[center][h1][color=ac00e6]Khaliya, The Swordwind[/color][/h1]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ff/f4/56/fff456a35e475ce133dc741789e686e0.jpg[/img]
[b][u]December 3rd, 2286
The Bunker[/u][/b][/center]

The war table lay before her, holographic buildings raised from the screen in a simulacra of the city beyond. Numerous angry lights blinked across between, above and inside in some places. Two years of survival was right there mapped out before her. It was more than that to her though, and to the people she had brought with her into this hellscape. Information. The one thing that decided the fate of expeditions like this, and what she had right there in her hands now. Armann had provided her with plenty as they agreed. Soviets holding not just the block the Consulate sat upon, but several other key strategic points between there and a listing destroyer at the waterfront. Attrition had worn them from what he posited was a couple thousand before the war to perhaps a couple hundred, but it was still far more than his meager squad could handle on their own, and more than her own group could handle.

Another serious threat presented itself to them in the form of what he had referred to as "Gargoyles". First she had thought it to simply be a winged deathclaw, but it seemed to be so much more than that. The creature appeared to be native to the Necropolis, and specifically the southern regions as Armann and his squad observed during patrols. Rarely did they approach the wall or range this far north at all, but a few roaming packs of feral ghouls had wandered this way and with the sounds of combat they were drawn to fresher prey. Taking shelter inside the bunker would keep them out of their claws for a while, but it was clear they would be a persistent threat.

Farther south and nestled against The Mangle was the more expected of the city. Supermutants, and in their hundreds. Their first few patrols that close to the former high-rise districts had been cautious and wide-ranging as the colonies of the supermutants seemed to spread all around the western flanks of the city. Of course, it was assumed they hunted beyond that region, and Armann had put down a few markers close to the waterfront where it was thought they encountered resistance.

Yet the one singular presence in the city which had seemed to surprise him most of all was the scattering noted by simple black E's across the entire city. [i]Enclave[/i]. Not even Maxson was as foolish as to believe the Enclave had truly been defeated, understanding that the remnants after Adam's Air Force Base had likely scattered and regrouped at other bases. Though Armann pointed out what looked to be dozens of patrols at key points, there were few points of confirmed conflict.

"We have somewhat of an understanding." He explained, looking entirely unsatisfied with the mere utterance of the phrase. As he told it, they first encountered the Enclave in the city mere weeks into their mission, and as expected shot first. The very brief contact left those in black down a man, and his squad on the run as reinforcements began to route on them. A few days later they had run into another patrol, and though the air was tense, the commander gave them a clear signal.

[i]"Do not interfere, and we will not fire. We will not pursue."[/i]

Since then the squad had given them a wide berth, avoiding where they saw the patrols and marking fortified areas. A warehouse here, former checkpoint there, and it was clear that the Enclave was not only active in the city but engaged in a losing battle to contain and remove threats. Neither of them could really agree on how to look at that, Armann seeing it as a sort of fitting end to their organization that they be stuck in the ruins of this city in a never-ending war. She had disagreed with him, but didn't press the matter. If he couldn't see that the best ally they may have in this hellscape was a former enemy, then she would have to work to convince him at a time when she didn't need his cooperation as well.

"Well, let's see what you have on these people."

At his request she brought up the first of the files. Two names came up on the table as the cityscape disappeared and were replaced with what looked to be long-distance recon photos.

[color=ac00e6]"Monika Weiss and Bailey De Lara, both from the Commonwealth and affiliated with a group known as the Gunners."[/color] A lie, and a bold one at that. Jeremiah had enough wits about him to get the hint that there was more to Bailey than she let on, but if Armann knew, then it would merely embolden the men into an action that would remove important skills and firepower from their group. [color=ac00e6]"From what my source was able to gather, the former has been a native of the former Boston area for some years, after fleeing from the West."[/color]

"NCR that bad out there?" Armann scoffed, unaware of some of the more recent trends in the region.

[color=ac00e6]"Caesar's Legion, actually. Recent intel from out west has made us aware of a significant raider group that has rallied together under the banner of the bull and scorched hundreds of miles. This Monika managed to escape slavery at their hands and once here on the East coast made a new life for herself. She's noted as being a skilled combatant in mid to close quarters, and a decent enough shot at that."[/color]

"Anyone can read off assessments, and merc groups like these 'Gunners' are notorious for puffing out their chests and boasting."

