---

@Leos Klien@Andronicus23

As the sun dawns upon the Commonwealth - a new day and future has started to dawn upon the desolate plains constantly plagued by raiders, thugs and radiation storms. But as it has happened, the scale of balance has slowly but surely started to tilt in the opposite direction - as the situation is ripe for many factions to slowly start enforcing their will upon the Commonwealth once more.

As it is, the most technologically advanced and once-rulers of the Wastes have been given a rather opportune chance to develop themselves further than before. Namely there has been rumors among merchants and traders that one of them has uncovered something called a Beryllium Agitator. To the regular people, it doesn't sound much beyond a fancy tech from the Old War that is likely unusable in the current time of the world.

For the Institute it was a step in regaining their lost glory, as such a device was also needed for the Old Institute Reactor - yet some scientists among them have assured - that they could reconstruct their old reactor, provided the beryllium agitator is recovered.

A similar situation is given to the Enclave as well - as such a device might easily power their equipment and technology - both civilian and military, with limitless amounts of clean and free energy.

Although both these factions are unknowingly challenged by the Brotherhood of Steel whom are eager to recover the beryllium agitator and start reconstruction Liberty Prime that they had kept in the Boston Airport for months now upon their arrival in the Commonwealth and subsequent destruction of most of their members and exodus of the others.

---

@CaptainBritton@Elgappa@Genni

For those fighting for freedom, the people or simply security for all - the constant fighting in the Commonwealth had slowly come to a close. As most of the heavier raider and slaver gangs had been wiped-out in the crossfire or simply had been subject to so much fighting, that most of them had either broken apart and weakened beyond any recovery. Or had decided to pack their kits and head out for Nuka World that was said to be in the middle of a gang war - with plenty of land to spare.

As thus, it allowed the Mechanist a first time 'all-clear' signal from most of her robots - whom were reporting zero activity in bodily harm or hostile weaponized interaction between the people and other people. Her robots were also reporting zero activity around her area. Meaning now was a perfect time as any to resume activity above ground - especially with the tales of the Minutemen becoming more and more talked about on the radio.

For the two likely only intact Minutemen factions left in the Commonwealth a cease in fighting was likely a blessing for both - as it meant less people dying and less raiders needing to be killed for both the people of Vault 81 and Fort Heath. It meant a breather, a chance to lick their wounds and look towards the future. Yet, how the two factions would view each other remains to be seen - as the civvies among them talk, if there is a chance for unification and a chance to restore law to the Commonwealth. Or if the Minutemen of old are truly gone, and those remaining are still subject to political infighting like before.

---

@Polaris North

For the people of Goodneighbor it was a regular day as any, as long as one didn't mind sleeping in a town that was filled with chem-addicts, dealers of both sex, drugs and arms and if one didn't mind walking around carrying a gun on them. Since the Days of Chaos, that had turned the Commonwealth upside down and exposed those few whom lived within it to the harsh realities of life - Goodneighbor had remained as it was.

A free society, ruled over by John Hancock where the rule of freedom and equality ruled - by the law and might of John Hancock. However things have been changing - as during the chaos more people had arrived, than even Goodneighbor could maintain. A few of them were the regular thugs and bandits, whom were allowed to stay provided they kept their act outside the walls. Some of them however, were regular people - farmers and settlers, whom hoped for a safe place to lay low and hopefully help improve their new home.

That has caused friction among the more criminally inclined part of the population - whom are more eager to keep their way of life, even at the risk of breaking Mayor Hancock one rule. Thus, the Mayor of Goodneighbor is faced with a new challenge - either to reform the established or expand Goodneighbor even further into the ruins of Boston.

---

@Wampower

In Diamond City, another person would soon be facing the same challenges as was the leader of Goodneighbor. But first, that person needed to be elected - with the revelation of Mayor McDonough having been a synth all along came as a shock to many. Especially, as his rampage had caused the death of his secretary - the only person, whom might have by chance been able to take over after the Mayor.

Thus, in five years since their last election - Diamond City had organized another one. As always, the elections were more or less already skewed in favor of a certain individual. Namely that being Piper Wright - the editor and journalist of Publick Occurrences. Due to her rather constant verbal spars and continuing resistance against the Mayor in the previous years - the journalist suddenly had her popularity change from ostracized to people asking her to take over - due to her being the only person right on the counts of the Mayor being crooked and the Institute actually having a hand in Commonwealth activities.

In that regard, Piper would find herself swept up by the mob, towards the political office whether she wanted or not. As in the weeks of 'political discourse' - Piper would barely have to even attend or speak-out. As her opponent would be Henry Cooke, an upper-class bar owner whom the majority of Diamond City barely even interacted with. As it was, in the Diamond City marketplace - the votes were being counted. A few for Cooke, a ball of noodles for some strange reason and many times more votes for Piper.

---

The bugle cut through the dawn like a knife of brass. The sun was not yet even peaked above the hills, and each watch read somewhere around 6:00 AM. The bugle continued to blast, playing a crisp 'Reveille' which resonated throughout the Fort with unparalleled power. The echo rang in Church's ears as he sat by dim candlelight. His own watch read 5:58, and he'd hoped dearly for it to somehow be wrong.

He adjusted in the lopsided hand-carved wooden chair, leaning over a piece of yellowed paper lined with boxes and smudged ink that barely could pass for words. He gripped the pencil in his hand and hastily checked a few boxes before extending his legs, the poorly made chair groaning as Church rose to his feet. He folded the paper and grabbed his reading glasses from the table, ambling to the entrance to his hut. He slid his feet into a pair of perhaps too well broken in black boots. Grasping at the faded greenish blue wool and cotton frock coat, he pulled it around his figure, tucking the paper and reading glasses within, before fitting it further and buttoning it. He took a quick bite of some stale hardtack as he fitted a sheathed foot saber and loaded his Smith & Wesson Model 10, opening the almost vertical stairs and ascending the sunken step boards.

He was met with fair enough weather, at least for the Commonwealth, a slight overcast with the orange of the rising sun burning through the clouds with immense power. He glanced around, adjusting the collar of his frock coat, pulling a green forage cap from within and fitting it on his head. His eyes fixated to the lighthouse, as they always had, but he found it still in the state of rubble it had been when it had been brought down two weeks ago. Old chunks of clay and brick were contained mostly to the area immediately around the lighthouse, but it seemed that otherwise, none had bothered to pick up the rest of the debris.

He turned, ambling to the muster square in the center of all the half-buried huts, where the bugler, a young Corporal, stood, bringing his hand to a crisp salute as Colonel Church appeared. Responding with a half-hearted acknowledgement, hardly a salute, the Colonel grunted something that could've been speech, but the Corporal seemed to know exactly what it meant. The young soldier pressed the bugle to his lips, blasting 'Assembly' and returning to a rigid position of attention.

Little by little, men and women in faded uniforms of blue and green, so drab and matted they looked almost purple trickled out of their communal huts, rifles, shotguns, and even some proper automatic weapons in tow. A ragged bunch, they were, all blocked off into four groups of about thirty, with their commanders and such stood in the front of them. As the arrivals ceased, the Corporal, in his sharp voice, announced, "Regiment, to attention!"

The soldiers abided, standing rigid and shouldering their firearms, before their commanders, which stood before them, swiveled to face Colonel Church, each saluting. Church returned the salutes, before picking the paper and his glasses from his pocket. "Well, no point in getting around it. We all know what we're here for." He spoke calmly, his voice carrying as unfolded the paper, fitting on his glasses. He read off, "Today's garrison duty, Companies B and D, single platoon to each guardhouse." He continued, a bit of coughing and sniffling from the men as they waited. "Pickets have come back that the raiders have abandoned the siege. Company A will be performing scavenging duty for today. That puts Company C on R&R for today."

