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ENCLAVE VAULT




"Every time. Every goddamn time."

"What's that, sir?"

We now take you to the bowels of the Earth, a long way down from the surface which Fort Knox sits upon, where two Enclave soldiers stand, one a normal Tesla Soldier, and the other an especially-advanced looking one with highlights of a lighter blue on his armor. The Fallout Sector member had...kind of an accent, like maybe he came out of San Francisco with its Asian population, but he went by the name of Greg MacRider, and he was...a technological genius. Even still, this one had him puzzled...and maybe a little concerned.

"Every time we boot up the central brain of the Vault for active duty, it basically starts shouting at us with this speech. It looks like just a start-up message, like some cheap prank, but I've combed through millions of lines of programming and attempted to patch it out, and it will just not go. So, I'm thinking the computer is psychotic."

"How bad? Like...should we be worried?"

"No, we have control. It can't do what it wants. But it...doesn't like it, and it doesn't like it a whole lot."

"Okay, next question: What're we gonna do about it? 'Cause I know that Number One isn't gonna like it."

"Well, apart from therapy, I don't know if we CAN do anything about it. I'll let Jack know about this, and he can pass it on up the line."

It was about then that a soldier monitering frequencies and transmissions found something new. He began recording, and then when it hit a certain point, he announced to the other two nearby "I found something else that he's not gonna like. Sending the feed directly to his chambers now.". It needed to be immediately addressed, as their commander's standing orders that all new developments should be relayed to him as soon as possible, so...off went the televised signal from Canada straight to the man himself.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



The room was dark, save for the many flickering images upon the screens. Some were television screens, others holographic displays. The entire room appeared to be screens and technical equipment. This was the control chamber of Number One. It was a cold and forboding sort of room, where a hundred things were being displayed at once, and he caught them all from his chair in the middle. The chair was a large metallic unit with various buttons and electronic ports for his suit to connect to. He sat in it often, taking sessions of hours or even days, broken up only be one's own personal needs. Yes, he was a living being, which is why there was a hatchway elevator to his quarters beneath this room.

Number One sat in the center of all this, clad in a large powersuit of black and highlights of red, the eyes of the suit themselves red. He was the tallest one of all, even taller than Bob Malcontente', and broader of shoulder too. He looked more solid than Scott's heavily-armored suit, which was extra-armored so that people and explosions couldn't interrupt his work. And yet, he held that well-roundedness that Jack enjoyed in his suit. Powersuits were incredible machines. A little tweek here and there, and they could do almost anything. Still, this one was sitting passively, for now. That is...until the television signal from Canada popped in on the main viewer. He heard the main part from Canada, and then rewatched the full recording for good measure. And that was when Jack popped in through the heavily-armored door that was the entrance to this room.

"Ah, good. You have seen it. I was warned by Greg. Looks like someone wants to make a move against us."

"The move into the light was always going to bring exposure. It was only a matter of time."

"Didn't expect a television signal. Most televisions out there are scrap. Still, what do you wanna do about them?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

The head of the taller armor turned to look at Jack now.

"Nothing, because - as of now - nothing has OCCURRED. These are words. They are meant to provoke a reaction. Let the fools of Canada send their mercenaries to Enclave-friendly territory. SEE what they get. And if they attack...they will die."

Jack paused to think about this, but then in doing so, he pointed to the speakers in the room, the ones lining the walls near the ceiling.

"Do you have to keep that playing?"

The music suddenly stopped, leaving the chamber in relative silence.

"No."

"That's better. Now then, basically you're saying we don't have to do anything because they're just gonna send people off to get stonewalled and shot at."

"Precisely."

"Alright, then we'll move on. We've been having the folks at Louisville talk to the Indiana Homes. There isn't much friction between them, so it's gotten a bit smoother. Indy still doesn't like us, of course. He's this explorer/historian type. Lives in a museum and curates it.

"I have been giving that some thought. There are some articles in our possession, things which have no intrinsic value to our effort, but were potential bartering tools. He lives in a museum. We will offer him things that BELONG in a museum, and an historical account of what I have done to PURGE the old Enclave. He will learn that the old government is dead, and that New American States shall be born."

"Oh, you've been working on your pitch for when the Republic gets wind of us."

"They are far and away, and hardly a concern...but yes. The tales that I've heard of the handful of soldiers at the Hoover Dam has made it easier for me. When the NCR finally makes their push East, we will be ready for them, because they will be forced to concede that the Enclave does not have to be their enemy, and will not simply open fire."

"That will still take a number of years, so we'd better get onto matters on this end."