Khaliya shrugged, indifferent to his dismissal as she knew that he cared about as much for the varied mercenaries of the wasteland as he did for her. Which was at last assessment, very little. What he had concerned himself to though, was the character of the individual, so she switched track and shifted to the next page of her files on both women.

[color=ac00e6]"Well, unlike the former Talon Company, this group isn't quite as malicious and has on several occasions actually defended settlements from raiders. They've got their bad seeds for sure, but these two from what information I can gather, are not among them. Neither is particularly trusting, but they've got solid morals and can be relied upon."[/color]

At this he nodded, seeming content enough with the first of their group. A few more names, more slides of page after page of tediously crafted information to present as ideal a case as possible to what she knew would be a hard sell. Three of their number who had been raiders before now presented as outcasts from an outfit down to the south. Doctor with severe addictions to med-x and psycho? She told the tale of a man tortured in The Pitt and forced to sew up his tormentors. Each one she wove a sweet lie that had just enough truth to it that just that one glancing look was enough to confirm what she told.

[color=ac00e6]"John Delaware."[/color] She presented this member of their group on his own, reams of data pooling around the image at the center. Years of information meticulously gathered and put together to present the profile of a detective seemingly hand-picked for the job. [color=ac00e6]"Also from the Commonwealth like De Lara and Weiss, though he's a little more low-profile. His name isn't quite as out there as Valentine, but not for lack of skill or experience."[/color]

Armann stared at the profile before him, hands pressed against the edge of the table as his grey eyes narrowed. There was a lot there, detailed reports of investigations closed, encounters in various settlements, first-hand descriptions and more. In fact, there was an almost absurd amount of detail presented, and as he looked it over Khaliya could see already that he had taken in enough to have an idea of the man. "And your opinion on him? Seems as if you two have worked together before."

[color=ac00e6]"We have, several times."[/color] She said without hesitation, hand moving across the screen to present a pair of heavily doctored picts showing herself and the investigator in the field. [color=ac00e6]"As you may have heard, a group calling itself The Institute has long plagued the Commonwealth to the north, and Delaware has a bit of a specialty in dealing with cases involving them. As part of a nominal expedition to the Commonwealth in '83 I was tasked with getting a more… On the ground perspective of the region. My first step was looking into the local myths, major settlements and active factions if any. From my subtle questioning, I was led to John Delaware as an expert of sorts dealing with the mysteries of the Institute."[/color]

[color=ac00e6]"He's got the skills to find people and things, no matter where they've gone, so it's no surprise that he was selected for this mission by the Pariah. Don't let the brooding fool you though, I can assure you that the man has morals. John is many things, but he's not a killer."[/color] She took a moment to skip through the last few of their group, passing over Prism as they both knew of her quite well, and some other rather familiar faces. At last there was merely the Legionnaire whose presence was undeniable and distinct. Here at least she was thankful that the distance between here and the Legion was great enough that Armann had to rely on what information she had.

"This one, he's from that Caesar's Legion? Why should we allow him to remain in the bunker and not order him to march into the rain without a suit?"

That was an excellent question, and had he not been selected as the others had been, then she would had agreed with him. Yet there was a purpose for him being among the group, just like there was for everyone else and she needed to come up with something and quick. [color=ac00e6]"He [i]was[/i], in all fairness."[/color] Khaliya began, scrolling through the files and coming up with the most recent entry. [color=ac00e6]"My informant does say that he's not quite like the others, however. While most of his group tend to be little more than better disciplined raiders, Servius appears to actually believe in the goal of the Legion."[/color]

"What? To burn the wasteland and establish a raider's paradise?"