He paused for a long moment, speaking even quieter than before. "Dismissed." The companies fell out, attending to their duties as the Colonel waved off his staff, which crowded around him like bees to a hive. As he ambled towards the headquarters cabin, he reached in his pocket, ignoring protests of his younger adjutants as he lit a clay pipe.

---

... "Et volia! We are back on air. Bonjour mes Amis, Comrade Curie speaking, and i am so happy to have you. You are hearing Peoples Liberation Radio, avec moi, your little voice in your ear! But enough of moi, there is once more, a very important person, wanting to talk to you! Mesdames et messieurs, the Chairman!"

---

---

"..hearing him speaking like this, almost makes me wish it was not a recording! Oh, did i said that aloud? Oops! Well, lets continue with a bit of music, shall we?

---

"Of cause i am not really planning on handing them rifles, you idiots!" Jones let out a sigh, as he began to rub his nose, before once more guiding his cigar to his lips. "Handing out weapons for free to everyone and their mother...that is how the Minutemen fell apart!" Getting of the table, Chairman Jones made his way towards the small group of officers and Commissars in front of him, cramped into the old Overseers office. "I was talking figuratively! A rifle of ideas and hopes.." Pointing with his cigar towards the red flag draping the room, he slowly walked towards the large round window, looking down at the working people below.

"Are talking about three figurative meals as well, Chairman?" Jones turned around on his heel, looking at the asking face of Comrade-Lieutenant Combes, holding up a notepad to write down his personal orders. "Are you getting cute with me, Comrade Combes?" The tall man only needed a few steps to cross the distance, as the rest of the group quickly made ways, knowing that this question clearly had woken Jones anger. "No, Si...i mean Comrade Chairman i..." Staring into the mans eyes, the Chairman kept the same stare up, that had made him rather famous during his days as a minutemen, able to crack open any man. "You all are dismissed, Comrades! All except you, Comrade-Commissar!"

Returning to his desk, the Chairman did not check if everyone else had left, knowing that few if anyone would dare to disobey his very commands. Hearing the door closing, the Chairman took another deep breath from his cigar, before blowing out the Tabbac laced breath. "You made the arrangements, Comrade-Commissar?" A moment of silence followed, before the Chairman let out a sigh. "Permission to speak, Comrade De Luca!" Some more time passed, and Jones could once more take in the cigar, before the Commissar had found words. "You constantly preached that the Brotherhood is the greatest enemy we have, yet you want me to find a way to contact them...it makes me think!" Turning around, the chairman raised an eyebrow, before sinking into his seat. "Good, that is why what i have political Officers for! To question and think! Let me put it this way, lass..." Leaning forward over the table, he looked the woman into the eyes. "We have a great position to work from, yet, the Brotherhood only needs to sneeze, and we are history! So, we need to get them onto our side, at least for the moment! And what better way to do so, then by making them believe that they have us in the pocket, rallying the eyes of all who are against them somewhere else..."

---

"A better future underground"

Director Victor Harland sat staring at the pre-war Vault-Tec poster on the wall of the Vault 118 overseer's office which proudly proclaimed one of the company's many overly optimistic mottos. The naive propaganda of the pre-war America was one of the most annoying things about picking through the bones of the old world.

"A better future underground..." He scoffed, "The only future underground, would have perhaps been more apropos."

Victor stood up and walked over to the large round glass window which was set against the side wall of the Overseer's office, and looked out into the Vault's great atrium. Down below, he could see Synths, reprogrammed robots, and Vault Institute personnel alike, scurrying about like worker bees, doing their upmost to improve the Vault and make it as homely as possible for The Institute personnel and their families which had been forced to use it for refugee. They had been hard at work renovating the Vault ever since they'd arrived. The Facilities Division had become more important than ever in this effort, and all personnel on non-essential projects had effectively been drafted by Facilities to assist with the "CIT Relocation Initiative": the flowery name that the Directorate had chosen to give their forced flight from The Commonwealth and their establishment in Bar Harbor.

Already much had been done. The Vault's reactor had been repaired and its efficiency boosted by nearly double. The reactor was nothing like they'd had back home, but it was adequate to power what they needed for the time being. Likewise, the Vault's water purifier was found to be in a state of neglect, but was still functioning. Strangely enough, while the robotic former residents had very little if any need of water, they'd used quite a bit of it over the years. From what Victor understood, this had apparently been due to the Robobrain's tendency to "relieve their glory days" and so things like re-filling the water of the indoor Vault beach had been made a priority.

The fact that such a thing as an 'indoor beach' had existed here alone was ridiculous enough, and the more he had come to know this Vault, the more Victor had come to despise it. Here was a testament to the folly of the pre-war generation. The excessive luxury, the horrendous wasteful use of resources for the over-indulgence for sport and pleasure, and the gaudy trappings of a society that was quite obviously full of itself.

That would change now. Down would come the ridiculous red-velvet curtains and the chandeliers. The 'indoor beach' had already been drained and plans to turn it into a possible hydroponics greenhouse were already underway by Bioscience, who were planning ahead for when their stock of nutritional supplements ran out. Things would become more sensible now: more utilitarian and orderly. The Institute wasn't opposed to enjoying a few well earned comforts in life of course...but this....this nonsense from a bygone age would stop.

Victor thought back to what he'd believe The Institute had been striving for. Back before The Brotherhood's arrival. A new world. A world that would be led by the guiding principles of scientific advancement and dedicated to the progression of the human condition. "Mankind Redefined", that had been their motto. To redefine the very definition of what it meant to be human: to change the nature of the human experience itself.

"We'll never stop striving for that," Victor muttered under his breath, "Now that I'm Director, I'll continue to uphold your legacy...Father."

The sound of the Overseer's office door sliding open caused Victor to break out of his meandering thoughts and turn to see who it was. Into the room stepped over his SRB Coursers, a stern looking woman which short shaved hair and dressed in the usual armored uniform. With the death of Justin Ayo and Alana Secord, and as a leading member of the SRB, Victor had been the next-in-line, as it were, to succeed to the Directorship of the Bureau. And with the Bureau's function as an intelligence agency essential to the CIT Relocation Initiative, it had been natural for him to be a prime candidate to succeed Father as Director as well. As such, he was now both Director of the SRB, as well as Acting Director of The Institute.

"Director Harland," The female Courser greeted him, "Request permission to give my report, sir."

"Yes, go ahead Z9."

"Thank you sir...Courser Units Z3-66, X2-53, and Y4-99 all returned successfully. SRB Agents debriefed them immediately upon returning, as per protocol. Attempts to penetrate further into the Fog has proved difficult, and the units report that the toxicity levels appears to increase substantially further into the island's interior. Some of the larger and more aggressive creatures have also been spotted deeper inland as well, and from our Synths currently investigating the town of 'Far Harbor', we've learned that the locals know these creatures as 'Fog Crawlers'. They appear to be an heavily mutated form of the pre-war Stomatopoda. Unit Y4 was also able to confirm the location of 'The Nucleus' but did not approach as per orders."

"Hmm. Cease further expeditions inland for the time being. We've learned enough I believe to understand that this island is an extremely hostile landscape. The best I can compare it to is perhaps the 'Glowing Sea' impact zone in The Commonwealth. Hardly an ideal relocation zone, but as we've detected no immediate contamination problems in the Vault...I suppose it doesn't matter. It may even help to shield us from aggression should we ever be discovered. Is there any word from The Commonwealth?"

Z9 nodded, "We haven't heard anything more from Nahant as of yet, but the informants we still have in The Commonwealth have been picking up on a number of interesting rumors. Specifically these are in regards a possible Beryllium Agitator, which according to our sources, may have been acquired by a group of unknown scavengers. I was not privy to the full details, but as I understand it, this is the device which the Mass Fusion operation had intended to acquire?"