"Indeed."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Up on the surface, certain articles in Enclave footlockers were being loaded into the back of a waiting Vertibird, while others were heading out of armored hatches in the ground that opened up to allow them to the surface. One was obviously going North, to Indiana Homes, while the other two...were loaded up with some kind of heavy capturing gear involving high-test cord-lines, heavy nets, grappling devices, stun units, and also gas. They were bound for other locations, Daniel Boone National Park and the Mammoth Cave. They were on for the hunt. Suddenly, from a spot from the surface, the man in the black-and-orange armor looked up at the one turning for the cave area shouted "Wait for me!", and activated a jetpack to reach them. Bob was going hunting, having basically trounced all the recruits and left them all clean-up detail. Once he came on board the Vertibird...

"So, what's on the list for today?"

"Deathclaws, sir."

"Oh boy! Jack will be so pleased!"

"Will he really, sir?"

"Not a bit. Ever since Texas, whoa boy... Now, let's get a move on! Those labs ain't gonna fill themselves!"

We have fun here, at Enclave HQ.
@Darkmoon Angel I was gettin' worried.
@Jeddaven Big bounty.
<Snipped quote by FalloutJack>
the opinions of a bitch dont matter


I agree. His opinion doesn't matter. :P
Fuck the Enclave lol


Number One didn't like that.
Gotham Harbor


There was a brief moment of anxiety on the part of Raimi as this guy came in and made a dynamic thump on the paved ground. What the hell was he doing?! The bad guy didn't have to know anyone was there! They could've both been sneaky, but the Supes wanted to be a target, it seemed. Yeah, she picked up what he wanted to do, but she felt that a little more stealth could've done them both a good turn. Raimi was in position as he slammed the door off of its hinges, and was bathed in lightning bolts. She winced, but he didn't seem overly-harmed as he stepped in. Well, that's Supers, for you. Walking granite walls, they were.

Jon would see the man, his machinery, and all. Right now, he was seeing alot more than the time traveler outside could glean. This room had the full setup, alright. Various parts of the room - walls and ceiling - had weather emission gear, the immediate source of the volts that ran through him. Weather Wizard had installed it as sort of a point defense grid against unwanted intruders, which is to say all intruders. Obviously, the bolts of electricity weren't enough for him at the start, but they ramped up in intensity briefly before being cut off.

He could see him in the middle of the room, the Weather Wizard.

Standing by a large machine that could only be a high-powered weather generator was a man in a padded green suit with a mask of a lightning flair, green and yellow. His actual suit was padded and insulated against possibly redirecting weather against him, a 'W' in a lightning bolt on his chest, and he wore a sleek black cloak that was meant to be further resistant to attacks, especially of the heat and energetic quality. It was designed to help against backfires and such-like. Might give him just a couple seconds under the old heat vision scrutiny. In his hand was a weather-caster wand, the compact device that carried not just its own power, but could remotely control all weather generation devices on a whim...and it had a tether to the man's wrist. Looks like he'd learned from past mistakes against telekinetics and people slapping the device from his hands.

"You can just stay right there, where I can see you. You and your friend. Oh yes, I saw the camera feed. There's no point trying to fool me. The defense grid would keep you from just infiltrating, anyway."

There was an exasperated sigh, and a quick shuffle as...Jon's super hearing would pick up the sound that Raimi's portal made...before she nonchalantly walked in. There was something different about her, something that the Weather Wizard didn't pick up on immediately: Her suit wasn't damaged. The left claw looked perfectly fine.

"I didn't expect someone with time-acceleration abilities to show up, but then I'd only seen that happen once with the Clock King."

"Oh crap. You know the Clock King?"

"Only by reputation. I haven't gone into this business without a little study. For instance, I know that this man here loves a nice sunny day, but if you hit 'im with ionizing particles of a wavelength that occur in the red spectrum of light, he balks at it."

Dammit, too many people learn about the things that actually harm a Superman. Granted, the Wiz here obviously took the time to do his homework, but it's because he was a superhero in the light that so many people recognize him and what he can do.

"I don't suppose the fact that your cornered here will make you give up, will it?"

"Hardly. This machine is set to bring about a powerful storm in an instant, one that will wipe out this harbor and anybody that decides to interfere."

Now, if Jon's been using his x-ray vision right now to try and figure out a weakness in the room's defenses, he would - of course - see that the point defense emitters were all working in a series. He'd also see a version of the time traveler beside him climbing up a wall outside to make it to one of those little high windows that warehouses tend to have towards the ceiling. This one had a damaged claw, indicating that it was the he'd been talking to, while the one that was IN the room was from some point before assaulting the weather machine, before they had met. Once the one outside had made it to the window, she could see the Weather Wizard from behind and make eye contact with the two inside. As an indicator of what was about to happen, she held up a few flashbangs and a smoke bomb.
uhhhhhhh someone better check the territorial claims of each sheet.


@Yam I Am Hey, you know how Stuff would use the zeroeth character post to hold a list of characters in his RPs? Why not do that for the claimed territories?
@Kale19

"ACHOO!!"

