[color=00aeef]Chapter 3[/color] “So?” North spoke setting down his stout of mead. “I assume you know the details by now.” The two Rangers nodded, while North continued speaking. “Good then, I’ll be taking my leave.” He began to stand when he was called out to. “High Chief!?” Jonathan spoke up. “Should we be concerned that we may have a tag along?” North stopped his hands had barely left the table when Jonathan addressed him. “No. If you’re referring to my trouble making Daughter she’s off to see her Girlfriend, I think she brought ales and Ashe told me she had plans to keep my Daughter busy for the day. “Ah. Things seem to be going well for them.” Claire spoke with a slight smile. “Verily so. My Daughter Vivian and Ashe have been seeing each other for a few months now, I think she does Ashe well, Vi tempers her; keeps her from overdosing on Chems.” Jonathan solemnly spoke. “I read the file on her. It’s simply a miracle she still has her sanity, what she went through as a mere child would have broken any grown man.” “Quite.” North murmured. “But that was long ago, Ashe has good people supporting her now. Now however It’s about time you all get ready.” Jonathan stood first followed by Claire who rose to his feet sluggishly. “Right boss, we’ll hit the armory and make sure we have enough firepower for whatever is thrown our way.” -- “Jonathan, need anything?” “Certainly! I have plans to pick up my shoulder mounted machine gun, and missile launcher.” “Seriously!? You planning on wiping out an army?” “I see why not. 10 mm rounds are plentiful and if we come across something foul indeed, a well placed missile will end it thoroughly.” “Okay. You do that, I prefer weapons with more tact, you know a Dragunov and a old fashioned revolver break action chambered in trusty .357 rounds. Not all of us are built like tanks you know, Mister Mad Titan.” “You two have fun duking it out here, In the meantime I’m sure nothing bad will befall these strangers.” North said snarkily Claire stopped speaking and Jonathan stood still. “Now I trust whatever issues you may have you can put them aside. I do have other Rangers to command.” “Forgive me North, got a little carried away.” Claire said before turning to Jonathan. “Sorry about that, you know. Being rude and all.” “Say no more, our gripes will have to wait for later. But don’t call me Mad Titan again, that’s not who I am anymore. My abilities serve a higher cause than myself.” “No more mushy stuff than?” Claire asked. “But I like mushy stuff. Hugs create camaraderie.” “Coming from you they just create broken bones, that and your Pysker powers tend to give off a different vibe.” North began to walk towards the doorway before he stopped and looked back, it was a big gamble. But Claire needed to fit in with the other Arctic Wolves. He was part of an elite group composed of only seven members, every other Wolf before him has partnered at one time or another. That was how bonds were made, North only hoped that it would all work out in the end. Hours had passed since then. And with Jonathan and Claire both equipped in the traditional Arctic Ranger armors, which long ago were Winterized Riot gear now just covered in a long duster and customized to each ranger’s preference. Claire liked minimal gear, just the standard armor and duster. Jonathan on the other hand had the pauldrons of the T-45d powered armor built into his armor’s shoulder joints, and wore thick furred boots. Belts of 10 mm ammunition hung off his waist, and missiles filled their pack. As they walked through the Vault, the murmurs of it’s residents echoed throughout the halls. “See that. It’s Jonathan the Mad Titan. They say he can grow to the size of a giant.” “Quit being stupid. We all know it’s some mind trick, otherwise how could he walk these halls. He’s one of those Psykers, the ones with strange powers.” “Who's the wimp next to him?” “You mean the guy with the crimson hair? He’s Claire. Got quick fingers and quicker aim they say. Guy could pick your pockets before you knew you had any.” “How’d he become a Ranger?” “Same as anyone. Started over and proved himself.” “He’s young though.” “Hot too.” “Hey quiet all of you. They’re looking this way.” Claire chuckled while Jonathan simply walked on. “There goes the rumor mill again. Right what preference of transportation do you like? Wanna go for something simple like the Horse?” Claire said. “I prefer the Worcas.” Claire raised a brow.”The Wolf, Orca mutant hybrids?” “Yes. They hold my weight, and don’t get spooked easily.” “Alright. Not as fast as a Horse or Northern Stag. But works for me.” The door to the Vault slid open as they entered the security room. One of the guards addressed them. “Good Hunting to you boys.” The two Rangers walked through the entrance and over to the stables ready to set out. [color=00aeef]Chapter 4[/color] One thirty five PM, Anchorage time. A woman with long raven hair and voluptuous curves sat at a desk while she ran her left palm over her face in exhaustion. Reports had come in all throughout the last few days of what was foreign troopers called the NCR, her scouts had hung back and performed reconnaissance collecting as much information as they could without making direct contact. The