those being more commonly known across the wastes as 'Psycho'. Buffout was also something better tolerated by the group, but with power armors? No point in increasing your strength.

"Zeta 1, this is Zeta 2, we're clear of zone Orange-Nine, ready to enter Purple-Nine, over." Carmen had kept her head down during most of the crawling but she allowed herself to peek up. The legion bunkers were within grenade throwing range (quite a length, considering Carmen's throwing arm) and Theta was already in position. Unusually for Brams, he was last. "This is Zeta 1." Said Carmen in the radio. "Eta 1, status report, over."

"Zeta 1, this is Eta 1, just one mine left to clear over." Good, this meant that the plan was thus far in synch, it seemed like good luck for them thus far. "All teams, this is Zeta 1, ready SGs and deploy on Eta 1's signal to begin phase 2, over and out."

Someone beside Carmen shuffled in the dark to ready a smoke grenade as the others went on to prepare their dose of phycho, waiting anxiously for things to go loud. "...Jesus Christ in heaven, watch over us as we fight in thy name..." Carmen clenched her teeth, Vincent was always vocal when he was about to possibly die. "Complete Silence, Corporal." And so he did.

"Eta 1 to all teams, GO! GO!"

One of the men in power armor unpinned a grenade and got up on his feet. In the distance, Carmen saw a shimmer of star light reflecting on metal as William's team did the same. A few seconds later, 3 bouts of smokes were visible around the camp as alarmed voices were raised.

"All teams, advance!"

Carmen got on her feet, raising her plasma caster as her men did the same, advancing swiftly toward the smoke. Suddenly, a familiar whizling sound was heard and moments after there was an explosion some distance in front of them the atomic blastwave making the power armors stand still for a moment before they continued onward the mushroom cloud that cleared the way in front of them.

"Iota 1, N-1 fired right on target, firing N-2!"

Now assured Xavier didn't lose his aim, Carmen rushed in the breech at full speed, entering second after one of her men. It was then that she saw them, the legionnaires rushing toward them in a hurry and with bravery. They hadn't seen them yet as the Enclave troopers used thermals to see through the smoke, showing their technological edge. Carmen raised her plasma caster, the soldier in front of them pulling the trigger on his minigun making that fearsome spinning noise that caused most of the legionaires to stop in their track. They raised their eyes in fear as they heard that sound, feeling the earth tremble under the steel boots of the power armors and finally, when they saw the glowing eyes, the distinctive features of the X01 power armor the enclave used, walking toward them in the smoke.

"Contact. Liquidating."

The minigun began to spew its leed, the first wave of reinforcement being mowed down in seconds. Carmen fired her own destructive plasma on the lines, the psycho keeping her on a murderous edge as everyone before her fell, a simple hit in the arm insuring a lost limb and agonizing pain as green goo that burned everything that it touched splashed on their chests and faces.

In the camp behind this wave, those that didn't know what was going on quickly enough realized it was an attack as missiles came flying from team Iota to hit the frontline defenses and as tiny 25mm grenades showered the camp. Epsilon had indeed acquired a grenade machinegun but had decided to use it as an indirect fire weapon, shooting it in a high angle to hit enemies behind cover.

"Keep on firing! Begin maneuvers and check for cross fires!"

The armored soldiers surged forward as around them two more nukes detonated before their reserves were spent. It was now a matter of forcing the legion out before the rest of their guns went silent, hundreds of ammunition being spent every seconds by the miniguns.

The crimson caravan needs Maxwell's help once again. He was reluctant at first, but the caravan was never stingy with their caps when it came to professional stelth. Maxwell had drug himself across the Mojave wastes to get a hold of the caravan. It seemed that this time he needed to stalk two aledged NCR helpers who may be stalking them. This job seemed easy enough and he didn't mind taking a simple job for once, besides, it's sort of hard to say no to 800caps.

Maxwell made sure to keep his distance as he watched the two of them travel. He knew something was up, but his job currently was strictly recon. If he found out anything he was to return and than would be instructed further. For more caps of course. In the mean time he chose to keep his distance and make sure that no one would see him. Due to his short stature it was quite easy to hide should anyone try to see him. He was always prepared just in case something we're to go wrong. Lighting a cigarette Maxwell looked through his scope as he locked his sights in on the two up ahead of him. "I think I'll hold here for a moment" he said to himself as he kept the distance just inside ear shot.

As night settled he set up camp just behind a rock keeping an eye on the building the two settled into. Luckily his lonely life had trained him to stay awake for days so this recon would be a breeze, at least, so it seemed this far.