"The very same," Victor nodded, "It was corner-cutting solution to the issue of time when it came to implementing Phase 3. I can't say how valuable it could be to us now, but if it could be acquired, then recreating Phase 3 might very well be possible."

"I understand that further investigation is warranted then?"

"I'll speak with the Directorate. But yes, it very well might be. I don't want to play our hand too strongly however, especially not for something that, while valuable, is not necessary at this stage. The security of this Vault takes priority over any other concern."

"Understood sir. To that end as well, I've begun implementing the security sweep protocol that you've asked be put in place. SRB has taken over internal security from Facilities Division entirely now."

"Hmm good. That should allow them to focus solely on the Vault's required maintenance then...." Victor knew that SRB might very well be seen as overstepping its bounds by overriding another Division's authority, but he believed it was a necessary step. He wanted to consolidate any and all security concerns directly under his own division. If that meant a few stepped on toes and bruised egos, then he was more than willing to trade that for having full control over something that he believed to be far to vital to allow for mistakes or delays.

"Anything else Z9?"

"No sir. That's all for now."

"Good you may return to your duties then."

Z9 gave a quick nod and bowed out of the office. Victor, in the meantime considered his next move. He was unsure of just how much he wanted to involve The Institute in the affairs of The Commonwealth, especially at this vulnerable junction. There was, of course, the matter of The Enclave to still be resolved. The Institute had known about The Enclave for some time, ever since they'd made their presence known in D.C. region but it was a surprise to find remnants of their government active in The Commonwealth. He wasn't sure he could trust them yet, or even that he wanted to, but the fact that they appeared to be interested in enacting their own revenge against The Brotherhood was enough reason to at least attempt cooperation. Trading information and non-classified technology was about as far as he was willing to go for now however.

After all this was the same group which, not too long ago, had apparently attempted to purge the world of all mutants. Which, by their definition, undoubtedly included members of The Institute. Victor wasn't overly fond of the Yankee-Doodle-blaring aggressive patriotism either. He had no intention of pledging The Institute's allegiance to a defunct, and rightly so, American state. Their backwards facing vision to try and recreate what had-been was...frankly...adorably naive. Had they met under different circumstances, he imagined that they would not nearly be as cordial to one another. Especially if their government had attempted 'annexation' of CIT.

"But least they have as much reason to hate The Brotherhood as we do," Victor muttered aloud, "We can work from there."

Vengeance...that was a strong unifying emotion indeed...

---

Whistler was overall bothered by the sudden influx of people that came to Goodneighbor and became a hub for anyone and everyone to come. While he wasn't bothered by the chem-addicts and ex-murderers that roam the streets, it was another thing entirely if it was causing conflict after conflict regarding their conflicting moral views or whatever. Especially the new raiders, bandits and thugs who decided to make camp here. He's been hearing them going over about wanting to continue their raiding and their old habits, but that's what John Hancock didn't want.

And that's why he was here at the Mayor's Office today, to report what he had heard.

And John Hancock wasn't exactly too happy about that. "God those fucking argh!" The ghoul slammed his fists onto the desk before fixing his hat after his very short outburst. "Thanks for the report Whistler. I'll deal with those fuckers later." Hancock sat down on his chair and then began rifling through his drawers in attempt to find some form of drug to hit himself with to calm him down.

"Don't think that'll stop them Mayor." Whistler decided to say. The railroad agent recieved a curious look from the mayor and then urged him to continue. "They're not exactly the type to just get scared witless. Ain't working so far for them y'know? They know the rules, and they still don't think..."

Doctor Amari sauntered in - the affiliate of The Railroad now being a core member of Goodneighbor, as Hancock likes to call it. While she originally didn't like being called in by the mayor for decisions, she grew into the job well enough because such conflict would even result to danger for those who decided to use The Memory Den. While Irma could handle herself in a fight and the Neighborhood Watch there could really help, it would be immensely better if they could keep conflict to a minimum.

"Doc, what are you doing here?" Whistler asked as he stepped aside, surprised that she had made an appearance without being summoned by the mayor himself.

"Simple, because I have a suggestion for this." Amari replied before looking at Hancock. "Whistler isn't the only one to hear about this particular predicament, and many have stepped up with suggestions." She took out a map of Boston, courtesy of Whistler who had multiple accurate maps of the place from when he was in the Railroad. "Expand the territory."

There was silence after that. Hancock seemed to think about his options. That or he could change up his rules and kick out anyone who's trouble or not accept people because of their background. But that would restrict the people's freedom - and that went against everything he's built up for Goodneighbor. It was the reason he left Diamond City, and he was sure he wasn't going to do that here too. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Whistler. "Scout the places 'round Goodneighbor. See if we can get it under our city."

"Roger that, Mayor." Whistler then bowed his head before departing the City Hall.

"And what will you be doing Hancock?" Amari asked as she turned back to the ghoul.

Hancock stood up and then grabbed his shotgun along with his combat knife. He then pumped the shotgun and grinned at Amari who now knew the answer to her own question. "I'm off to teach some idiots a lesson." With that, he exited the City Hall and Fahrenheit - his bodyguard - followed close behind while still holding her signature Gatling Gun - The Ashmaker.

---

As she looked over the reports trickling in from her units on the surface, Isabel smiled to herself with pride. Her plan had worked, or at least it appeared to have from what she was seeing. All across the sectors she'd released her peacekeeping robots into All Clear signals were coming in. Finally the villains who'd preyed on the innocents for so long had been brought to heel under her watchful eye.

"Looks like we're winning this war on injustice, Sparky," she said turning to her eyebot companion. "The Commonwealth is safe and free once more."

As the hovering droid beeped and whirred in response Isabel couldn't help but feel an emptiness inside. Her mission was complete, at least for now. She had no illusion that the forces of darkness would return in time, rising up against the innocent and helpless as they strove to plunge the world once more into chaos, but for now all she had to do was to watch and wait diligently for the next threat to appear.

Glancing over at the polished chrome helmet of her armour, Isabel began to wonder if now would be the best time to present herself in person to the world above. It had been years since she'd last walked on the surface, instead relying on her metal minions to act in her stead, but perhps this period of peace and tranqulity offered the opportunity to once more become a part of the world above.

Turning back to her console, Isabel began to scan the radio frequencies for signs of civilisation, hoping to detect some signal which would let her know that other heroes and valiant individuals were also at work to help make the world a better place for all.

---

The Nahant Enclave - Day 1

---

The irradiated crows producing their harrowing caws signalled that morning had once again arrived in the Commonwealth, at least for the Lt. Colonel who resided in an almost completely restored Croup Manor, now renamed to "Edens Paradise".
With a grunt the man kicked the sheets off his bed and got ready for a new day, his agenda was full, as usual, but today a large piece of it was going to be taken up with a few of the other officers, they were making plans on establishing a new defensive line near the Nahant Wharf, tensions were on the rise once again with their friendly neighbourhood raiders, it seemed like it would only be a matter of days before it was all out war, if one could call it such a thing when dealing with degenerative scum like the ones at Libertalia.

The Lt.Colonel donned his officers uniform, which looked nothing like the old ones used back in the Enclaves prime- cloth undergarments and light shirt and briefs, covered over with a high-quality leather overcoat and polymered steel armour covered the body and knees, it made for a stylish yet protective outfit, and one the man was personally quite fond of.
The colouring itself was a dark green, much like the old one however.

After a brief bite to eat he was ready to begin the long, but ultimately profitable day ahead of him.

---

It was noon when Henry met with the other officers at the main gate, they had a lot to discuss.
There was 7 of them in total, all original members of the Enclave but equally at the time they were young and inexperienced when they left the Rock, guided by more experienced and older hands they eventually acquired the ranks of their fallen comrades as time progressed, all of them were middle aged now but brimming with experience and leadership potential - should he fall, one of them were more than suited to pick up his banner and take his place - something the original Enclave never really had.