folder that compiled their findings had already been sent off to the Arctic Rangers at Vault 118. What ever these foreign troops wanted with Alaska it was best that the Rangers confront them first. Her faction the Bush Company had a long history with the Rangers, in fact she herself was a Ranger roughly ten years prior. She had taken the mantle of Madame after the previous one had passed away, and she has not regretted her choice. In fact she felt a sense of pride, solidarity even among the working class girls who strutted about half naked. But sex was not the only service they performed, it was well known that the Bush trained and employed Spies and Assassins to do the dirty work of others. They would of course never accept a contract to kill anyone lawful but everyone else was fair game. Since the arrival of the NCR other factions had begun to move, her greatest fear would be if Zhang forces intercepted these foreign troops and executed them. For they long had held a grudge with all those born on American soil. These former Chinese sleeper agents and Soldiers that evaded capture founded their own settlement in the state’s capital of Juneau. Contact with Stonewall; Juneau’s Major faction of former raiders indicated increased activity on their side. It wouldn’t be long before they made a move she thought. As a knock rapped on her door. “Madame Valmet? It’s Red Rose, may I enter?” Valmet sighed and set down the papers and brushed aside the strands of hair that fell in front of her face. “Enter.” She said showing signs of her fatigue. “Madame, a new report for you. The Vanderbilts have sent agents to investigate the presence of NCR troopers.” Valmet balled her hand into a fist and rested her jaw on top of it. “Just what I need, what could the arrogant and egotistical self proclaimed Mafioso gain by sending out his agents.” Red Rose was about to speak before she was cut off by Valmet. “Perhaps he wishes to expand his influence, yes that might be it.” “Madame, that does seem to be the case. Given his past dealings with other Factions and his rapid expanse over the criminal elements of the region; it is a possible conclusion.” Valmet dropped her head silently into her hand, taking but a moment to think this through. “Madame?” Her head quickly raised and she addressed Miss Rose. ”Radio this information to North, he needs his men to intercept these troopers before Vanderbilt does, there’s no telling what he’d do to get his way. More importantly I am worried about the Zhang. We don’t need any other factions clashing over this.” “Understood Madame.” Red Rose rushed out of the room and headed down to the communications room. As Valmet lounged back in her chair. “Two hundred years. Two hundred years, and nay a peep from the outside world. What will the future bode for us now.” [color=00aeef]Chapter 5[/color] 6:37 PM Cordova time NCR troopers have just reached a lone Cabin out in the woods, that they had cautiously approached. “Ranger Veilmont?” One of the Troopers asked. “Should we move closer, the place looks abandoned?” Matthew Veilmont sat crouched in tall brush alongside the other troopers. He raised a pair of binoculars and eyed the windows. Small windows, glass partially exposed through the boards nailed on the outside. Veilmont thought to himself as he lowered his arm and turned to the others. “We go in, you three.” He said pointing them out. “Move around the left side. The four of you.” He said pointing out four other men. “Go around back, the rest of you with me; we’ll advance slowly.” They crept up towards the Cabin unsure of what to expect. The troopers gave out hand signs giving the all clear. Rangers Veilmont and Samuels breached the door as it opened with no resistance. The other troopers called out. “All clear!!” They began scanning the rooms. Once they had opened every door they gathered in what appeared to be a Living room. “Everything's all clear.” Veimont spoke. Samuels turned to one of the troopers. “Lieutenant Richards! Check this place for supplies, bring Beckard with you just in case you find trouble.” “Yes Sir! Come on Becard, let’s see if there’s anything in the fridge.” One of the troopers spotted something on the table. “Veilmont, Sir! Might want to take a look at this. Seems to be a map.” Veilmont strode over.”Good find Private First Class Harper . Let’s take a look. Hmm, it’s marked. Looks like we’re at this marker. Cabin number three hundred and five. That means there’s a lot of cabins.” While Veilmont looked over the map, Richards and Beckard were in the Kitchen going through the cabinets. “Not much food here Richards, just loads of, homemade beer?” “Wildberry Mead.” Richards said looking at the label. “Yeah all homebrews. They must really like their drinks.” Richards said as he cracked one open taking a whiff of it.”Whew, smells sweet. So wanna bet a shoeshine this is drinkable?” “Ha! I’ll take that bet.” “Well Beckard, here you go, bottoms up.” Beckard held the bottle and prepared himself to take a drink form it. “Let’s hope I don’t get sick.” Richards egged him on as Beckard took a gulp and downed a mouthful of Mead. “Ahh, way too sweet.” “You feeling alright though Beckard?” “Yeah, i guess. So wanna tell the Rangers what we found?” Richards