[u][b]SAC HQ Bunker[/b][/u]

[i]"BE AWARE, SLAVES OF STEEL!" the old woman screeched as she strode forward, heedless of the carnage around her, "SERFS OF A BRAIN IN A JAR! FOR WE CAN KNOW NO FEAR! IT WHAT SLUMBERS UNDER DUNWHICH WILL AWAKE! AND IT SHALL FIND A REALM UNITED IN ITS WORSHIP! I HAVE SPOKEN THE NAME THAT BURNS!"

A laser beam stabbed into her shoulder, causing her to fall, but then she staggered to her feet and began to move forward again.

Now only a couple yards away from the camera, she looked at them and pointed, glaring at the group. "THERE IS NO SALVATION FOR ANY OF YOU! UG-QUALTOTH WILL FEAST ON YOUR SOUL, AND CHEW ON YOUR SPIRIT..." It was then, that suddenly fear appeared on her withered face, and she stopped to scream. "S..souless Abomination..w..what is that thing...."

Stumbling backwards, she began to crawl away. The camera swiveled to where she had been pointing, at the very spot where Brother Kyle, who looked a bit astonished himself, stood, his laser rifle at the ready. The camera swiveled back to the woman and spat out an order, two solders sprung forward, one grabbing her arms so she could not detonate any suicide charge, the other roughly frisking her.

"No bomb, sir", the second solder said, then none too gently picked up the struggling woman, and carried her to the rear, still shrieking nonsense about her "god" and "souless ones".

"Search her more closely, and put a gag on her", the cameraman said coldly, "I don't want to listen to her bullshit all the way back to base." 
[/i]

"Pause, please", Joseph said, and the screen froze with the struggling woman being hauled off by two Knights. He then looked over at the man, in a red tunic, sitting next to him. "What do you think, Vulpes? It's the same woman we saw in the earlier clip....that is confirmed....I'm not sure what to make of it. One minute, she basically commandeers a Raider gang from it's leader, with almost no protest....then she leads them nearly a quarter of a mile into a head-on confrontation with a platoon of Knights without flinching, only to flee from the least well armed and armored man there.". He grabbed the carafe of water from the table between then and refilled his glass, adding in frustration, "I can't stop thinking about it. I know there is something there....but what it is just eludes me!"

They had covered a lot of ground over the past day, intelligence briefings, support requests...what the Inquisition knew about the Cult...there had been much to discuss before Vulpes flew to Indianapolis Airport. Only a few items were left on the agenda, and this was one of the most important ones. Thirty years of experience screamed at him that something was important about this, but he could not see it, no matter hard he tried. Vulpes was the most gifted intelligence operatives he had ever met...he hoped that a new set of eyes would ferret out the truth that was eluding him.  

"The woman?", Joseph replied, "She still lives...the Field unit in Indianapolis is holding her. She's largely her old self again. The Psychologists assure me she is completely, and probably incurably, mad, as most every committed Cult member we've interrogated has been....you'll find her most unpleasant. I'll make the arrangements with Inquisitor Stahl in Indianapolis to transfer her to your custody at your convenience. She'll be a good introduction to the kind of Enemy we face, and perhaps you will spot what I've been missing."

"Lancer-Sergeant Kyle is still in Indianapolis as well", Joseph said, "The Paladin-General's staff is debriefing him, trying to learn what happened in Boston. Spends his free time watching newsreels and films...mostly of our History since the Arrival and the Lord-Paladin himself. I can make arrangements through the Lord-Paladin's office if you would like to interview him as well. He's just as baffled by that woman's behavior as we are."


[u][b]Capital Westeland - Adams AFB - 1:00 AM EDT[/b][/u]

Guided by the IR beacons placed on both sides of the runway, the C-130...running lights off...touched down, executing a perfect 3 point landing in pitch darkness. Slowing as it hurtled down the runway towards the massive wreck of the Satellite Crawler at the other end, it eventually decelerated to taxis speed and followed the marshal's instructions, turning around and stopping at the designated spot, then cutting it's engines. As the rear cargo door began to open, a number of men in black combat armor took up position. Once the ramp was completely open, a tall, elderly, nearly skeletal thin man, visibly armed only with a walking stick that he did not seem to need, and wearing night vision goggles strode down the ramp and approached the leader of the group. 

"You are Captain Geisler, Ja?", the old man asked, using a strange accent, as he nonchalantly transferred his walking stick to his left hand, and extended his right. 

"Yes, sir", Geisler reached out and shook the old man's proffered hand. Commander Jabsco, back at Bannister, had warned him the client was a stickler for protocol and the people he represented were most definitely not people Talon Company wanted to fuck with. "Dr Strasse, I presume?"

"Korrekt, Captain", Strasse said, idly gesturing with his walking stick for the robots waiting at the top of the ranp to proceed. Six Protectrons, all configured as cargo handlers, descended the ramp, each pair carrying a metal footlocker between them, which they placed on the ground next to Strasse in a row. "I am Engineer-General Dr Wilhelm Strasse...you and your men will address me as Doctor, or Dr Strasse rather than by my rank, verstehen sie?"

"Yes, Doctor", Geisler replied, not recognizing the last words, but figuring out the context all the same. "We are at your service, as has been arranged."