The Lt.Colonel spoke first, greeting them all.
"Greetings everyone, I hope you've all had a good nights rest because we have a great deal to do today - as you are aware the raiders nearby are becoming increasingly aggressive and..." Henry was cut off mid sentence by his Captain, which at first made him extremely annoyed; however what the Captain had to say immediately made up for it.

"Sir, sorry to have to cut you short, but I felt that some news I've learned should take priority on today's agenda - a group of traders stopped by last night and started talking about on of their ilk discovering an object called "the beryllium agitator", other than the fancy name I didn't think much of it until I looked it up on our databases from the Rock - Sir, this item was used in the reactor that powered the Rock in the Capital wasteland."
A strong silence followed that statement until Henry broke it.

"A beryllium agitator? Here, in the Commonwealth?"
A confirming nod from the Captain was all he needed to start smiling, a rare occurrence.
"Well then, this changes a great deal - one of the main problems we've had carrying out numerous projects is creating the necessary power to test and use them, Captain I want you to assemble a team, head out into the Commonwealth and try and follow up on the lead you have, unless it's actually in the hands of a lone trader don't engage should you find out it's location, simply make note of it and return here so we can decide how to act."

The captain gave a salute and quickly made his way off the gate, rousing a few of the more experienced soldiers as he did.
Turning his head back to the rest of the Officers Henry dismissed them, dealing with the raider scum could wait for another day. Learning of this items existence here meant he needed to head back to the NOS, were the scientists were all working - there was a few projects he needed to discuss with Volk.

After a short walk, that was increased in length by ensuring he did a brief inspection of the settlement on his way there the Lt.Colonel arrived at the place they first called home in the Commonwealth, it wasn't much to look at but had decent scientific apparatus located inside it, as well as a capability to provide clean water to a great deal of people, food always came second in survival - if you sorted the water out, the rest could wait for at least a short while.
His path to Volk was littered with salutes from the science team and their helpers, he had them working around the clock on various projects that they had from the Rock and indeed based on a few technologies their new potential allies, the Institute had provided them.

Volk Kramer was the oldest of them that had arrived here, but as such he was invaluable for his scientific know how and his expertise in computing and engineering.
Henery had him working on something very special, and that was the first thing he brought up when he spoke.
"Volk, how's Project Eden coming along?" He knew the answer already, of course, which was preceded by a long drawn out sigh.

"Slow, but steady - as you well know, Henry" he said scathingly. Volk turned from his work and straightened his glasses giving a sloppy and half arsed salute when the pair faced each other.
"Now, other than bother my work, do you have anything important you wanted to discuss?"

For the first time in a few weeks, Henry actually did have something else to say barring bother the mans work.
"Yes actually, I thought you'd be interested in knowing that the Captain has come to learn of a Beryllium agitator located somewhere in the Commonwealth."
The reaction was instantaneous, Volk immediately straightened up to attention and spoke with a fervour in his voice.

"WHAT?! Really?! Do you realise, just how much that item would aid us? We could be well on our tracks to restoring the Enclave to it's former glory if we had that!" Volk gave a cautious turn to the hermetically sealed doors that contained Project Eden with a glint in his eyes.
"The Project would take months to finish; instead of years, do you realise what that would mean? The Enclave could rebuild properly again!"

A broad grin donned the Lt.Colonels face when he replied.
"I know, and Project Eden is instrumental should the day come when we can show our hand to the Brotherhood, and any other enemy we may have - including the Institute, friend or foe they may be in the future."

Volk turned and started muttering to himself - "GO! Leave me to my work, I'm going to start a new set of scenarios based on the power level we had back at the Rock for when we get the beryllium agitator, as well as get out the schematics to build the reactor in a safe place."
Henry knew that attempting to talk any further with the eccentric Volk Kramer would be useless, but the main assumed they would get their hands on it, if the Enclave knew of it's existence, then it was fair to assume that so did other groups in the commonwealth, including the Brotherhood.
For the time being, this would be their top priority, everything would be moved forward, the countless projects that were being worked on to return to their former glory, so they can begin to purify the Commonwealth from the scum that inhabited it - so much depended on this, and now the man would have to work out a replacement should they fail to acquire it, they needed to resolve their power situation, and soon.

Piper’s sleep was broken by noisy hubbub coming from the street. Counting day. She groaned, pushed her head deeper into her pillow, and wondered for the thousandth time why she decided to run for Mayor. It’s not like she wanted to sit in that noodle-stained chair anyways. Then she heard Nat crying something about her ‘impending victory’ to the crowd. She grimaced inwardly. Nat shouldn’t have been up this early acting like a little dancing monkey…

Piper threw off the blanket and got of bed. She wasn’t one to stay in bed when there was work to be done. Especially if that work involved keeping the knuckleheads in this city from running into each other. There was just enough light coming through the windows for her to stumble over to her pile of clothes, though she supposed she wouldn’t have to worry about the electric bill anymore once she became mayor.

Her wardrobe had certainly been forced to improve. While she tugged on her new leather pants, her guts roiled at the idea of forcing herself to smile at everyone again. But come on. She had done this for a reason right? She slipped into her shiny new boots, selected a bra from the pile, and grabbed a clean white undershirt. Then she turned to her jacket, which was hanging on her one nice coat hanger. Becky Fallon had spent most of her time outfitting the glorious soon-to-be Mayor Piper on cleaning her signature jacket. The frayed edges were repaired, the dirt and stains had been purged, and the collar was crisply standing to attention. The ratty old jacket damn nearly glowed. As Piper put it on, she felt like herself again. As ready as she would ever be to take the place of that dead prick and give the people of Diamond City a fair deal…

Piper thew on her new Diamond City green newsie hat and scarf, grabbed her piece from the dresser, and walked down and out of Publick Occurrences. She was immediately confronted with a crowd of residents filling the street. People who scoffed at her articles for years were now surrounding her house, shouting questions and praise, and cheering her name and newspaper. Fortunately, the new guard captain Ralph Peterson was there with some of his boys. They went around her, taking up bodyguard positions as Ralph commanded every time she left her house. Piper wanted to say something to Nat before she left, but the men were already steering her to stage. She managed to give her an encouraging smile and mouth ‘be good’ before the crowd obscured her.

“Good morning madame Mayor”, Ralph said without looking at her, scanning the crowd hawkishly instead. The grizzled former minuteman was more fit and capable than most of the young men in the guard, and had dedicated himself in the past months to making sure the transition of power went smoothly.

“Come on Ralph, we went over this. You can’t call me Mayor until Cooke runs back to his drug pushing”, she said with faux admonishment.

The rare beginnings of a smile showed on his face, but quickly reverted to a frown as a dark thought visibly crossed the man’s mind. “There was another broadcast this morning. From the People’s Liberation Radio,” his face curled in disgust. “That idiot Jones is targeting you and the city now with his bullshit. You should let me lead some men to shut him up.”

Piper frowned too, but shrugged. “I handled McDonough. I can handle another noisy politician.”, but she could see his frown deepen visibly at that. She held up a hand before he said anything else. “I’ll listen to the broadcast later when I move into the office. I’ll send the Great Chairman a message back if it’s too feisty”.

Ralph nodded and was visibly relieved. They were closing on the stage now, with the crowd at their backs. Cooke was already onstage, but looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Next to him were the vote counters, Pastor Clements and Abbot, who the city decided were the most honest and impartial people in the city. She climbed the stage and took her position on their left. Now all she had to do was stand all still and stately, while Pastor Clements helped the old painter count the rough slips of paper in the box. Piper stood as straight as she could and forced a confident smile to rest on her face, though she knew she didn’t have to do much to look better than Cooke, who was visibly slouching and failing to conceal his anger.

