[u][b]Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel - Brother Martin Wilson[/b][/u]

[u]15,000 feet above Northern Arizona[/u]

Far above the Grand Canyon flew a jet black Pre-War airliner, one of the small "puddle-jumper" types used in happier days fo flights between regional hubs. On it's tail and wings were the insignia of the Brotherhood of Steel, painted in blue marking it as that of the Midwestern Order. The aircraft was flying West, in the distant horizon the glow of the lights of New Vegas were just starting to become visible. Inside, in a cabin in the rear, two men kneeled on one knee before a humanoid robot, seated in a chair and wearing a seat belt. It was smaller than the typical humanoid robot the Order had inherited from the Calculator, only slightly larger than a average adult.  


"The latest word", Barnaky's gruff voice emanated from the seated robot, "is that Kimball's Vertibird left NCR airspace two hours ago. He should be there when you arrive....if not, report immediately."

"Yes, My Lord", said the two men in unison. Both were elderly, in thier late fifties or early sixties, in simple black robes. "Should we return if that is the case?". 

"Only if the conference does not go forward without him", Barnaky replied, "House has too much to lose for you to be in actual danger there, no matter what Kimball chooses to do, and I need to know what support we can expect from the others regarding the Cult. Hopefully the Atom Cultists will be willing to share what they know about them."

"We will seek an audience with them, My Lord", the elder of the two said, a tall, guant man with a distinguished air. "But given the confirmed accounts of them deploying atomic weapons against their enemies, I cannot recommend you grant them toleration in Order lands."

"Your objection is noted, Brother Joshua", Barnaky retorted. "Their faith...if you can call it that...is ridiculous, but those same reports indicate they are mostly harmless if not persecuted, and they hate the Cult even worse than we do." He then added, "In any case, if I'm wrong, I know I can rely upon you, my Inquisitor-General, to deal with them appropriately." 

"Yes, My Lord", Brother Joshua replied. "We shall do as you command." 

"Steel be with you", Barnaky concluded, "Closing connection". 

With the link to the robot closed, the robot froze, then a moment later spoke in an entirely different and mechanical voice. 

"Your orders, please, My Lords", the robot intoned obsequiously. 

"Enter hibernation mode", the younger man said as he rose back to his feet. He then turned to look at Brother Joseph, who had also stood. 

"Why do you keep questioning him about the Children of Atom?", he asked. "Their cult has not even spread out this far yet"

"Because it's my job to ask questions, old friend", Joseph said, "As it is yours to win us allies." He took a seat and continued. "The Children of Atom are dangerous, Martin, even if they do have potential value as allies, it is my duty to remind him of that."

The cabin PA crackled into life

"My Lords, Brothers and Sisters", announced the pilot. "We are beginning our descent to McCarran field. Please take your seats and fasten your seat-belts."

As Martin took a seat next to Brother Joseph, Joseph slapped his college on the back in a friendly manner.

"Into the snake-pit we go, old friend", he said with a wink. 

[u][b]Arrival Terminal - McCarran Field[/b][/u]

The Nevada heat hit Martin like a wall as he stepped out of the open door of the air-conditioned aircraft and descended the stairs towards a Securitron waiting below, Joseph and their aides, and the robot behind him, carrying Martin and Joseph's suitcases. As Secretary-General of State, he was in charge of the Mission, with Joseph, his equal in rank as the Inquisitor-General being in an advisory role. 

Stepping off the stairs, Martin approached the Securitron, which had a cartoon image of a pre-war policeman on it's view screen. 

"Secretary-General for State of the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel", the Securitron said, reciting his title. "Welcome to New Vegas. How do you prefer to be addressed, sir?"

"Brother Martin will do", Martin replied calmly. "with party of three and one robot."

"Very well....Brother Martin", the securitron replied. "Please be advised, by order of Mr House your robot is subject to search for weapons and is to be confined to your assigned suite unless otherwise authorized."

"That is acceptable to me", Martin said, "Have reservations for the Aircrew at Vault 21 been arranged?"

"Affirmative", the securitron intoned.  

As the robot was led away for security checks, Martin and the others entered the terminal and made their way to the monorail, and the short trip to the Strip. Disembarking from the monorail, they made their way past the milling crowd, Joseph shaking his head sadly at the spectacle of tourists plopping coin after coin into the slot machines even here. exiting the monorail station, they entered the Strip, ablaze with lights. 

Martin conceded it was a truly impressive sight,  in a few short years House had turned this city into something resembling the old pre-war images of the "Sin city" of the Old World. Striding beside him towards the Ultra-Luxe, the aides several steps behind, Joseph leaned towards Martin and quietly said something that made Martin wonder if he could read his mind. 

"Look at this", Joseph said, "How can the NCR let it's people throw away their money like this? House is sucking them dry, can they not see this in Shady Sands?"

"They certainly don't have their priorities straight", Martin grimly agreed, "but then we knew that five years ago, didn't we?" 

"Yes", Joseph replied with a chuckle, "and they appear to have learned nothing since then."

Walking past a massive water fountain, which a securitron was vainly trying to order a half-dozen people stripped to their underwear playing in it out of, the party made their way to the door of the imposing edifice. A shocking waste of resources...but it was not their problem nor their place to make a fuss about. 

Entering the Ultra-Luxe, he was grateful for the cool blast of air that hit him, eliminating the oppressive heat outside. the four checking in their 10mm pistols at the coat check, the aides made their way to prepare their rooms while Martin and Joseph strolled about the casino floor. The luxury here was a stark contrast to what they were used to, even senior Order leadership such as themselves...it would take some getting used to. 

Arriving at the Gourmand, a waiter led them inside, as their arrival was announced. 

"His Excellency, Brother Martin, the Secretary-General of the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel, and party."

Looking around as they were ushered to their seat, Martin noticed a group of delegates he did not recognize (the Key Republic?), then saw that Caesar Lucius, accompanied by Vulpes, was already present and seated. He nodded respectfully to Lucius to acknowledge him. He also saw President Kimball was present, currently speaking animatedly to a man in brown robes that he did not recognize, who he suspected might be from the Children of Atom. Also seated was the Van Graffs, Gloria, Jean-Baptiste, and their father were present, to Martin's mild surprise. He did not expect that their entire leadership would be present. He nodded to them as well. Sitting alone, he spotted a man in the garb of a Brotherhood Elder...most likely the new High Elder, Gladstone. He nodded in recognition, curious if there would be a reply....he knew they wee still angry with the Lord Paladin even after nearly a century. 

Then he saw them, and one side of his mouth momentarily curled in distaste before his self control assumed itself and he regained a blank impassive expression. 

"[i]So the Cult arrived after all[/i]", Martin thought darkly to himself. "[i]Putting your best face on for those who know not yet what you really are....[/i]"

Martin and Joseph took their seats, each requesting a glass of water, calmly waiting to see what occurred next.