*Clinkity-clink-clink!*
@Kale19 I know exactly why they're bloody. You didn't want to waste water, cleaning them off.
FORT KNOX




For years, the area of Fort Knox was a long-abandoned, mine-laden, robot patrolled, irradiated no man's land which challenged wanderers to see if they could score any of the blessed gold that might've been left behind, in view of the war causing a lockdown of all facilities. Now...things had changed. There was a stone-and-prefab-outpost wall around the perimeter of the base, allowing for soldiers to look out into the world with relative ease...and shoot at it. There was a main entrance area with a metal swing-gate that was currently letting in a hovercraft of some kind before closing its doors. Two powersuited figures with Super Sledges stood out there, seemingly at all times. There was an oddity about them, apart from them always standing rock-still, and it was this: Although the two suits were different in appearance, they were not the X-01 or X-02 powered armor suits. Even while one of them clearly had the Black Devil helmet on and the other had the more classic model helmet, they were updates, courtesy of the Vault below, X-03 Powersuits.

Moving on inside, you could see a wide range of troop and vehicle activity, lots of powersuits in motion along with the latest group of people taken in for inspection. This was an army base, after all. All the landmines were moved outside, all the intact buildings were made livable and given lead shielding against the radiation, and the ruined buildings were either scrap materials or...just left there. The gold vault faciility was the central building that figured into here, and the movie Goldfinger did it no justice. This was a heavily-fortified building, and ALL the auto-turrets worked again. Any of the robots up here that were slavageable were also claimed, refitted, and told to patrol outside the perimeter wall, avoiding the mines. Now, we bring your focus over to two men, and this is actually kind of important. Their suits aren't just in good condition, but they are marked in certain highlights to denote that they are somewhat important. The bulked-up on with the Black Devil helmet has yellow highlights, the other in the classic helmet has them in green. Everyone knows that these men are the bosses. They are from the Fallout Sector.

"Okay, what's on the itinerary today?"

"For me? Well, I've gotta do a wee check-up on the MGB, an' tell it keep up wit' the clean-up operations."

"Again, with that? That seems like such a waste for a machine of that caliber."

"Aye, well, the plant won't build us any construction equipment, no matter how we try an' coax her, so it's this or get yer raw recruits to start diggin' the irradiated soil themselves."

"I have considered it for punishment detail, but Number One advises against it. I'm about to head over to a group now with Bob to do some proper suit training."

"With Bob?! Jack, are ya sure they're ready for that kind of thing? Bob's a flippin' nutter, an' you know that."

"Yeah, he IS a nut, but he's our nut, so no harm done. See ya later."

The two men went their separate ways. The heavy-armored black-and-yellow suit was one that had a bunch of small utility arms hanging off of it, built up and custom-made by its occupant, Engineer Scott, Scotty McLaylen. As the Enclave's leading mechanical expert, he helped design and build a great many things. The troop-carrying hovercraft, the updated or custom-fitted powersuits, the MGB... You're probably wondering what the MGB is, right about now. Well, follow us as he heads on over to a stone building that looks like it's barely standing up in roughly a boxy shape, some of the pieces of it looking like they came from another building entirely. He came to the door, and opened it.

"MGB, activate."

CHOOM!!

He flinched as the inside was now all just bright light.

"Turn that blasted thing off, an' get up!"

And so, it did.



The walls and ceiling of the building shifted to the side as Scott stepped back, as this large robotic figure stood before him. It was machine that stood on reverse-jointed legs, starring at him with a cold and calculating eye. It had a smooth and sealed chassis, like some kind of urban pacification robot, but the single eye and clawed arms seemed more like some kind of alien war machine. In truth, though, the MGB was an automated heavy-armor military device...or a Metal Gear, codenamed 'The Box'. In brief, this machine was designed to move around the battlefield, and then under certain conditions be able to bury itself by hauling intact rocks or rubble on top of itself to masquerade as part of the scenery. Most commonly, the adhesive/suction tendrils would pull in parts of a building to give it a roughly boxy cover, hence the name. Scott had built this thing using a minor-intellect super computer, the Vault's backup reactor, ALL of the Enclave's forcefield equipment, and parts forged by their factory levels. This machine built the stone walls, and it has lately been tasked to try to remove the most heavily-irradiated materials from the area. The MGB stood at the ready now.

"Right. Give yerself a perimeter sweep, and then resume Task-1A, the removal of harmful elements from the base vicinity."