It felt like hours before the last slip was finally counted. Even though she knew what was going to happen, she was still nervous. What if McDonough the second over there surged in votes somehow? Suddenly, all the murmuring in the crowd hushed as Pastor Clement gestured them closer. Her stomach fluttered as she obliged. Then she felt Abbot grab her arm, thrust it into the air, and shout: “Piper Wright swung for the fences!”. The crowd erupted. She only felt bizarre. People would call her Mayor Wright now. The nosy journalist who everyone used to hate was now running the city. While she reached inside her jacket for her speech notes, she wondered for the thousand and one-th time why she decided to be the Mayor.

@CaptainBritton

With the reduction of bandits and raiders in the Commonwealth and with a more stable location that people knew about - more and more people and merchants started to slowly visit the Regiment at Fort Heath. It was likely a blessing, since the Fort was likely a day or two of raider attacks away from having the walls crumble back into saw dust.

As it was, the Regiment was now able to re-supply most of their ammo, food and water - while also getting people whom were willing to settle down nearby and exchange protection for a constant supply of crops. As it happened, one merchant also sold the Regiment a workable radio - that surprisingly reached most of the radio signals broad-casted in the Commonwealth.

Thus Colonel Church, would hear the radio broadcasts of Chairman Jones and his CPLA.

---

@Elgappa

Chairman Jones' idea of working together alongside the Brotherhood or namely, having a non-aggression treaty with them was a rather smart idea...if they had decided to propose such an idea, when the Brotherhood had first arrived in the Commonwealth. Thus, the men sent by Jones were given a rather typical Brotherhood welcome.

Namely they were sent fleeing back towards Vault 81 - through the hail of laser fire. Even when some of the CPLA' members managed to yell and scream out their proposals - that didn't limit the fire directed towards them. Heck the CPLA might pride itself on managing to pry Proctor Teagan out of his shack. Although having an angry man chase you with a gatling laser and wearing power armor might not have been the thing they had hoped to achieve.

"YOU FILTH COME BACK HERE AGAIN AND I WILL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!" yelled Teagan to the retreating members of the Commonwealth People Liberation Army. At least the Brotherhood hadn't desired to chase them down - yet it seemed the Brotherhood was more eager on keeping their xenophobic and hostile isolation - no matter the opportunity presented to them.

While such an incursion ended in failure, Chairman Jones would have gotten word through travelling merchants - the rare kind whom were brave enough to traverse the Commonwealth and barter with Vault 81. Namely, some other members of the Minuteman faction had survived under someone called Colonel Church.

---

@Leos Klien@Andronicus23

As both the Enclave and Institute prepared and sent their scouts to prod the land for information eventually - their effort would pay dividends. Namely there had been word, that the trader whom held the beryllium agitator within his grasp was said to be heading towards Quincy.

While Gunners had been known for being violent mercenaries and brutish thugs, even they had suffered during the Days of Chaos - where regular raiders and chem addicts were more than willing to try their luck on anything that moved. Including Gunner territory, as such Quincy had been more fortified and in a way, build-up into a semi-decent state.

As of the current moment, it was the unofficial fortress of the Gunners - a location where one could hire the Gunners for all sorts of tasks or get hired into the Gunners. Whatever the case was, it seemed the trader was heading towards Quincy. From there onward was anybodies guess. What might be more troubling for either the Enclave or Institute was the fact - their scouts would also report of Brotherhood activity. It seemed, that they weren't the only ones whom had heard of the beryllium agitator - thus they were in for a race indeed.

If the Brotherhood got their hands on it - then either faction might kiss any chance of trying to dislodge the Brotherhood away from the Commonwealth then.

---

@Polaris North

After Hancock' Golden Rule had been enforced, many of the raiders shut up and changed around. Those whom remained adamant, decided to take their luck and leave the safety of Goodneighbor - that for the most part, temporarily eliminated the infighting and problems with housing and feeding everybody.

While the more citizen-types were very approving of Hancock act, even if it was bloody and brutal - there likely wasn't nobody in the Commonwealth nowadays whom hadn't gotten their hands dirty - be it for understandable reasons or not. As it happened, Goodneighbor was surrounded by lots of buildings and debris that could be worked into something better.

The problem was, that many of the places were very unstable and looked ready to collapse - work needed to be done on them. Which in turn, also required for security while people worked. While Goodneighbor' walls were tough, they weren't much use if one was outside their protection. Thus Hancock had both an answer and problem upon his lap once more - he had people whom were willing to work on expanding Goodneighbor. Problem being - the only one with enough muscle to provide security were the local Triggermen. They themselves were asking for rather steep prices for their security - in short, they were trying to fleece people as usual.

---

@Genni

Isabel' transmitter eventually caught some signals. The first of which was the broadcasting signal of somebody called Chairman Jones and his CPLA. Whom was taking about revolution, freedom and arming the working people with rifles. While not openly hostile, they did possess the characteristic that labeled them weird.

There was another signal - that came from somewhere called Nuka-World. That was a mixture of a DJ whom sounded too much hyped on Jet and speaking about a situation of how the location they were at - was experiencing Day 34 of their Gang War between some folks called the Pack, the Operators and the Disciples. Whatever the case was, it seemed that Isabel targets had simply migrated somewhere else it seemed.

Then a third signal was one Diamond City Radio - spoken by a rather shy male, yet whom seemed to be more sane than the last two previous radios. "W-well. Mayoral elections are coming to an end...weren't they exciting. Can't be any sooner, couldn't it, eh? Less raiders, Brotherhood and Synths around to scare us anymore. Hehehe. Well, there are always those rogue robots-" he muttered, likely surprising the Mechanist. "-advisory is always to steer clear of those. B-but especially the Northern Commonwealth - yeah, whomever this Mechanist is - he must be one crazy psycho."

"I mean, yeah. As reminder, don't go...searching through random, abandoned junkyards. Or...well, you'll end up killed like our pal Joe was," spoke Miles, laughing rather awkwardly. "I mean, one moment - your scavenging for paint for old Abbot, gotta keep that wall looking nice. Then...suddenly you're jumped by some homicidal machines, tear you limb from limb and leave you rotting in the sun. Funny, heh? I mean is it a crime to befriend the lonely radioman? Well...I guess according to the Mechanist. Anybody living, be your raider or just a friendly, neighborhood, caring-"

"-yeah. Here is some music, and I do hope...whomever this sick fuck the Mechanist is. That they rot...and suffer all the pain, they had inflicted upon their numerous victims..." muttered Miles, a rather chilling statement from the normally nervous man - before music started flooding through Isabel' transmitter.

---

@Wampower

Whatever Piper was thinking now, there was no running away from her situation now. The people were pumped-up and eagerly cheering her on now - repeating and chanting the word 'speech, speech' like the Cultists of Atom. As if it was something they had gathered to listen to all their week.

Needless to say, it might as well be - as she had been one of the few people to take the Synth and Institute threat seriously. The other one being Nick Valentine, whom was mostly busy with people problems to investigate more into the Institute problem. While they weren't a threat anymore, thanks to the effort of the Brotherhood their influence was still felt even now. Namely, despite being defeated some remnants of them had still been spotted fleeing the Commonwealth.

While those remnants of the Brotherhood, whom had stayed after their giant zeppelin had crashed into war, had gotten very hostile to any outsiders. While not much of an issue, there had been reports of Brotherhood vertibirds and patrols hitting some locations along the Boston area. Mostly having been former Old World research, industrial or scientific facilities - although, there had been also reports of skirmishes between regular folk and Brotherhood members. Some of which had ended in bloodshed, thus Piper had not only the challenge of trying to balance her career as a reporter with her new task of ruling a city - she also had to deal with Institute and Brotherhood remnants. Not to mention other factions, that seemed to have popped out like glowing fungus after a rad-storm.