nodded and the two walked back into the main room. “We’re a ways off from any civilization.” Veilmont spoke. “Looks like there’s a small village in Cordova about a day and a half out from here. But these.” He said with his finger on a point on the map. “These are starred, unlike the dots scattered about I assume these mean cities or major settlements.” Richards and Beckard walked on in.”Were back, didn’t find much just Cram, stale chips, and loads of Homebrewed Alcohol.” Ranger Samuels looked over to them. “Well this map has been useful, that radio in the corner not so much. Wires have been chewed on, rodents or the like. For now let’s assume these people have a radio station or two, and see what we can pick up in the morning. Lieutenant Duran, see if you can’t re-wire our radios into the antenna.” “Right away SIr!” She saluted and pulled out a tool kit. Veilmont turned to their Field Medic Jessie Keller and spoke.”Keller, see what medical supplies you can find; pair up if something were to happen.” Keller nodded, and took another trooper with her; while the others began to settle in for the night. Wood was brought in from the pile outside. And if they needed more there was an axe and saw to fell a tree. [color=00aeef]Chapter 6[/color] 7:03 PM Anchorage time. Bush Company Headquarters. Vivian and Ashe were holding each other in an embrace on a metal framed bed with Ashe resting on Vi’s ample bosom. As they finished an old Holodisk scavenged from the Library just blocks away. Vi who was part Caucasian and Yupik as was her father had her hand resting on Ashe’s waist. “Still can’t believe you found one of these old things, I thought almost all of them had been lost to time.” Vi spoke softly over the ending credits of the Holodisk. Ashe the short raven haired girl, who had more scars than cleavage on her athletic body. Lifted her head.”Found it behind a collapsed wall, no one looked behind it because no one could move the wall by themselves.” The light flickered across the wooden walls of the small room devoid of decorations. While Vi sat there staring into Ashe’s eyes for a moment's time. “You dosed up on Chems didn’t you, for that?” Vivian shifted her weight and began to sit upright. “No, for you. But since you’re so ungrateful maybe I won’t bother next time.” Ashe furrowed her brows and her scars wrinkled slightly. “Ashe..” Vi said as she sighed and tried to speak more calmly.”You know that’s not what I meant, I get worried when you dose, I know you can take the toxins but it still scares me. Anyone else but you would probably die.” “I am fine. I’m always fine. Chems don’t work on me like they would you.” “I don’t want you relapsing, I’ve seen what happens when you relapse. You’re just not you, you have an unnatural hunger for chems and it drives you mad.” Ashe snapped her head towards Vi, out of indignation.”I’m not like the others, their blood may run through my veins, unlike them I have my sanity, and my anger. I won’t lose myself before I do what must be done.” Her eyes glanced over to the empty bottles of mead and ale, as she was looking for an excuse to storm off and cool down. “We’re outta Ale, I’ll be back.” “Ashe..” Vivian said as she leaned forward. “I said I’ll be back.” Ashe stood up from the bed, and stormed off slamming the door behind her making her way downstairs from her room, past the moans and squeaking beds for paying customers that were being entertained in private rooms. The hallways were dimly lit giving the wooden walls a warm sensual feel, and the wooden walls have been replaced numerous times over the centuries that almost no one knows where it all came from. Once Ashe rounded the corner into the main lobby where topless women served drinks and women danced on stage over tossed bills. Lights strobed up and down the stage as customers eyed the spectacle that was Rave Mouse, she may not have been as endowed as the other Strippers, or as tall but the rainbow of color that dyed her hair and the piercings that covered her body tantalized and titillated the audience and she gyrated on stage with unnatural movements. Ashe walked past without batting an eye at the scene. She knew Mouse, and although she quite enjoyed the wild dancing on stage it was pure torment on her bones. But that’s not what she was here for a bar overloaded on drunken patrons lay just before her, and a woman with spiked hair worked the bar as Ashe walked up. “Evenin’ Ashe. What can I do you for?” “More drinks Evelyn , maybe some strong ones.” The Bartender eyes her a bit, but then reaches under the counter. While she sets the bottles of alcohol on the counter top. Another patron just farther down is acting like a drunken fool. “Soo I says to the wh***, just get down in the water and we’ll ride your ass across the river.” The few other men all dressed in work garments and one with a workers tool belt, belted out a drunken laugh. “Hey, what? That one of ‘em freaks. Yeah, one of them damned Bloodpack Wh*** Children.” The room fell deathly silent as not a sound was made, Rave Mouse had even stopped dancing on stage. “Even have that.. Wh*** Friend of yours. Yeah what was her…” The man barely spat out the last word as Ashe’s smaller scarred hands had already wrapped