[color=ac00e6]"No, actually. The Legion is ruthless yes, and oftentimes burns entire settlements to the ground to make a point, as well as takes and trades in slaves, but there's a [i]method[/i] to them. Life for their people can be argued to be better than that within the NCR or out in the wastes, and they are quite efficient at what they do. At the very least, they don't suffer from the same rampant corruption within the many attempts at revived democracy, and can actually maintain a state. For how long, that can't really be said as it [i]is[/i] a cult of sorts centered around their leader, and tends to frown upon the active cultivation of knowledge and a reliance of technology."[/color]

[color=ac00e6]"This Servius though, he's got a wit about him that marks him as unique among the group. My informant… She mentioned that she has seen in him a remarkable strength of character, an unwillingness to stoop to the same depravities as the rest of his kind, and a true desire to rise above. Such is why, when Caesar died and the Legion faltered, he went east at her insistence and was to make a better life for himself here on the East Coast."[/color]

Silence followed as she ended the display, withdrawing the cable connecting her to the table and letting the holoscape of the city crackle back into place. Icons rotated here and there, a green glow illuminating Armann's face as he thought on all that she had spoken of. At last it was time to end the briefing and a solemn nod communicated as much. Both walked quietly back towards the main room, where she could smell food cooking, a scent that seemed bereft of the innate radiation soaking the city beyond and perhaps even actually filling. Just within sight of the others though, near where Servius and Monika had been about to face off, he stopped.

"How is it that your informant was able to get this far east and convey that information to you, if that group is as much as you say?"

For a moment, Khaliya considered the group before her. While they had been briefing each other and getting up to speed, already they all seemed to be mingling and getting along for the most part. All except the obvious outliers, but even they seemed to be tolerating things at least. It was as she was hoping, a bit of shelter and hot food able to cool the tensions that were innate in a mixed group as theirs, and sure to flare before long. At least with this moment, they could soothe such things before they became an issue.

[color=ac00e6]"He saved her from them, and in return she swore to save him."[/color]

[hr]
Remaining quiet as a few others had done, one in particular took a keen interest in the more prominent members of the group. Her eyes settled first on the paladin lurking in the corner who looked as if ready to intervene in case of [i]any[/i] altercation that may arise. It could easily be assumed that not only could the man do so easily, but it would not be hard to guess whose side he would be swinging for. As she undressed from the hazmat suit and the red talons across her black combat fatigues were brazenly displayed for all, she saw the tilt of his helm towards her and her singular compatriot left. Most certainly it would not be either of them, bad blood still lingered despite 2279 and their ultimatum. How it would have pleased her on any other day to stick one of her knives between the joints of his armor and watch as he bled to death inside, but there was a mission of critical importance.

That mission even now was in danger, not just by the threats beyond the walls of the bunker, but by the ones who had been called to participate. The demolitions expert, one of her own, very nearly got himself and the entire group killed before they even stepped foot on the streets of the city, and the paladin with them had a mission of his own to end a war that had been decided for almost a decade. Speaking of which, there was a woman nearby who caught her attention. Sitting apart from the rest, purposefully so even, was Bailey. [i]"Shit."[/i] Her first thought as she caught the looks she was giving the rest of the group, especially the Brotherhood. One of them was giving a rather deadly stare in return, Jeremiah. He was going to be an issue before long, and she much preferred that it was dealt with as diplomatically as possible. That would be a discussion with their team-leaders, but for now she had to do what she swore not to before things got out of hand.

Prism steadily made her way over to where Bailey sat on the floor, dropping her hazmat suit to her side opposite the woman and kneeling down with her rucksack. While her hands moved as if to strip her pistol and clean, her eyes focused forward at the brick and her lips barely moved.

"Ares 4-1-H."

Before Bailey could react to her codename spoken aloud, even under her breath in a whisper, a hand slipped from the slide of the pistol before her in a clear sign not to. All around them the others seemed too engrossed in the smell and sound of cooking, perhaps the first hot meal in a long time for many, and from what she could see at least it seemed to be a damn fine one. There were those who were too good at what they did to risk it though, of particular the detective, the legionnaire and the paladins.

"P-6-T. A proper greeting can wait, you need to sheathe your talons. In five you will be requested to suit up and take watch above. Accept the request, I will brief you in thirty on the roof. Once we have the package, P-4-E will make contact and relay orders from Titan. Until then, we are under protocol Falling Leaves, so do play nice and stop thinking what I know you're thinking."

And without another word or even a glance at her, Prism stood and headed over to where Finn and the others had gathered, her bag still on the floor.