---

---

@Leos Klien

A lone wastelander approaches the fortifications at Nahant, wary of the hate laden eyes that were undoubtedly now fixed on her. Both from the barricades themselves, and most probably from hidden locations around the area as well. She didn't doubt that the militaristic Enclave had a overly-secured perimeter. While the wastelander might have appeared disheveled and perhaps even malnourished when given a cursory glance, she was far from the usual primitives. As an Institute infiltrator Synth, she was one of the few remaining Gen-3's still left in The Commonwealth and tasked with reporting back to the SRB on the region.

As she approached Nahant, the Synth gave a subtle signal to her observers. A simple gesture that had been agreed upon as a way to communicate between the two groups that would let The Enclave know that the individual in question was an asset of their erstwhile rivals turned friends.

Once she was allowed close, the Synth quickly gave the shorthand version of her intended message,

"I need to speak to the Lt. Colonel," She said, "The SRB has received some....disturbing intelligence reports from here in The Commonwealth. Director Harland sends his regards."

---

Hancock, Fahrenheit and a couple of his men wiped out the main leaders of the opposition. The raiders suddenly shut up and decided to play by Hancock's rules. That meant less things to worry about, but now onto the next problem. Hancock usually didn't like always leading the join; after all, he was the kind of guy who liked going out every once in a while to learn something new about the Commonwealth. But looks like he'll be here for a good long time before he can leave it along.

"Fucking hell..." He muttered to himself as he took another drag from his cigarette, leaning his shotgun against his desk as he waited for the report.

After a few hours, Whistler came back with his entire map riddled with red and blue marks, along with yellow lines. The young man spread the map onto the mayor's desk and began pointing at each mark, explaining in detail the conditions of the buildings, how to get there and if it would be good to go.

The mayor ruffled his hat as he grumbled something incoherent under his breath. "Looks like we need some manpower huh?" He said as he got off of his seat. "Time to ask the people if they want to eh?" He then turned to Fahrenheit. "You and Whistler go to the Triggermen. Looks if they can give us some security. Tell 'em to name their price."

Fahrenheit nodded and Whistler couldn't help but say, "With all due respect, mayor, the Triggermen?" The male didn't seem too happy with the choice of security. "Can't we just have the Neighborhood Watch? Or... Or arm some of our people. Surely they know how to shoot."

Hancock slammed his hand on the ground but had a cocky grin on his face. "Don't worry, we get along well." The mayor, after all, works with them from time to time in cases such as these.

He then went out to make a speech to ask the people what they think about the situation. They rallied towards him, especially the new, more law-abiding citizens as they wished to help better their new settlement. In the meantime, Fahrenheit and Whistler were headed for the leader of the local Triggermen. The leader was more than willing to help out - provided, of course, that they pay for it. The amount of money even made Whistler cast another glance on the amount. Though with no choice, Whistler decided that he would get back to the leader once he had a talk with the mayor.

"This price is ridiculous. It would take so much out of your stash Hancock." Amari pointed out.

Hancock rolled his eyes as he took out another box of Mentats before consuming a pill. "Ain't have much of a choice do we? They got what we need. Out of the walls of Goodneighbor, everythin's fair game. Super Mutants, Feral Ghouls and who knows what else." He then leaned forward on his desk. "We have workers, not fighters. We need protection in and out of our walls. Only mercenary we have here is MacCready."

The radio buzzed to life as Kent Connoly's regular broadcast of The Silver Shroud was on. "And now for the new adventures of the Silver Shrou-" A guard turned the radio off.

Whistler whistled. "Now if only there was a real Silver Shroud eh? They could just wipe the floor with anyone out there." He joked with a small grin on his face.

"That'd be the easy way out, hotshot." Hancock roared with laughter. He collapse onto the seat with crossed arms and then looked at the people inside the room with him. "So, ready to deal with the Triggermen?"

Amari shook her head. "No chance for negotiations? We could give them more space once we've expanded." She suggested. "Or hire some mercenaries from the outside?"

Hancock clicked his tongue. "D'ya really think that they'll be all fine and dandy with that? Dealing with them won't be too bad. 'Sides, if we expand the territory, least there's more chances traders'll come around."

"Well, well, look who's acting like a real mayor." Amari muttered and Hancock let out a laugh in reply.

"Let's get the workers outfitted first. Jerry, go gather them around. We'll start a few days from now." Hancock ordered one of the guards who nodded and then left. "We'll clear the surrounding area first yeah? Who's up to blow some shit up?"

"You know we're in bossman."

"Whatever you say Hancock."

---

... "Oh, moin Dieu! Breaking news! Today, a family of poor Wastelanders was cornered by the Power Armored Thugs of the Brotherhood of Steel! Yet, oh my how brave, a small patrol of the glorious Peoples Liberation Army found them, and intecepted the Brotherhood goons. Outnumbered and outgunned, they fought like cornered Lions, to allow the Family save escape! Said family has now a new save home, welcomed by the Chairman himself, who personally salueted the heroic soldiers, and pardoned them for their break of orders. Mhh, only i have yet to met them...anyway, Ladies and Gentleman, the Chairman!"

---

---

"..it seems,like i am not permitted to met said family! How rude! Be aware, rude man, i will talk to the Chairman about this!
Until then, some more music!

---

...hard to ask people anything, when they fire lasers at ya, chief.." The bandaged Soldier was once more pressing his hand into his side, where the laser had strived him, setting his cloths ablaze and leading to a small, yet rather nasty burns. The bandages had been rather lose, as the medic had little time to stitch him up, before the Chairman wanted to see him. Disgruntled Jones glared at the man, sitting at his desk, brooding over his signature cigar, as his finger strived over his black mustache, with strings of grey slowly fading into it. "Have they understood what you were saying, Comrade?" The Soldier cought out in anger, wincing as he once more held onto his bandage. "FOR CHRIST SAKES, CHIEF, THEY WERE FIRING A.." A kick in his knees send him flying onto the ground, as Lieutenant Combes had quickly ended his angry screaming. "You are talking to the Bloody chairman, Comrade! Dont you dare screaming at him!"

With a raising of his hand, Jones ordered the Officer back, before getting up, walking around the table, towards the soldier. "I..i am sorry, sir! We..we really wanted to deliver that message but.." Jones got down onto one knee, before placing his hand on the soldiers shoulder. "What messsage? There never has been a Message! You, Comrade, are a hero! Rescuing a family from the clutches of the vile hands of the Brotherhood, who would have shot the men and done horrible things to the child!" The soldier looked in disbelieve, as Jones simply gave him a pat. "You can leave now, Comrade-Corporal!" The suddently promoted Soldier, still seeming confused, quickly rose from the ground, rushing towards the door. After Jones heard it closing, he let out a sigh, before taking a long puff from the cigar. "See to it, that all members of this squad have double rations of booze, cigarettes and sugar for the rest of the week! And that they keep the new truth! Also, be so kind, comrade, to send for Commissar De Luca and for the Leader of the Youth-Battalion!"

The Chairman could see Combes swallow, as he called for his daughter. "Dont worry, Comrade, i will not send her out! She is far more useful in educating the youth into bright young guardians of the Revolution, then she would be on combat duty! I just need her to find a volunteer, to deliver a message to an old friend! As for the Commisar, tell he that i need two Demagogues for a mission to Diamond City and Goodneighbor! "

[A few hours later, in front of the Vault]

"I am so proud of you my boy! Your bravery knows no bounds, and your chairman salutes you!" Jones slowly turned around towards the child, before handing him the later, looking him straight into the eye. The blond boy, wearing the red scarf around his neck, kept his eyes straight, once more giving credit to the education in the Youth Battalion. "Now, you know what to do?" The boy quickly nodded. "Deliever the letter to the vile capitalist traitor Colonel Church! Do not stay to chat, just wait for a response!" Smiling with approval, the Chairman handed the boy the letter, before tapping his forhead with two fingers. "Dont get yourself killed out there! Remember, your Chairman trusts in your abilities! Dont make us regret picking you up from the outside, my boy! Now off you go!" Watching the boy running off, made Jones question his chances for a moment, yet once more, his priorities were elsewhere anyway.