around his neck with a speed that stunned the onlookers. Her own inhuman strength lifting him off the floor. One could say in this moment Ashe’s Jade eyes were black as coal from the seething rage. The man’s face turned blue as the life was chocked out of him while he struggled to no avail. Not a single soul intervened nay did anyone move a muscle the Bush’s Enforcer wasn’t one to be angered. She didn't wield a nearly nine pound twin headed spear for show after all. And in the Bush Company disrespect was punished severely, even death was an acceptable form in unique situations such as this. This would be the last time a drop of alcohol touched his lip as his hands fell to his side and his eyes rolled back into his skull. [color=00aeef]Chapter 7[/color] May 4th 5:36 PM Wittier - Vanderbilt City and Gambling Hall; formerly the Buckner Building. Inside the halls of Alaska’s largest city under a single roof a former Military barracks that had all the amenities one could ask for. Indoor pools, Shopping centers, Repair shops, and of course Gambling. The Buckner building was to have everything but most of all it sheltered most of Whittier’s residents during the final hours of the Great War. A nonessential target as the building was merely city property kept in shape through the budget as a Historic building. These halls contained many souls all under the influence of the Vanderbilts, after Jordan Bates the previous President of the Buckner Building had an unfortunate accident. Or so his daughter tells the story. Everyone knew of course that her father was a tyrant, who drank and beat his own wife but never his daughter. He spoiled her, though no baubles could erase her own fear of the man; only herself and Barron Vanderbilt knew what really happened, that Carol fell in love with the hired help and begged the man to murder her own father. Barron who under his own greed and lust for power expanded the operations of Carol’s gangs of thugs and drug runners. Taking the entire city as his territory; greedy as Barron may be his people either love him or fear him, but never without reason. And deep in these halls the sounds of bones breaking and knuckles slamming against flesh resounded through the building. As a large crowd bet and drank watching two men duke it out in a ring under spotlights all who suffer from the strongest bare knuckle brawler disease. A man tall and slim approached a spectator who watched intensly while the current Chap fought it out for everything. The title, his wealth,his home. His raspy voice spoke. “Worried about the Boss are you? Don’t be, just look at him. Although his opponent is a Samoan, one of biggest I’ve seen in fact; Barron is handling him quite well. He adapted his style for accuracy and defense. And that stance of his is like a Hoplite; left arm held out like a shield to deflect blows, right arm poised to strike at a moments notice.” The woman obviously befuddled turned and spoke. “What is a Hoplite, Wraith?” He cursed under his breath. “Smoothskins.” Before speaking in a manner that she could hear.”Before your time, well before your time.” The woman dismissed the Wraith’s ramblings and continued on watching the show with eager anticipation. As Barron ducked under a right strike deflecting it up and off to the side, his own right impacted the Samoan’s jaw sending out a resounding echo of smashing flesh as his head recoiled back and he took a step back regaining his footwork. The Samoan went for a left hook as Barron side-stepped back with his right foot only to have the punch clip his left shoulder sending him off balance as he twirled to the side and the Samoan went in for a uppercut. Barron against the chain fence of the ring shifted his stance to his favored left straight connecting with the Samoan’s face and nose, while his uppercut went through the air. Barron watched as the Samoan fell to the ring floor with a heavy thud. As the crowd stood speechless. They had been at it for six rounds, the farthest anyone has made it thus far. The crowd cheered and broke out into a roar, as Barron walked off the stage and spied a Wraith over to the side of the ring. “Boss. Good fight for a warmup. Should’ve ended it quickly.” A smirk ran across his weary face.”That would be no fun Smithe. And I aim to please my fans. But enough about that, I trust you have news for me so let’s talk elsewhere.” The Wraith nodded as they strolled to Barron’s office. Where Pictures of old lined the walls, and a liquor cabinet filled to the brim. Barron sat in a wooden chair hand engraved and decorative, with a firm but yet comfy cushion. “The boys will make land tonight, they sailed across the channel and as we estimated will reach these visitors before North and his Rangers.” Barron poured a glass of Whiskey into a glass of ice, and offered Smithe a glass. “Good, I’ll be sure to make our guests feel right at home in my stockades. We’ll know our enemy and what riches their lands hold.” “Sure thing boss, so long as they don’t mobilize en mass against us.” “Let me worry about that, once I show North how hostile they can be I’ll make him march off to war.” Barron grinned as the whiskey glass pressed against his lips, the ice clinked as the liquid flowed from the glass.