((Exiting Novac))
Darlen had remained in good shape during the trek to Novac, and his endurance hadn't faltered. He relayed what he had seen to the NCR patrol, and they mentioned Craig Boone to him. Darlen hadn't heard of the man: or the name of any NCR higher operative for that matter. In any case, since the NCR was failing to take action all over the wasteland as the Mohave deteriorated, Darlen figured he could safely rule them as irrelevant. It was nice to see that Novac wasn't being turned into a bloodbath by child slavers. At least there was some good being brought by another military presence than the Legion in the Mohave. But Darlen didn't imagine that his sister would be safe in this town, when it seemed to be next on the block after Nipton. He had to get Chloe further from land where men filled each other with lead in acts of petty dominance. So unless Craig Boone had words for him explicitly, he was going to be on the road again. He bought food and water from the NCR squad leader, in addition to what the man had given in kindness to his sister. Darlen watched her eat a well-preserved steak in the desert moonlight. He guessed that after two years she would have many questions for him, but for now tears streaked her face and patted into the sand. It would take a long time for either of them to fully adjust to what had happened at Nipton.

But as Darlen had learned, in the Mohave and in many places both far and strange. It was a world of killers. If his sister was going to be truly safe, she had to be able to guard herself. And that meant becoming one, too.

He readied himself for the road, and took his sister by the shoulders. Was this really the first night of my return? Darlen thought. It feels like the sun couldn't possibly wish to rise on a land so barren and broken as the Mohave. But Chloe knew nowhere else. Darlen was soon to ponder whether that should change, before the sands covered both of them like a funeral shroud.

Novac

Craig Boone would listen to Darren sympatethically, then say:

"It is a shame to have someone lose his home to such monsters. Thankfully, an NCR counterattack is mustering, and I'm going to lead several of the infantry battalions needed for that. However, we'd need someone who knows the town and local geography if we're going to avoid what traps there are. Said counterattack is also in three days, so if you can wait for that, well, let's just say my wife can take care of your sister; far better than enduring the threats of the wastes, right?

If Darren was still set on leaving, Boone would at least give Darren extra supplies and caps...

@Hippocamp

Nipton

The Legion was caught off-guard by this sudden attack by...the Brotherhood? Thier 'Father Elijah' must be more insnae than thought! But whoever it was, they were doing to Nipton what Vulpes had wanted, wreaking untold havoc on the town, the fortifications, and the human shields. But Artificer King Actus, now the acting leader of the defense, sent the signal for the counterattack anyway - the light troops were withdrawn, and from the alleys and burning buldings stormed the medium troops held in reserve, attacking in wedge formations with the front of each wedge being led by an armored man with a super sledge that can crush even Power Armor, flanked by two soldiers wielding thermic lances, and the far corners held by people shooting brush guns.

At the same time, two bands of frumentarii were sent to clear the way to retreat, and sneak their way to where the nuke guns were, respectively...

"The enemy is reacting faster than anticipated, so much for an easy victory." That was Brams, doing away with coms ethiquette. Normally Carmen would have said something about it but considering there was 12 of them and they all knew each other's voice by heart it was a little bit redundent at the moment. That and Carmen had other things to focus on as the 'medium' soldiers were leading a counter attack. The use of quotes seemed important here since after all they had attacked in the dept of night and such a quick counter attack came at a price, some Legion soldiers hadn't had the time to done their armor! Not that it made much difference in front of Carmen's plasma caster. Ultimately this resistence was futile: The melee soldiers didn't step a feet outside that they were mowed down by laser, plasma and 5mm bullets. Even the oh so dastardly brush guns were silenced by the sheer volume of firepower sent their way and the moment one raised his head he was sure to catch a projectile in his skull. They simply didn't have the firing speed needed to counter the supressive fire sent their way and so, they were just meat waiting to be diced by frag grenades.

On the outside of the town, Iota team had fired its last nukes and Xavier sat on the ground with his grenade machinegun between his legs, bracing it to fire like a mortar at the town. He and his men weilding missile launchers and plasma rifles on their backs for close quarter defense hadn't seen the infiltrators... yet. But each step they took brought them closer to detection for darkness didn't hide them from the Enclave's night vision gear.

As the Epsilon Cell got closer and closer to the town hall, the Artificer King would try another tack; at his signal, barrels filled with turpentine oil will be flipped over by a crude mechanism using levers and strings, launching a flood of flammable fluid that would reach the Epsilon cell's feet. This was originally intended as a trap for NCR Infantry, and would have doubtless killed a few dozen of them once they had been lit by snipers using incendary ammunition. With the Epsilon cell, however, the snipers weren't needed, as they were lighting up the city in fire themselves.

So, they would be confronted with a wall of fire, a wall of fire that might - might - discomfit even them enough for the remaining troops to regroup; the medium troops would begin laying down proper fire from their own guns and ballistic fists, while brave light troops/hastati would throw petrol bombs at the enemy.

Nevertheless, this was only to buy time for the cache of flammable materials (dynamite, fertilizer, oil, and even human dung) that had been contained in the town hall to be set to blow up in five minutes (so that the Artificer King can evacuate in time); not even power armor can survive such an explosion intact.

And finally, the infiltrators trying to take on the artillery, once they realized they were dealing with what they thought were Father Elijah's Brotherhood, began to use rocks, trees, and depressions in the ground as cover, while at the same time trying to present a low profile...

