Tiberius67

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Lee's Gun Shop

“Military Frequency AF47”, James replied without looking up. Reaching for another box, he lifted out the chassis of a toaster then began to sort through the parts inside....after a moment he found something, and held it up for Steve to see. “Would this work?”

Steve took a look. The switch was similar to the one they needed to replace, except there was a chunk of plastic still attached to it....most likely the casing of the device it once was installed in.

"Let me see", Steve said once the switch was handed to him. The switch had been held in place with a nut, he found it turned easily with his fingers so he simply removed it from the piece of plastic....mildly curious why Corrine had cut it out of the casing rather than just unscrew the nut, before dismissing the thought as irrelevant. "Looks good." He then removed the MFC from the device and then swapped out the switch and then fired up the solder gun and soldered the wires to the switch. He then replaced the MFC and as he reassembled the casing to the device, Corrine returned.

"I'm back," she called into the shop, placing the radio onto the counter. "How're you makin' out, in here? Can I help?"

“We might just have gotten a working switch.”, James replied to her.

"Great job, Corrine", Steve said, "James found a switch for us, just got done putting it in. Well...here goes nothing", then flipped the switch. The green light on the device immediately turned on, and the needle in the gauge moved, raising up noticeably when he aimed it in a North-Westerly direction. He smiled triumphantly. "it works...all that remains is to test it. Turn the radio on and set it to Military AF-47...when you key the mic the meter should spike when we point it that way."

When the mic was keyed, the needle jumped to maximum when the device was pointed at the radio, dropping off again when it was released. Through the Ham radio's speaker, a steady beep from the signal could be heard.

"It works", Steve said happily. "if we had the time using the tracker and the radio we could probably triangulate the position to within a stone's throw but time is something we don't have. If we're going to get the armor and weapons, at least, we need to go in the next few minutes. Once everyone's back, we need to go if we're going to do this. What do you guys think?" Steve asked in concluded.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - The Gun Shop

“Sounds like a terrible experience", James said, "I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to take to the sea like that after so many years of fancy vertibirds.”, he chuckled a little, pushing away the bittersweet memory of the past. “Where are you from originally? You seem a little familiar.”

"I was born in Megaton", Steve replied, "But grew up in Rivet City. Was in a caravan with my dad...but our little caravan stumbled into the middle of a fight between the Brotherhood, or at least the ones calling themselves Outcasts back then, and the Enclave near the Ft Detrick crater....God only knows what they wanted there, the Chinese hit whatever the pace was so hard that even ghouls can't go in that crater without turning feral. Dad didn't make it out, and we lost the cargo so the caravan went bust. I had nothing keeping me in the Capital Wasteland anymore, so I went down to Baltimore and used my experience on repair crews in Rivet City and signed onto a ship...been at it ever since.

“I already have Shark, Bear, and Talon”, he said as he gestured at the weapons on him. “But we lack armor unless this shop has some, or we get to the vertibird tonight. Also I'll standby to help you get the tracker up and running.” He squinted out a cracked window at the setting sun. “I’m not sure we have much time for anything if we don’t start preparing now. And I’m sure going outside the wall at night will be a bit more dangerous than day time.”

"You're right", Steve observed, "we need to get this done soon if we're going to have time to make the trip and back before it gets too late. He flipped the light on over the workbench, and once Corrine unlocked the chest he removed a screw driver set, the multi-meter, and rummaged around until he found a soldering iron, which he set aside for a moment.

"Corrine", Steve asked, "Is there a working ham radio in town? If so, could you borrrow it and bring it here? It'll help test this device."

Steve turned his attention to the device, and carefully removed the screws and placed them in a small container he found on Corrine's shelf. He then slowly opened the casing and examined the contents. It was powered by a MFC, and a decal of the circuitry diagram had helpfully been placed inside the back cover. Testing with the multimeter indicated the circuit was good, as was the MFC.....yet there was no power. Steve looked closer at the power switch, and found the problem, the contacts on the back of it had been snapped off by the impact. The switch was ruined, but jury-rigging a replacement would be simple enough....all that was needed was another that was about the same size. He carefully removed the switch.

"We need a replacement for this, James", he said as he showed him the switch. "it's broken but any switch about this size will work in it's place. Other than that it should still work....at least as long as it doesn't take another blow like that one again."

He then began rummaging around in the various bins and boxes on Corrine's shelf, and gestured for James to join him.

"I forgot to ask", Steve said, "What frequency is this device set to detect?"

War Never Changes

Kodiak Airport

After landing safely, the ponderous aircraft followed the marshaler off the runway and onto the taxiway, towards the terminal amid the first flurries of the snowstorm they had been warned about on approach. Once the terminal was reached, they were directed to spot in front of one of the hangars, and instructed to stop. A passenger boarding stair was quickly put in place and Senior Scribe Nakamura, her team behind her, began to disembark from the aircraft. She shivered, feeling the cold even under her pre-war Air Force Parka. Looking around from the top of the stair, she saw the ground crews were approaching the aircraft, preparing to connect it to a pushback tug to bring it inside the hangar. Also approaching were a group of soldiers, their heavy armor visible underneath the bearskin cloaks.