The machine turned to go do its task. Meanwhile, Jack in the black-and-green was meeting up with another group leader, who had orange highlights, marking him as the Enclave's top Pyro Soldier, the one they called Bob. He...was a tall one, taller than Jack. Seemed to have heating elements on his suit, as well as the claymore on his back. They were now facing a group of recruits in their powerarmors - older models, used for training only - on their first day of proper powersuit introduction. Recruits to the Enclave were brought into this area, and they were almost never allowed below ground, where the Vault is. They had to live on the surface, using their lead-shielded areas and training suits in order to make it through the day. The challenge was to be able to perform all tasks adequately without even instruction. Anybody who screwed up, damaged the powersuit, etc. Ho boy... They had a Dornan Riot Act written up, ready and waiting for such an occasion.

"Alright, soldiers. Welcome to powersuit orientation. Follow all of my commands, and you'll not only operate that machine you've been wearing efficiently, but become its master and be issued a proper X-03 refit model for your daily tasks. Don't listen, and it will hurt more, because Bob will probably hit you."

"There's no 'probably' about that."

"As you've noted, while the powersuit does allow you to perform tasks better, it doesn't do all the work for you. Your effort is still required to trigger the sensors that make it operate in conjunction with your body's actions. Sometimes, this makes reaction time a little slow, but with practice, you can sync up your actions with the movements of the suit perfectly."

He dove into a combat somersault and flipped to his feet with ease.

"I'm wearing a custom model, but any suit can perform that one, no sweat. Now, you will notice that all powersuits have a double-layer in defense, which has allowed for the repair of certain sections of the suit without having to replace the whole unit. This does not, by ANY means, make you invincible. You may be a walking slab of metal on the outside, but you still have to withstand the stresses of any attack on the inside. We'll have ourselves a demonstration, right now. You, in the front, step forward and prepare to fight."

He pointed to a recruit, one Allen Parks, who was a man that tended to...fall into alot of dangerous and unusual circumstances out in the wastes, while somehow surviving them despite all the panicking and screaming. In fact, some might even say he was...kind of familiar. He stepped forward, and...immediately focused on the giant MGB that was stepping nearby!

"Oh fuck... Oh FUCK... I'M A BRAVE BOOOY!!!"

Dink! Bob went over and smacked him in the helmet.

"Whaaat?"

"Not that thing. Over there."

He pointed over to a single standing powersuit with a Super Sledge on its back. Allen looked this over, attached the powerfist he'd been issued, went over, and smacked into the thing! The powersuit lurched back, seemingly glared at him, pulled out the sledge unit, and WHAM! Thrown back towards the group by the force of its blow as Jack turned to the rest of them.

"That is not a man in a suit. That is a Replicant, a powersuit filled with robotics to make it look like an actual soldier. They're more solid, they don't feel pain, and they do not fear. They make excellent shields and they can hit pretty hard, but...they lack the soldier's edge."

Allen raised a hand from where he lay.

"Is that what's out by the front gates?"

"Yes, it is. They're also decent eyes and ears."

Now, he was about to continue, but there was a sudden call over the radio that Jack was needed at the foremost guard station, which was fairly close by. Turning to the rest, he said "Well, I'm being called away, so for now, I leave you in Bob's capable hands. I wish you all good luck." before turning and heading off. Allen and the other recruits looked over at Bob now, uncertain as to how things were to progress. For a moment, there was nothing, but then...

"Hit me."

"What?"

"HIT ME!!!"

Aaand as that went on, we'll move over to the guard station, where a few soldiers were waiting. It's just a standard refurbished building that was...currently being powerwashed. Jack asked them what was up, and they told 'im.

"Yeah, I think we have a problem, sir. We were inspecting some guys who wandered too close to the base, looked like caravaners, but we think maybe smugglers. I mean, generally don't care unless they're smuggling something to harm us, and it seems alright, but one guy...ho boy. He uhhh...got violently ill, all of a sudden. We're thinking maybe disease."

"How sudden, and how violent?"

"He turned pale green on the spot, and vomited all over the place in a panic."

"The hell? What'd you DO?"

"Nothing! The interrogation was over! We didn't even harm them! I just said to take them for processing, and the guy let loose!"

"How're his friends?"

"Normal, confused."

"No disease, then?"

"Not that we could SEE, but we wanted to check with you first."

"Uh-huh... Wait a minute. You said 'processing'?"

"Yeah, I said 'Take them for processing', as in information processing."

"Oh, good lord... Guys, he might've been thinking 'meat processing'."

All of them reacted with disgust and disbelief.

"Who the hell would think that?! I mean, WHY?"

"Well, we are a bunch of peeps in scary black powersuits with a bad rep a mile long. Doesn't help that Number One keeps calling our recruitments 'Human Resourcing', either."

Yeah, that Number One was a weird guy. Started calling people by designated numbers, never seemed to get out of his powersuit, saw practically everything that went on... They had their work cut out for them to seem halfway-tolerable to the wasteland. That's why this place was so well-protected. All kinds of folks wanna take their shots at the Enclave, and they couldn't allow it.
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