Carmen's initial surprise at the flames that lit up at her feet was quickly changed to mild irritation. It was in no way a trouble for them, the armors were flame-proof after all, but the thick smoke and heat blocked their vision and their sensors. No matter, the enemy was affected as well and so Carmen kept moving forward, confident she wouldn't end up face to face with an enemy as after all, they didn't have flame proof armors. "Everything's on schedule still, keep pushing them out!"

Time was too expensive to be bought by the Legion.

Epsilon didn't stop for a second to clear a building, instead allowing the troops with their flame throwers to light it up and leave everyone inside to die a horrible death. The NCR would have bought the bait and entered since they wanted to recapture the town, but Carmen's only mission was to push the legion out, even if that meant leaving no town behind. And so, from the flames walked out a demon as William Nash lifted his flamer and doused the town hall in napalm, the thick gell like substance clinging to people and all surfaces.

"Out of missiles!"

Iota team had expended the arsenal they had brought with them almost entirely now, only the grenades kept raining on the disorganized light troops to further put the pressure on them. Loweing their missile launchers the soldiers looked at the town, lit aflame, with jeering cheers. It would all be over soon. One soldier believed he caught something with his eyes though and turned to face the darkness, his yellow eyes menacingly scanning the darkness. Stakes were high, that grenade machinegun could end all the infiltrators in a single burst but still they remained undetected.

Artificer King Actus had almost managed to get out of the town, his remaining usable assets in tow, when William Nash set fire to the town hall and pre-emptively lit the 'bonfire' he had been preparing for the NCR but were now taken by Epsilon Cell. It was too late for him as he was engulfed by the explosion, an explosion that would at least blast William Nash in explosive force, heat, and flame, which might probably end his life thanks to power that not even his armor can withstand. Depending on how close the rest of his team was, a few others would die in the explosion that would engulf most of Nipton, whose deafening sound would at least crack Carmen's visor.

Not merely that, but unless Iota team were inhuman in their ability to not get distracted, the explosion would draw their attention...for enough time for the infiltrators to reach them and attack with thermic lances and cowboy repeaters at a range close enough to be dangerous.

The explosion certainly did take everyone by surprise, many being forced to kneel from its force, but not Carmen. No, what forced Carmen on the ground was the small house being blown off, that explosion after hundreds of years of decrepitude being the final blow its structure could handle. There was no pain, as Carmen was on an adrenaline and psycho fueled rampage but as she was picking herself up, a hand came to grab the neck plate of her armor. She assumed it was a companion here to help her up but as she looked up, she saw a man. Tall, extremely muscular with a power fist going straight into her stomach. The sound of metal against metal and what she assumed was a rib cracking filled her ears. "You guys just don't know when to quit..." The man readied for a second punch with a smile of confidence in his face but as the fist flew, Carmen showed how these armors could be surprisingly nimble and grope his wrist, using her strength her armor and his own momentum to make him fly above her.

She picked herself up as did the man who came back running at her. She was good enough at boxing that she did manage to dodge the first blow and counter with a quick jab on his face. To keep it from exploding, he dodged and countered. But Carmen saw an opening: He had one power fist. But like any fighter, fought with two hands. She grope the fist and looked at the man in the eyes. She now stood a head taller than him thanks to her power armor. Now starting to see his own death, the man prepared for a power fist swing, but was stopped by Carmen head butting him, breaking his nose. The punch, even with the fist, didn't have enough energy to damage Carmen who promptly broke his arm. Pitifully he turned to make a hasty retreat but only saw other power armored figures. Some finishing the wounded and others looking at him with amusement. Powerful hands grope his neck and his own life was ended as Carmen broke his neck.

"I think that means we won." Said one of the soldiers from Iota team. They laughed, except for Himmelman however, who merely stopped firing. "All assault teams, status report please." Suddenly there was a detonation, a close one. The soldier hit turned to face the danger, confused that his helmet had suddenly dinged against his skull but was met by a guy with a thermal lance. He tried to pull back, place distance but tripped in doing so. Probably what saved his life though as the lance missed him and the lancer was felled by a plasma bolt. His dead body hid but also hindered his ally who charged the turtle on his back but managed only to stab him in the leg, causing intense pain in the Enclave soldier. The troopers jumped in cover as much as they could, taken by surprise. All except Himmelman who merely rose up and lifted his machinegun toward the enemy. All it took was indeed a burst to vaporize the enemy. Still, it was annoying they had been taken by surprise like this, the heat and light of the lances should have given them away.

"Carmen here, we pushed them out, its done."

"John here, my fucking chainsaw jammed in the middle of the fight!"

"What a terrible casualty... Anyways. William. William, report in!"

"This is Charles... He was blown away by the explosion and ended in a brick wall. The armor is still intact but I think he got internal injury and his organs were crushed by the force."

In the town, Carmen looked at the smoking crater that was in the middle of the city. There had been 23 of them when they left to go west. Now it was 11.

"...Scuttle his armor and weapons. If the body is... still in a single piece we'll evacuate it, else we'll burry it here. Unmarked grave so the next to come won't desecrate him."