Though her grandfather had been one of those who accompanied the Lord-Paladin to the Midwest from California nearly a century ago, she had never expected to see the Pacific Coast herself. But she had a Duty, her specialty was disposal of the bewildering array of nuclear devices the Old World...both US and Chinese...had built in the vain hope they would protect them, and that Duty had brought her here. The mercenaries had found a live Minuteman XI ICBM, and had asked for help in getting rid of it....help the Brotherhood was only too pleased to provide. No doubt the current inhabitants of Guilin, in China, would also be appreciative.....that was the target for this missile under response plan MX-CN91. Why pre-war planners would target a ICBM on one of China's most popular tourist spots, according to pre-war records, was beyond her understanding. She suspected it was out of sheer bloody-mindedness...which made it all the more obscene to her.

Once she descended the stairs, she apprached what looked to be the leader of the soldiers.

"Good Morning", she said, "I am Senior Scribe Amanda Nakamura, I am the Director of the Midwestern Order's NEST Team. We are here to assist you with your recent discovery."

"Also", Amanda added, "We have brought payment for a contract your Company has taken from us. I was not briefed on the nature of that operation, but I am authorized to say I am delivering payment in full. The flight crew will assist your people in offloading it from the aircraft at your convenience."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Gun Shop

“Somewhat....", the merc said, "I won’t lie and say we didn’t kill most if not of the people we came across but when we killed you it was quick and painless; Brotherhood taking away people’s weapons “because you can’t be trusted” left you weak and vulnerable for whoever showed up..”

"So your Death Squads were doing us a favor, is that your excuse?", Steve sneered, "Well, forgive me if I'm not feeling very grateful. I'm not a fan of the Brotherhood by any means, but I can't deny they did us a solid by dealing with you people. I always thought the Brotherhood claims that you people tried to spike the Purifier with poison were bullshit...listening to you, I see now that it probably wasn't."

About that time a third man appeared behind the merc...he had a soldier-like air about him too, in spite of the clothes. He stood there, quietly listening, as Corrine and the merc....who she clearly disliked...began to bicker again about who ran the gun shop now.

“I have my own plan to help out", the man said. "I was in a Brotherhood of Steel vertibird on the way over here when it crashed somewhere on the island. It’s got good gear on it: power armor, heavy weapons, ammunition, and the armor plating could be salvaged from it”

"All of which we desperately need right about now", Steve replied, perking up a bit as the idea gave him that hope that between Corrine and their stranger, his luck might be finally turning for the better. "The idea I had will be a lot more doable if the operator is in the iron. If the hose bursts, it would kill or maim an unprotected operator. How far away is the wreck?"

“I have a device that can locate the downed vertibird, but it broke when I… fell out of the bird mid air.”, he held out a device, which Steve took. “Think you can fix it?"

Steve gave it a cursory glance, feeling the warmth as Corrine pressed up against him from behind and looked over his shoulder at the device.

"Damn it", Steve thought with slight irritation, "We were having a moment here...couldn't they have waited a bit?"

It was rectangular, with a couple buttons and dials, and a analog gauge. The cover was cracked in a couple places, but at least wasn't crushed. When he operated the power switch, nothing happened.

"Maybe", Steve said, "If you don't mind I'll need to get it apart to know for sure." He then glanced over at Corrine, her chin perched on his shoulder....noticing her face was close enough to his to kiss...

"Corrine", Steve asked, inwardly cursing the two newcomers as he restrained the urge to kiss her, "Could you open up your tool box for me, please?"

"Also, what are your names?", the Man asked, "I’m James Gregor Castner, former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel”.

"I'm Steve Miller", Steve said, "Chief Engineer, and sole survivor of the SS Regina...she was a tramp steamer out of Halifax. Went down in a storm about three weeks ago. Folks that picked me up dropped me off here."

“Since you’re the better Handyman, it seems, I’ll leave you to fix that and find out who owns this store", the merc said as he turned to leave. "Even with the tracker fixed we may not be able to recover the equipment in time for the atom fruitcakes attack and should have access to the store’s stock without risk of being shot for being a thief.”

"You do that", Steve said, glad to have the man out of his hair for a bit. Given the situation, he needed the Enclaver, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "I could use a rifle as well, and Corrine needs 10mm ammo and N99 magazines."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Closed Gun Shop

Corrine accepted the pistol from Steve with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, then began to answer his questions. She mentioned that a pre-war atomic submarine was present at the island. Steve's stomach churned a bit when he remembered what "SSBN" meant....it was a carrier for nuclear missiles.

I hope to God they launched them all during the War....if it still has one or more on board and someone finds a way to launch it....

There was also another vessel, MV Azalea...but that was probably a freighter. No...the gun and multimeter came from that submarine. That might be something worth looking into...as much as he disliked the Brotherhood, they would be able to deal with a stray nuke better than anyone else he could think of. He'd seen the bomb craters around Washington with his own eyes...the idea of something like that being set off again made him ill.