"Excellent, Captain", Strasse said as one of the robots opened each lid, revealing all four boxes were completely full of bottle caps. To demonstrate, Strasse inserted the stick into one box, twisting and turning it until it reached the bottom of the box, then withdrew it. "One hundred thousand bottle caps....the boxes weigh precisely 50 pounds empty should you wish to weigh them." He then added, as one of the Protectrons offered Geisler a clip board before waddling off to join it's companions who were beginning to unload the cargo, "This constitutes payment of our contract with Talon Company in full. Sign for receipt where indicated, please....and forward the red copy to your Commander for his records."

[u][b]Fort Gratiot Lighthouse, about thirty minutes before sunset
[/b][/u]

The Republic lookout gazed Northward with their binoculars with astonishment as the largest group of vessels they had ever seen in one place before appeared over the horizon, steaming straight for the mouth of the St Clair at fifteen knots. Soon, the force sailed down the river, ten of the big twin turreted monitors, a swarm of smaller patrol boats, and nearly two dozen freighters of various types and sizes...the six largest, which all looked the same, flew Brotherhood ensigns, most of the rest flew the colors of the various Lakeman clans. 

The officer at the lighthouse broke out the new codebook that had arrived from Windsor just a few hours ago and prepared a encrypted message and sent it off. He estimated that the force would be off Windsor by 11pm....the Republic might surive the next few days after all.

[u][b]
Armored Train "Paladin-General Maximus" - near North Platte, Nebraska[/b][/u]

Barnaky sat and watched the world whip by the window of the passenger car at 120 miles per hours, noting the bumper crop of grain growing with approval, though he had seen it innumerable times before through the sensors of the agricultural robots that helped tend them. It seemed only yesterday that this area was a barren Wasteland, only abandoned farms, cracked earth and dead trees as far as the eye could see. Time, and Brotherhood intervention, had made this place livable again. It reminded him that he had indeed made a difference, and the consolation that his new life was worth what it had cost him. 

Across the table from him, Martin was poring over reports. The Embassy in Santa Fe was reporting that all the major powers had agreed to Caesar's conference, including High Elder Gladstone. The Ambassador in Electric City had notified him that Gladstone had endorsed the Lord-Paladin's Scourge order, and soon the Armies of the Western Brotherhood would be making their way East. Once more, they would stand together against a common foe...gratifying news that bode well for the future. They would need to speak to Caesar about it....if they needed to pass through Khan lands to reach the nearest rail-head at Cheyenne, safe passage would need to be arranged, Caesar's help would be vital in arranging that with the Great Khan.   

An aide brought a new message to him, which he scanned, then went and re-read it slowly. He then looked up at the robot quietly gazing out the window. He pitied the Lord-Paladin, in a way. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for him, confined to a container deep underground in Vault 0. It had been Dr Strasse's idea to adapt the Calculator's control methods to enable him to control a robot...avatar he called it....to enable him to interact with others on a personal level. It seemed to help, though Strasse had been surprised when Barnaky requested that other robot types, such as Assaultrons, be adapted in a similar way to enable him, and the others who had joined him inside the Calculator over the years, to engage in combat. They had found that lag in the satellite feed the Calculator used to expand it's control area made close combat inadvisable, as a proficient foe could exploit it to strike just ahead of the avatar's ability to react. While Barnaky was nonplussed by this, Strasse had a team working on it...with mixed results so far. Martin cleared his throat, then spoke. 

"Sir", Martin said, "We've just received a message from Bunker Gamma. A delegation from the insurgents in New Orleans have arrived in St Louis." 

"Really?", Barnaky replied, checking and noticing that the message had indeed arrived, and been flagged for his attention, so he read it for himself. "So they have....interesting. It seems they are offering us free navigation of the Mississippi....apparently all we need do in exchange is fight their war for them."

"Well, trade with them would be beneficial", Martin replied, "as well as access to the Gulf...something the Keys has denied us for decades."

"And the dissolution of the Keys Republic would drive a stake through the heart of their so-called 'Co-Prosperity Sphere'", Barnaky scoffed. "Seriously, do they know what the history behind that name was? Somehow I don't think so." 

"It would also likely result in the success of the Cult-backed insurgents in Florida", Martin said matter-of-factly, "which would give them a foothold in the South....where we cannot reach them. And if this Pact is not a military alliance aimed at us already, then the Texans, Commonwealth, and Franklin would almost certainly make it so if we back this move.....they fear our power, and helping Secessionists would prove those fears were not without reason. And do we really want to send our Brothers and Sisters to die so the rulers of this 'Southern Liberal Concordat' can drive their slaves in safety, while spouting this 'Every Man a Consul' line they've adopted?"

"So you see the problem we face then, Brother.", Barnaky said with approval. "Our reaction to this will have serious long-term repercussions, that is a incontrovertible fact." He then added, "What do you suggest?"

"Open talks, but don't commit to anything beyond expanding trade ties yet", Martin said, "Use that opening to send in the Inquisition, and perhaps Missionaries, to find out what they aren't telling us, and you take the opportunity to engage in a frank discussion with President Harris on this subject...not to mention their intentions in Oklahoma...in Santa Fe. This also concerns Caesar, as our relations with Texas directly affect him. In my opinion, access to the Gulf now isn't worth making enemies of the Texans permanently given the strategic situation we face. Not to mention, there is more than one way to skin a mole rat....or reach the Gulf."

"I [i]knew[/i] I appointed you to this job for a reason", Barnaky replied. "If this thing could smile, I'd be smiling right now."

"Make it happen, Brother."