@CaptainBritton

---

---

As the service lift ground to a halt Isabel pulled the safety door open and nodded to the two Robobrain minions who stood gaurd either side of the entrance to her top secret lair. Gazing out of the garage entrance of the ancient RobCo sales & service center Isabel took a moment to take in the sight of the ruined wasteland laid out in front of her. Little had changed since her self-imposed exile from the surface, apart from the sentry drones which hovered around the area, making sure no undesirables came too close to her sanctum.

Quickly checking the readings on her homemade radio rig the Mechanist turned towards south-east, in the direction of Scollay Square. From what she'd picked up in her search of the airwaves the news that another hero for truth and justice wasd at work in that neighbourhood had lifted her heart. Perhaps there were still those in the world who lived to support the American Dream, who could aid her in her unending war against The Forces of Chaos.

Beside her Sparky buzzed and clicked, informing his mistress that signals were being picked up from nedarby hostile lifeforms. "Don't worry, my little companion," Isabel spoke up, her voice filled with righteousness, "None shall divert the Path of Justice."

With her heart bouyed by the sentiment Isabel stepped forwards into the ruins, making her way towards Goodneighbour with her Robobrain servants grinding in her wake.

---

@Andronicus23

For the current part, while the message was delivered - the Enclave seemed to be dealing with their own things. Thus, the advantage for recovering the beryllium agitator was in the hands of the Institute for the moment.

---

@Polaris North

While the cost for clearing and security might been sky-high - the Triggermen were willing to cut a good enough deal with Mayor Hancock. Namely in the regard, that Goodneighbor would be getting any 'items' that the people recovered from the surrounding ruins. It was in essence, an empty promise in all honesty - since nobody expected to find much beyond dirt, concrete and rubble.

Although once the bare bones work of clearing the area started getting underhand - the investment started paying off. Namely, Mayor Hancock soon had tales, of stuff popping out of the ruins like glowing fungus. Most of it was the simple Old-War junk that was too busted to be of use, yet they were digging them out by the piles. It gave many people time to pop out the useful junk from the regular junk. The wastelander wasn't anything if creative and innovative.

Plus, once the hidden piles of chems, that some old skeletons had hidden inside cupboards or suitcases started appearing - Hancock would soon start to get a steady supply in. It was natural, many of the workers weren't that hooked on chems like Hancock' group was. But they respected him enough and wide his aid in helping to clear the area - he earned that respect of the people, that they were able and willing to smuggle of chems to him - instead of the other way around.

As it was, Hancock was getting his investment back rather nicely, and the interest would likely keep on climbing - since they had barely scratched the surface of the area.

---

@Elgappa

The choice of sending a kid out with a message into the rather chaotic wasteland known as the Commonwealth might have been a stupid one in essence. Although, by this point - the heavy-fighting during the Days of Chaos had produced a rather interesting situation.

Namely it left a Commonwealth that was void of most heavy gangers, raiders or the occasional mad junkie. Nobody planned on staying in the area that was nowadays called 'No-Mans Land'. Namely, if one was quick enough, hid well and didn't stick too long in any particular location - they could move through the wasteland without much issue.

Thus, the young kid wouldn't get into much trouble, he likely wouldn't be trained for and easily would manage to reach the encampment of Church' Regiment.

A howl could be heard coming from the west of the Commonwealth. A herd of brahmin running almost in terror behind them is a pack of mongrels ,the dogs herding the brahmin into the Commonwealth. Behind the dogs approaches a man riding on the back of a Yao guai, two super mutants walking on either side of them. Behind them is a female mercenary looking person and a ghoul in a doctors get up.

The man in the front stops and yells back, "Doctor Stein! Is this the place? The Wealth's Commons?" The ghoul sighed and shook his head, "This is the commonwealth Edwards. This place was as place of science, the smartest people were here before the bombs fell..." The man he called Edwards speaks up again, "Is this a suitable place for us, we are trying to find a place for us to settle for a home for the Claw..."

Stein replies rather annoyed, "Yes, this place will have everything we will ever need. Nuka World, might be a place of interest they had a zoo if my memory tells me correctly..."

The super mutant on the left of the leader speaks, "We dont need zoo, we need big guns, big walls. Claw needs safe..." Stein, "Dont speak to me you brute..." The female of this group speaks, "Speak that way to him again and I will rip your tongue out Doctor..." She wasnt taking kindly to the ghoul talking down to the super mutant.

Edwards speaks again, "Enough! If we are in this commonwealth where we are suppose and entered the where Stein said we would we shouldnt be far from Forest Grove Marsh. We will take it and it will be our place of our own. The claw can set up there and we can scout this place. This Nuka world might be interesting enough to investigate but we need information. We need to hunt and get food for our beasts and place for the rest of the Claw can hang their heads and rest up. Drak, make sure the ammo is evenly given out. Beth, make sure the beasts are staying close, those brahmin are getting far the dogs should be able to move them to where we need them. Grog gather up what you can from everyone if you have to slaughter a few brahmin to feed the group. The beasts eat first. Stein you are with me."

Carver Edwards the leader of this nomadic raider like group known as the Claw. The group with a few super mutants, ghouls, and humans alike all living with Yao guai, deathclaws, wild dogs and other animals. This is their way of life and They are new to the commonwealth looking to make this place their home. Their leaders have arrived and are looking to set their path to the Forest Grove Marsh a place perfect for this group and their variety of animals. If this place is to be their home they have a lot of work to do with in the wastlands of the commonwealth.

The group leaders even after their little discussion they follow Carver's orders. As they move towards where they believe is the Forest Grove Marsh. Even the ghoul who seemed to believe he is better than the rest follows the man on the Yao Guai. Behind them a small wave of members of the claw walk behind them herding their creatures with them. As the follow their leaders to where they were going.

---

---

@NecroKnight

Z9-23

A disguised Z9 sat amongst the ruins of Sanctuary Hills, having only arrived in The Commonwealth hours before. She'd been ordered by The Directorate to take a small team and hunt down the location of the Beryllium Agitator. The Enclave had not yet responded to their inquires, and time was of the essence. They could wait no longer.

Coursers were not meant to blend in, but Z9 only needed to pass for a wastelander at a glance. The rest of her team consisted of three specialized Gen-3 SRB operatives, and each were armed and armored in slightly better weaponry than your average wastelander, but none of it was Institute based. In keeping with the lockdown protocol, no trace of The Institute's involvement could be known.

The individual they were waiting for, colloquially known as "Trashcan Carla" was a merchant who had previously been a cooperative informant for the SRB, and she'd often passed intelligence reports and sightings of escaped synths back to them. As a well connected merchant in the north-west Commonwealth, they were hoping she would be able to provide some insight on the matter of the agitator.

As she and her pack brahmin approached, Z9 stood up and walked over to greet her,

"Carla," She began, "I'm afraid we require your assistance once again. Rest assured, you will be well compensated as always. Nothing has changed in that regard. We've heard some intriguing reports of a valuable piece of technology having been recovered by Commonwealth scavengers. It may be making the Caravan rounds as well. Its known as a Beryllium Agitator. Have you heard of it?"