As far as the cooker, apparantly that belonged to the owner of The Last Plank, Mitch. Corrine indicated the merchant Brooks and someone called the Mariner had heavy tools. The big problem would be protection for whoever operated the hose...if it ruptured someone with exposed skin would be scalded to death where they stood.

And before she could reply to his final question, a voice from the door interrupted.

“She was referring to me.”

Steve looked over to see the merc from the bar standing in the doorway, his coat thrown open to reveal a well worn gray uniform.

"What the hell is the meaning of this? You just put yerself into any conversation you want?", Corrine said angrily, suspicion and dislike written all over her face. She shook her head and pointed a finger at James, accusingly. "Well, he ain't lyin'. Up in Acadia, he flat out told Bishop and Rose he was 'Enclave'." She paused for a moment, then added, "Didn't mean much to me, but now that I think about it, Bishop and Rose weren't too happy about it."

"Because they have a habit of killing anyone they run across that's not in their little tribe", Steve replied. "They make the Brotherhood seem almost reasonable by comparison."

"Now," she all but growled at James, "what do you want?"

"To get a gun.... This is a Gun store is it not?", the merc replied, "Plasma defender may be good up close but I need something for long range, maybe one of lever action rifles Old Grumpy has.”

"The owner's dead, I hear", Steve said, "Not sure who is seeing to his affairs these days. Probably oughta find who that is before you go walking off with something. Folk out in the Wasteland tend to shoot thieves....just sayin'"

War Never Changes

Inquisitor Wilson - Covington, IN

Covington, IN - Sheriff's Office - 0635 CT (8:35 PT)

"Allow me", Inquisitor Wilson said as leaned over the the table and presented a flip lighter so the youngish woman across from him could light her cigarette. Normally, Wilson wouldn't allow a interviewee to smoke in his presence...it was a disgusting habit, not to mention unhealthy...but when working for willing cooperation from a subject, small gestures could mean a lot.

"Thanks", she said as she lit the cigarette, then settled back in her chair. she was still relatively young, in her mid-twenties, though the guarded expression women in her line of work assumed made her look older. She was dressed similarly to Brother Simon, who leaned against the far wall listening to the interview, her rifle leaning up against the wall next to him. Though Simon...now Acting Mayor...was relevant to this, he was mainly there to reassure Betty, who was somewhat nervous to find herself face to face with one of Barnaky's dreaded Inquisitors.

"Please be advised, this interview is now being recorded", Brother Wilson said, then picking up a small remote and turning on the camera. "This is Inquisitor Charles Wilson, OIC Field Investigation Group II, in Covington, IN on this date at 0635 Central Time. This proceeding is the initial post-mission debriefing of Betty Henderson, 26, a resident of Covington and Auxiliary of the Office of State."

"To begin, tell me about yourself, Betty", Wilson said, "While Brother Simon has spoken to me about you, I would like to hear from you in your own words why you chose to work with us."

Betty's story was like many he had heard before across the Wasteland outside...a widow with children who had found herself obliged to either sacrifice her pride or see her children starve. To make matters worse, most of the proceeds from selling her body went to the murderer of her husband, the former Sheriff of Covington, now in a cell awaiting his fate. That alone would have seen him hanged for public corruption as an object lesson....the fact that Betty wasn't the only resident he had victimized just made that fate more certain...but he also turned out to be a member of the Cult cell that plagued the town. Word had come down to transport him back to Danville...it seems they had something special planned for him.

Unfortunately for former Sheriff Roscoe P Coletrain...she was made of sterner stuff than he had realized. She had proved eager to work with Brother Simon, to the point of continuing her "work"...and the things Coletrane forced her to perform were revolting, and clearly pained her to discuss in front of a camera...to help the Cause. Thanks to the information she provided, Simon was able to round up most of the Cult cell to present to him gift-wrapped upon his arrival. The demented gibbering he had elicited from the prisoners when he toured the cell-block had proven Mrs Henderson's efficiency...he had already recommended her and her children be evacuated as soon as possible.

Wilson was, as delicately as he could, asking questions about the conversations with Coletrane that led to her discovering his membership in the Cult when he heard two explosions, one after another, seemingly outside. They were close enough that some plaster fell from the ceiling of the old building.

"What the hell?", Wilson said as he reached for his radio to call his command vehicle. "Brother Jones, what just...."

He was interrupted by a third explosion, this one much closer. More plaster fell from the ceiling, and the door was blasted inward and the lights went out as smoke billowed into the room as all three of them were knocked off thier feet (or chairs). After a moment, the old emergency lights flickered into life as Wilson got to his feet and dusted himself off dazedly. Simon helped Betty to her feet and handed her rifle to her. Wilson drew his plasma pistol and approached the door just as the decrepit sprinker system activated, a drizzle of brackish water emanating from each head. Looking cautiously around the door, he saw that the main lobby of the old Pre-War building was devastated....the third bomb had detonated inside the building. The guards that had been posted here were all dead. Staggering outside, he saw bodies everywhere.