Piper’s mind raced as the people began to go from cheering to chanting ‘speech!, speech!, speech!’. Oddly, it reminded her of the days she spent trapped with the Children of Atom, peering down that dark sewage pipe as they chanted and prepared to sacrifice her to their crazy God. While it was easy to focus on her fear and uncertainty regarding the metaphorical sewage pit she was facing now, she had to remember there was a resolved water crisis at the end of it. By throwing herself into dangerous situations for a little bit of truth, she could make things in this Wasteland just a bit better. And keep away lying pricks like McDonough.

She cleared her throat. “People of Diamond City,” she began uncertainty. The chanting stopped suddenly and she settled on her angle. “We’ve been lied to. McDonough tried to pulled the wool over our eyes for years, telling us he was one of us, telling us that we were safe from the Institute when we never truly were.” She paused for half a moment to let that settle in. “McDonough lied, because he knew we could do anything if we knew the truth. He knew the people of Diamond City were strong enough for anything we face down fairly! That we can do anything we set our minds to if the path is clear!” It was hard to tell how it was going, but it seemed to be going well.

Piper continued deliberately and confidently “I will always keep the path clear for you. I will always work hard to give you all a fair deal, so everyone has a chance to make the big leagues. Nobody has to starve or go thirsty. Nobody has to go without a steady job. No small business will go without a fair chance. I will always make sure our children are safe and educated. I will always make sure you and anybody else who walks through those gates is free to live how they want. But most importantly, I will always tell you the truth. It’s what you all deserve. Because with the truth in hand, we can overcome any obstacle.”, she slowed her voice, preparing to drive it home. “You, the people, are what keep the Wall standing. Thank you, that’s um, that’s all”, and with that, she ended her speech. Whether the cheering that came after that was just polite or really as enthusiastic as it sounded, she couldn’t tell.



Piper yawned and lowered her head into her stinky new desk in the mayor’s office. The sun was setting and she was exhausted. It had been a day full of symbolic activities and mutual brown nosing. First there was the glorious waste of time, also known as a victory march around the city surrounded by her supposedly adoring supporters. Then there was painting a section of the Wall with Abbot, which was probably the most fun she’d had that day. Ralph had led the guard himself to go get the right paint the day before. Fortunately, they were able to retrieve the paint and Joe’s corpse for a quiet service without any interference from the robots. Next, there was prayer to all the gods in the All Faiths Chapel for the success of her rule and safety of Diamond City. Pastor Clement had nearly caught her mumbling a mocking prayer to Atom. Then a visit to her supporters in the Dugout Inn, where she was finally able to actually drink and eat with the few people she hoped were still her friends. Then a visit to her smiling haters at the Colonial Taphouse. And finally, private petitioning in her new office.

It started off well, with her and Ralph carefully managing who got in. She had a good time with Nick, assuring him his detective work wouldn’t go unappreciated. He thanked her and assured her that she would have his support. It was nice to know Nick was still a friend after everything she had done as a reporter and was about to do as Mayor. But there was other thing she needed from him.

“Well if you’re looking to help out Diamond City in a major way, I might just have a job for you”, she said almost casually.

Valentine looked up from the cigarette he was lighting, giving her a curious look. “Well I suppose I am looking to help out Diamond City. Shoot.”

“People are getting killed out in the Wasteland by those robots. Joe certainly wasn’t first. I need you to find out more about this Mechanist. Where his robots are coming from, where he’s set up shop, why he’s doing this, and how to stop him if you can”.

Nick Valentine shifted uncomfortably in the broken chair McDonough shot through a couple months ago. “Don’t you think the Brotherhood is a bigger problem right now?”

Piper had already thought about this. The Brotherhood was probably a bigger problem than some strange robots, but they weren’t exactly subtle and she already knew their routine: lift up out of Boston Airport, go scavenge some gizmos, and shakedown any wastelander they came across. And besides, she couldn’t do much about a legion of power armor wearing soldiers. A geeky maniac could be stopped.

“I hired Hawthorne to investigate what the Brotherhood was up to.”, And she had. Hawthone was someone who get things done and he’d been starving for a job. He had come in just before Nick. “The Brotherhood isn’t exactly subtle Whoever, this Mechanist is, he’s a mystery. You’re the only one who’s good at mysteries around here that isn’t stuck in a noodle stained chair.” She flipped a lock of hair out of her face and leaned back into her chair, looking at him expectantly.

Nick chuckled. “I am, aren’t I? Alright I’ll take the job. Don’t expect a miracle though. And I’m guessing you don’t want me to…,” he fingered his pipe revolver.

“No, not unless you have to. I have a feeling there’s more to this story than some single psycho. You could start at the scene of Joe’s murder”.

He nodded and stood up. “I’ll do that. See you around, Piper.”

“See you Nick”, she replied.

After him came primarily self important Upper Stands residents. It passed in an exhausting blur of ruffled feathers and half empty promises. Now here she was, using her new green cap as a face pillow and waiting for Ralph to come in with another stuffy nobody from a corner in the Upper Stands.

Instead all he said was “closing time, Piper.”

---

Hancock was pretty much impressed with what was happening. After taking the workers out, with the assurance that the Triggermen would protect them, they started going to work. Hancock even went to help them with his own band of guards - though a lot of them stayed within Goodneighbor to make sure that nothing happens while the Mayor was out. Fahrenheit and Whistler aided the Triggermen with providing security - with the Whistler being up in the buildings with his sniper rifle and spotting anything that was amiss. There were some ghouls, yeah, but those were easily disposed off by Pipe weapons.

Hancock was pretty much surprised when supplies started coming in for the people of Goodneighbor. Junk that was usually just brushed off was being taken in by the dozens, and the people of Goodneighbor were actually impressed with what was happening. The Mayor, himself, found some old junk that he managed to pocket - and some ammo as well, leftover from before the war. Or maybe some idiot Raiders who forgot it? Who knows?

But then the treasures started popping up. Chems were being found left and right, and the good people of his town gave it to him and his team. Some went over to the Triggermen who had wanted it. The civvies didn't seem to be fond of chems, but they didn't seem too angry that their Mayor was a chem-addict.

"Everythin's going well, ain't it, Amari?" Hancock asked he took another shot of Jet in front of the doctor. The Mayor was taking a break for a while so he was just outside the wall of Goodneighbor and the good doctor was just visiting.

Amari looked at the chems the Mayor was holding and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. You're getting all the chems, of course it's going well." Hancock simply laughed at this. She then looked towards the workers. "At least they're motivated."

Hancock nodded. "Nothing like protection and treasure to get them workin'." He grinned at Amari. "We've only just breached the surface. Who knows what else we can find?"

"Ghouls?"

He stuck his tongue out. "Chems, Amari! Chems and treasure in forms of junk!" He said with a loud chuckle.

The two talked about where they would get the supplies to actually build the wall once they were done cleaning up the territory. While they had some supplies already, they still needed more. Amari suggested that they send someone to Bunker Hill to speak to some of the merchants there. Hancock still wasn't sure about that but decided to put up a poster. If anyone was interested in going out to the Commonwealth only armed with whatever they had, then they should step up to Hancock.

---

Isabel scowled down at the raider's corpse lying at her feet in a consternated manner. According to her status reports the number of ne'erdowells on the surface should've declined, but so far every person she'd met had been identified as hostile by her robobrain companions. She was beginning to wonder if she'd made a terrible mistake leaving her lair, that somehow the reports had been mistaken.

Rolling the body over with her foot she examined it more closely. The person certainly seemed to be a threat, their roughly hemmed leather clothing and pipe rifle clearly a sign of someone with far less culture and civility than Isabel would've expected from a population on the rise out of darkness. At the same time though the person didn't have any of the facial scarring, blood stained tattoos or clear signs of tribalism which she remembered from the horrors of her childhood. That at least was a good sign.

So the people were making strides in the right direction at least, but they obviously needed role models and paragons of Justice, Hope and Good Manners to help set them on the Path to Righteousness. Luckily for them The Mechanist was on her way.

---