"Suicide bombers", he heard Simon say behind him, "Gotta be".

He noticed the War Correspondent from the Administration's Office of War Information climbing down from the APC she had been operating her camera from to help.

"No, Sister", Wilson explained, "Get back to your post, I want you to keep filming!" she hesitated a minute, caught off guard by the order. He added, "the people need to see what kind of degenerates we're fighting!". That did it and she got back aboard the APC and manned her camera.

"Jones", Lewis barked into his radio, "Situation report!"

The command APC reported that the rest of the settlement was quiet...thankfully the bombing did not seem to be the opening of a counter-attack. He ordered the recon drones circling above the settlement to be re-tasked to cover the area around the settlement in case this was a distraction for a larger attack from outside. Fortunately, that was not the case either, though one of the drones picked up a figure running away from the town. Wilson ordered the contact to be followed and turned his situation back to dealing with the aftermath of the attack.

"What do you think, Brother Simon", Wilson asked. "Were they trying to rescue the prisoners...or silence them?"

"Perhaps", Simon replied with the serenity only a true fanatic can display, "Or they might have wanted to provoke a over-reaction against the people, or to make the people doubt we can protect them....or perhaps they just wanted to kill as many people as they could before we finished them. it's best not to read too much into what they do...trying to understand them too much leads to madness and Heresy. All we need know is that they are our Enemy and will stop at nothing to strike at us.

"For my part", Simon continued, "I believe this attack was an admission that Covington is lost to them."

"Yes", Wilson said wearily, "Your words ring true. There are probably only a few left here now....we just have to find them. I suspect in the sewers, though the logical place to start would be to search the homes of confirmed members for clues. For now, I want a curfew set to limit the casualties they can cause."

"It will be done, Inquisitor", Simon said, saluting Brotherhood style before taking his leave to carry out the order.
Wilson then turned to the rather distraught Betty.

"Collect your children...I'll send some men with you...then report to the Command vehicle", Wilson said, "I'm ordering you evacuated with the wounded. It's not out of the realm of possibility that they were trying to get to you....and I am not going to take that chance."

As the detail left for Betty's house, Wilson sighed and pounded twice on the rear door of the Command APC then moved back as it slowly opened to let him in. He was not looking forward to submitting a report on this mess.

It was going to be a long war.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - The Hull

"Look", Corrine said, "I don't know anything about synths, other than a bunch of 'em went up to Acadia to live in peace. But..." She sighed. "I agree. Synth or person, we need folks to help stand up for our home, and if there's someone lurkin' about trying to take us out before we get that chance, then...you're right." She then added, "What do we do, though? It's not like I know anythin' about tracking a killer. Longfellow's probably the best hunter in these parts and he made his opinion quite clear back at the Plank. What's next?"

"I know where she's hiding", Steve replied. "Problem is approaching her without her bolting deeper into the fog...or worse, us getting shot....she's terrified out of her wits. She probably isn't much safer where she is, though..given what is coming."

"Oh, right," Corrine mumbled, as she fidgeted around in her coat pocket and produced a pistol, by the look of it a N99. "You asked for a gun, well, here it is." She smiled sheepishly. "I don't know anything about how it works or what to do with it, though."

"I'll help you with it", Steve said as he reached out for it. Corrine placed it in his hand, and he examined it. Sure enough, it was a Colt N99...a 10mm automatic that from the sheer numbers still floating around must have been the most popular handgun in the Old World...the "US PROPERTY" Stamp on the side of the frame marked it as military issue. The finish was somewhat worn, but it didn't look to be in bad shape. He popped the magazine out and palmed it, then tried to rack the slide...but it resisted opening.

"That's not good", Steve said with a grimace. "Let's go to that shop so I can get a better look at this."

Together, they descended the stairs back to the alley, and Corrine unlocked the old gun shop and they both entered. Steve turned on the light above the weapons workbench and got to work. The internal mechanism seemed gummed up....Steve was concerned by what he would find if he got it apart, if he could, anyway....but after some effort, he finally managed to open the slide, ejecting a unfired cartridge, it's brass case split at the mouth and green with verdigris. He then locked the slide back and flipped the take-down lever and field-stripped the old pistol. Examining the weapon, he learned the difficulty. Someone had chosen to lubricate it with some kind of vegetable oil, and quite some time ago, by the look of it. While vegetable oils seemed like a good lubricant...they weren't as when they dried they leave a residue that gums up the surfaces it was intended to lubricate. Grabbing a cleaning kit from a shelf of the workbench, he cleaned the gummy substance out of the pistol, finding that under the muck it was still in good condition....the vegetable oil had at least preserved it. The bore cleaned up well, once he got the gunk and verdigris out of the chamber. With all major part groups cleaned and properly lubricated, he reassembled the pistol, locked the slide back and placed it on the workbench. Pulling the magazine out of his pocket, he removed the cartridges and placed them on the workbench. He then disassembled the magazine, cleaned it, then reassembled it again. The weapon now cleaned, he picked up the pistol and inserted the empty magazine into the butt, then hit the slide release. The slide leapt forward into battery with a satisfying "Thwack". He then engaged the safety and pulled the trigger...grunting with satisfaction when it did not fire. He then disengaged the safety and pulled the trigger, and the hammer fell as it should.

"It'll do nicely", Steve said to Corrine with a satisfied air as he began to examine the cartridges that had been loaded in it. Four of them, including the round that had been chambered, were bad....cases that had been reloaded one too many times or were otherwise neglected. The other nine looked OK...but she needed more than that. He began rummaging around in drawers and boxes on the shelves....getting lucky and finding a half-full box of 10mm cartridges that looked good and another N99 magazine.

"Here's how you load the magazine, Corrine", Steve said as he demonstrated by loading one magazine with twelve rounds. he then handed her the other magazine and pushed the box, now with only thirteen rounds in it, towards her. "now you load this one." Once she had loaded it, he demonstrated how to operate the safety, then loaded one of the magazines into the butt and racked the slide, chambering a round, and engaged the safety. He then handed the pistol to her butt first.

"It's loaded now", Steve said, "You have twelve shots, once the last one is fired, the slide will lock back and you remove the empty magazine and insert another like I showed you. Make sure you put the empty magazine in your pocket so you don't lose it...you can reload it later. To fire, disengage the safety. With the safety off, it will fire if you pull the trigger, so watch where you point it." He then handed her the other magazine. "Unless you can open up one of these cans, that is all the rounds you have...don't waste them."

"A few questions", Steve said, "Is there a pre-war military base on this island? I've noticed a lot of stuff that has US Government markings on them, usually that stuff only turns up if there is some sort of military facility in the area."

"Secondly", Steve continued, "Back in the Last Plank, Rose said something about meeting a "Enclave Bastard".....any idea who she meant by that?"

"Also", Steve concluded, "I've got an idea about rigging that boiler they're using to cook Mirelurks to spray scalding water on those giant critters you mentioned.....nothing that can feel pain will stand still for that...who would we talk to about getting permission, not to mention the tools, to do that?"

War Never Changes

Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel - 0300 CT (5:00 AM PT)


Interstate 74, Illinois-Indiana Border (appx 10 miles East of Danville, Illinois)

Small crowds of civilians...some armed...stood on good vantage points along the edge of the town to watch the show. With the recent call-ups, and the general issue of weapons to Veteran's Clubs...not to mention the intermittent firing all day from the artillery positions in the fortifications ringing the town...they knew something big was coming, and what they saw before them proved them correct. Normally, the old Interstate was deserted, especially this time of night, except for the MP patrols, but now it was alive with a level of traffic not seen since long before any of them were born. Hours before, units of mounted Infantry had been spotted traveling the highway, now several massive Behemoths strode down both lanes, followed by columns of marching Infantry, APCs, smaller robots such as Pacification Units, and even a few Tanks. Behind them, were columns of trucks and horse-drawn vehicles, some pulling field pieces, then behind them the rear guard, more infantry backed up by Behemoths. Eventually, they disappeared to the east, and things returned to normal. The mood amongst the civilians as they returned to their homes was generally upbeat....at long last the Lord Paladin was doing something about that damned Cult.

Covington, IN - appx 0330

Inquisitor Wilson, standing exposed from the wast up out of the Commander's Hatch of a APC, impassively glanced at a old Interstate sign as the vehicle rumbled by it.

Indianapolis- 80 mi.
Cincinnati - 189 mi.

He'd likely see both cities eventually, but right now it was the settlement of Covington that demanded his attention. He spat orders to the driver through his helmet microphone, and the APC broke from the main formation and obediently took the off-ramp for Covington, followed by the other APCs and vehicles, not to mention robots, under his command. His mission was to secure the settlement, and oversee the process of integrating it...and it's people...into the Order's lands. Brother Martin's Missionaries had found this fertile ground, so they would have plenty of local help, but nothing could be taken for granted. The Cult was insidious, they undoubtedly had at least some followers here that needed to be purged before they could interfere in the war effort, not to mention other assorted Mutants that had to be rounded up as a matter of racial hygiene.

The column rumbled down the road, coming to a stop near the gates of the settlement, which occupied about a eight of the pre-war city limits. As the Pacification robots strode forward to screen, the Familiars dismounted their APCs and took up a defensive formation. When all was in readiness, Wilson turned on the APC's loudspeaker and spoke.

"Attention people of Covington! I am Inquisitor Wilson, and I speak for the Brotherhood of Steel! Open your gates in the name of Lord-Paladin Barnaky!"

The gate promptly opened, and a tall, thin man with the air of a fanatic strode out. He was wearing a Combat armor chest plate over his rough Wastelander garb, he also wore a black armband with the symbol of the Brotherhood on it and had a IR beacon on a cord around his neck. He carried a AER-9 Laser Rifle by the barrel, which he raised over his head and waved excitedly. His headset crackled and a report came from his assistant inside the vehicle that telemetry from the Pacification Robots was a positive ID for Brother Simon, the Missionary assigned by the Office of State to Covington.

"Praise be to Barnaky!", Simon shouted enthusiastically, "The Jubilee has come!"

Wilson called out a order for his troops to hold fire unless fired upon and climed out of the APC and then down the outside to reach the ground, he then approached the man.

"Greetings, Brother Simon", Wilson said to the man, "What is the situation?"

"My people control the gates, the Sheriff's Office, and the Town Hall, Inquisitor", replied Simon. "Most of the people are with us....Raiders and the Cult have made this fertile ground for Barnaky's Word. There is a Cult cell here, but we've only identified two of them. We've arrested those most likely to be subversives, and posted guards on their property...they await your pleasure. I suggest you talk to the Town Whore, Betty....her information has proven most useful to us, she is responsible for what we have on the Cult cell. We captured one alive, the other shot himself to avoid arrest." He then added, "She'll need to be resettled once this town is purged....her cover was compromised, she lured the one we caught into a trap."

Prostitution was heavily frowned upon in Order lands, though technically legal....if only to avoid forcing it underground. Discouraging their charges from plying the Trade was a significant part of a Block Warden's duties. To the Inquisition, prostitutes did have value as their clients would say the most amazing things to and around them. In the Wasteland, most women only did it out of desperation, such as feeding their children, and an offer of resettlement into Order lands where they could make an honest living and start over without the stigma of having been a prostitute usually quickly get them talking of their own volition. Those that withstood the careful screening tended to prove loyal citizens.

"Make sure that appears in your report, Brother", Wilson said, "and I will see it done." As his men entered the settlement to take control over from the Missionary's Partisans, Wilson patted Simon on the back affectionately and added, "You've done well, Brother."


Evansville, IN

A sizable naval force was assembled in the river just off the city. Four large river monitors, with numerous smaller patrol craft and a couple of rams, all post-war manufacture, ugly but brutally efficient. Towering over them all were two larger ships, clearly of a pre-war design. One had the number 325 painted on the sides of the hull at the bow. The other one closely resembled the first, but different in some details as if it were an imperfect copy. They sat at anchor, waiting. At 0300 precisely, a red flare went up from the shipyard. It was answered by a red flare from the lead monitor. The ships of the Brotherhood's new Ohio River Squadron then weighed anchor, and slowly increasing their speed to ten knots, began to steam upriver, behind a screen of patrol craft, with another group swinging into line behind them.

Bunker Alpha - 0600 CT (8:00 AM PT)

In the busy Operations Room, the reports were coming in from the front. The Central Force was moving forward down I-74 without any significant opposition so far, just scattered Raider bands and a small war-band of Cultists that was quickly dealt with the Mounted Infantry screening the advance. The advance down I-70 was making reasonable progress, though the Raider bands in Terre Haute turned out to be stronger than expected, requiring deployment of two companies of Knights to spearhead a assault. Fighting was in progress but the commanders in the field expected resistance would be broken within twenty-four hours. The Southern force was making good progress, they were on schedule to reach Ferdinand about 1700. The Ohio River Squadron had reached Owensboro, KY and after a short and victorious naval engagement with a group of River Raiders had landed some infantry to clear out their nest...fighting was ongoing but the issue was not in doubt. In the North, Inquisition familiars, backed with troops from the Northern Reserve, were reducing resistance in Gary as the main force continued to advance. The fighting was fierce, but as the enemy had been pushed away from I-90 and I-94, they could not interfere with the Northern Force linking up at the junction between I90 and I-94 around 1000. Current estimates were that it would require two days to secure Gary, but the advance itself was on schedule.

Offut AFB, Omaha - 0300 (8:00am PT)

Three cargo aircraft, and a aerial tanker, took off from the airfield. The largest, a C-5 Galaxy, turned North, the other three West over Legion territory. Over New Mexico, after aerial refueling, the cargo planes parted company, one heading South towards Texas, one West towards the Mojave. the Tanker, it's job done, returned East and landed at Offut. Several hours later, the first cargo plane landed at it's destination, a airfield near Big MT held by the Van Graffs. The other took a route avoiding Texan territory, entering Angels of War airspace and flew to Brownsville, requesting landing instructions.

Arctic Haven Airspace, around 0500 Alaska Time (6:00 AM PT, 8:00 AM CT)
The massive C-5 cruised along at an altitude 0f 10,000 feet. The sun had still not risen, so the lights of the relatively few settlements in what once was Alaska stood out in the inky blackness. About 15 minutes from reaching their destination, the aircraft signaled on the frequency that had been provided to contact Arctic Haven's airfield.

"Foxhound, this is Brotherhood Flight Charlie Five One", the aircraft signaled. "We are inbound, ETA 15 minutes. Request clearance to land and landing instructions, over."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Outside the Last Plank

Easing through the door, Steve caught sight of Rose heading away and followed her at a discreet distance. He could tell by her body language and the way she would start when she came across one of the harbormen that she was badly frightened. He knew little of what went on in the Commonwealth, but he had heard a little over the years....if these androids, or synths as Rose called them, were like Harkness, then she was right to be scared...Harkness was the toughest SOB he'd ever met.

Walking down the street, Steve noticed the giant boiler that was being used to cook a Mirelurk whole. Its size, and sturdy construction made wheels turn in his head.

"Perhaps", Steve thought, "that could be converted into a weapon against the mutated creatures the cult commanded". He knew full well what scalding hot steam and water was capable of...he'd seen men die, or wish they were dead, from it's effects...perhaps it would work on them. He couldn't imagine how any living creature could tolerate being doused with scalding hot water for very long, instinct should force it to flee immediately. He made a mental note to bring it up with Corrine if he hadn't burned his bridges with her. He should have given more thought to what he said, but he found it hard to be patient with such stubbornness. Didn't they see they needed every gun they could muster for whatever was coming tomorrow?

Steve showed that thought aside for the moment and kept focused on the task at hand. Near the end of the dock he could see that merc from the bar talking to another man. Rose maneuvered to avoid them and dodged between some buildings. Steve followed, and saw that they had come to the Hull. Steve managed to duck out of her sight as Rose looked around. Satisfied no-one was watching, she vaulted over the wall. Steve approached, seeing her darting off into the mist. He noted the spot she had picked was close enough to the ground so that one could get back up...a dangerous oversight. committing the location to memory, he looked around. The coast was clear, so he went over after her. Pausing to pull his .45 revolver, he checked to make sure the cylinder was loaded and then quietly as he could went after her. Fortunately, the fog was relatively thin, so he was able to catch sight of her fairly quickly. She made for a old boarded up gift shop, moved a old board aside then crawled in and put it back into position behind her.

The fog drifting around the derelict buildings really began to creep him out, not to mention the odd warm feeling that came and went as he moved between patches of fog, but he chanced it and approached the building. From inside, he faintly heard the hissing and squealing of what had to be a radio of some kind over the annoying buzzing in his ears.

"Mercer Safehouse. Come in Mercer..." he heard Rose plead, "Goddammit come in. I need help!"

The woman was clearly terrified. Enough so that he questioned the wisdom of contacting her here, or at least alone. He guessed she would stay here a while, trying to raise help from her friends, and give him time to see if Corrine would help or not. He had no idea what he was going to do if she wasn't there...near as he could tell she was the only resident of the town likely to hear him out. He decided he had better go back. Retracing his steps, he returned to the low spot at the Hull. after carefully listening, and not hearing anyone, he holstered his revolver and jumped up, getting a purchase on the top of the makeshift wall and pulling himself up until he could get an elbow over the wall. Thankfully, no sentry was in sight. Steve then threw a leg over the wall and hoisted himself over. No alarm having been raised, Steve dusted himself off and walked back into town, coming out a past different building and crossing the street and heading for the path to where he hoped Corrine was waiting for him. Heading past the old gun shop, then up the stairs, where he found Corrine, pensively, waiting there for him.

"I knew you'd come", Steve said with great relief, looking around to make sure they were alone. Once satisfied, he turned to her. "I promised I'd explain, so here goes. Back in the Capital Wasteland, I grew up in a settlement called Rivet City, as I told you. About ten years ago, before I left something happened....."

Steve then quickly explained to Corrine his story about Harkness, the security chief of Rivet City, and the story Butch had told him about Harkness's secret...something he had never told anyone else before.

"You see, Corrine", Steve concluded, "Harkness lived among us for years, and no-body suspected him of being a "android", or "synth", or whatever. I certainly didn't. If he could fool us, one of them could fool you harbor-folk, too. Whoever killed Bishop is not a friend to this town, and we can't wish them away. We also cannot be sure they will stop with Rose, either. And however you cut it, letting this killer roam free weakens this town..in fact, it already has. When the Cult comes we're going to need every last man, woman, or child who can handle a gun if we want to make it. Bishop could have helped...but he's dead. Rose needs out help....not only because it's the right thing to do, but because we need her as badly as she needs us." He then looked at Corrine hopefully. "What do you say?"

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - The Last Plank

Listening to Rose talk about the Institute, and "synths" pretending to be people....a old memory of the last time he'd been to Rivet City floated up to the surface. The Lone Wanderer had been through two weeks before and shot two men down like dogs in the Science Lab....people were still talking about it. Butch Deloria, ever eager to advertise his relationship with the Vault Kid, had plenty to say about it.

The Muddy Rudder - Ten Years Ago
"Wish I'd have seen it", Butch DeLoria said gleefully as he nursed his beer. "That hot brunette down in the Science Lab, Janice, told me all about it when I did her hair last week. She said the old guy, Zim, or something, had been bugging the Dragon Lady (what pretty much everyone outside the Lab called Dr Li behind her back) trying to get her help finding this "android". She thought he was a fruitcake so she wouldn't see him, told Janice to play "Talk to the Hand" with him. Guy hung around for nearly a month, then Richie (DeLoria was proud of the fact he was one of the few people to be on a first name basis with the Lone Wanderer, as he had grown up with him and run off from the Vault himself after they had some kind of riot down there) swings through and talks to the guy and agrees to help him out."

"Did he find him?", Steve asked. "Is that who he shot in the Lab?"

"Nah, man", Butch answered. "He went around asking questions, rumor has it he even went into the bow of this old rust-bucket looking for clues. But about a week later, he rolls into the Science Lab. He goes up to Zim, and tells him he found out who he was looking for. Janice says he whispered the name in his ear so she didn't hear it. But she heard what came next. Zim was all happy with what Richie told him, and paid him off. then Richie unslings the plasma rifle he had slung on his back and holds it up like he was showing it to him.

"He gave me this rifle", Richie said to him, "I think his idea was that I kill you and your friend with it."

Zim laughed and laughed, but Janice said then Richie suddenly got all ice cold.

"But you know what the pity is...", Richie said as he started to take aim at them, "...when I'm paid to do a job, I always follow my job through."

"Then Zap! Zap!", DeLoria said as he held up both hands mimicked with shooting a rifle at something, "he dusts them both where they stand!"

"WTF?", Steve said with astonishment, "Right in front of everybody? That's nuts! Did they arrest him? How did he get out of that?"

"Nope", DeLoria said with a smirk, "Dragon Lady had a cow, but she really got mad when she called Security and they told her Zim and his friend were spies for the Falls and he'd been deputized to off them. Janice says she flipped out and ran up to the Market and had it out with Harkness. She didn't hear conversation but everyone in the Market at the time did...Harkness in effect told her to STFU and get over it, and any other slaver he found on board was getting more of the same."

"Wow", Steve said, "that kid is something else. they ever figure out who that "android" was?"

"Nope", DeLoria said impishly, "Not even blabber-mouth Vera wants to speculate on that, given how the last two people to ask questions literally got scraped off the floor of the Lab. DeLoria then got an off gleam in his eye, and said very quietly. "But do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure", Steve said, "Lay it on me."

Butch then grabbed Steve by the lapels and pulled him close, and whispered in his ear.

"Harkness used to have a Plasma rifle", Deloria whispered, "Used to." He then let go of Steve and patted a cheek with his hand affectionately and winked.

"i'd keep that under your hat if I were you", DeLoria said with a smirk, "If something bad happens, I'd have to tell Richie you knew. You really don't want to be on his shit list. You know, back in the Vault he was quiet and kept to himself...". Deloria didn't finish his thought as he was interrupted by a familiar pleading whine.

"Butchie, baby", Trinnie...the closest thing to a whore Rivet City would allow on board...pleaded said as she wound herself around DeLoria, "My glass is empty...."

"Yeah, Yeah, Baby", DeLoria replied suggestively as he took the opportunity to let his hands roam while she giggled, "Butchie Baby is thirsty, too...perhaps we can help each other out?" DeLoria said as he shifted his attention entirely to the young Lamplighter.

Back at the Last Plank

Rose finished explaining the situation as she saw it, but it wasn't received well. First the old man, who he now knew was named Longfellow, throws a fit about Mainlanders and their problems and storms out, followed by Corrine telling her, in effect, she was on her own as they had problems enough already. As if the locals had actually been doing anything about them.

"Fine," Rose retorted angrily, "I'll handle this myself then. Its not like I'm not used to it. Its been this way from town to town across the wastes. People just shut their doors and hold their ears, and hope that The Institute doesn't take them. Nobody wants to fight back and nobody is willing to risk their lives to help a Synth. I'll figure out what's going on here one way or the other, and I WILL find the person that killed Bishop. All of you 'tough' harbor folk can go back to drinking yourselves into a stupor."

She then slammed some caps on the counter, then picked up her weapon and stalked out, the door slamming shut behind her. The other locals in the bar looked up for a moment, then back to their drinks.

"Well", Steve said quietly to Corrine, "That could have gone better." He then added. "I don't live here, so I figured I'd keep my mouth shut and follow your and Longfellow's lead...that was clearly a mistake." He then looked her right in the eye. "You have a gun? Get it if you don't have it on you and meet me at that spot on the Hull we talked at in fifteen minutes. I have a story of my own about "synths" from the Commonwealth that I'll explain to you then....if you don't come looking I'll assume you don't care. In any case, if what she says is true...and I have my own reasons for believing it is...she is next. And whatever this Institute is, I think I can safely say it doesn't have our best interests at heart. I have no idea who killed Bishop or why...but I'll be damned if I sit around and twiddle my thumbs while some bastard goes around killing people that we, frankly, need badly if we're going to see the sunrise the morning after next."

Steve then got to his feet and headed for the door, cracking it open to see if he could spot Rose. Once he felt he could leave without her spotting him right off, he slipped out, and quietly closed the door behind him, then headed along, doing his best to shadow Rose without being too obvious.