[color=00aeef][b]Mahkra Fishpacking, Northeast Commonwealth[/b][/color]


“Secure the entryway.”

“Yes sir.”

The sharp voice of the young Lieutenant cut through the stale air of the old fishpacking plant. His escort, two Enclave troopers in Advanced Combat Armor and a shock trooper in APA, carefully scanned the area as they entered. Forward recon had shown the factory to be abandoned: little to be found left here but rusted machinery and brittle fishbones. Yet this unassuming, and quite dilapidated building which still seemed to reek of fishguts and stale saltwater 200 years after such stenches should have long since dissipated, were where the coordinates they’d been sent had led. Sent by whoever, or whatever, was calling itself ‘The Institute’: the organization which Enclave High Command had formally attempted to contact and offer their terms of amnesty and annexation under their authority as the acting Government of the United States of America. A rare opportunity for anyone outside their citizenry, and an offer which was ultimately non-negotiable. A number of wayward Vaults had been given the same chance in the wake of The Enclave’s recent misfortunes: those that had refused had swiftly learned that the offer was merely a formality. While some had to be dragged kicking and screaming into their ranks, they’d all come eventually. 

From what they’d heard, The Institute was nothing like the usual wasteland rabble that they’d had to contend with, and even more valuable than an unopened control vault in terms of technology and information. Its scientists were supposedly the brightest minds to be found in the post-war world, although there was some question as to whether or not they even existed. Many in The Enclave had assumed that the tales of boogeyman snatching people up in the dead of night in a flash of blue lightning were tales made up by the ignorant. The minds of wastelanders, addled as they were by radiation and degeneracy, were easily taken in by such fantasies. However, the reports were too widespread and too specific to easily ignore. And if rumours of The Institute had reached all the way to the Capital Wasteland then there must be at least a kernel of truth to them. It had certainly been true enough for The Brotherhood of Steel to have sent a large contingent of their forces to investigate at least. The Brotherhood had entered The Commonwealth with enough firepower to seize The Commonwealth and rule it as a fief of their own, however they’d found nothing but death as the end result of their quest. The tactical precision and totality of their forces annihilation implicated The Institute’s involvement in some way, although accounts did vary. Truthfully, High Command had its doubts that an ostensibly non-militaristic group would have the necessary strength to destroy such a strong Brotherhood force so completely, but if the scientists had indeed had a hand in The Brotherhood’s downfall, it was quite possible that they might be amenable to The Enclave’s offer considering their own past with the organization. The enemy of my enemy after all…..even if they had no intention of this being an equitable partnership. The Enclave didn’t make alliances….it absorbed those that were useful and, in their eyes, pure. Everyone else was an obstacle in their path to reclaim their nation from the filth that had stolen it from them. 

Lieutenant Wayne had been tasked with a small force consisting of a single verti-assault squad to investigate the coordinates. The Enclave’s military presence on the East Coast had all but vanished, and so they’d been forced to hop from abandoned outpost to abandoned outpost in order to make the trip to The Commonwealth, scavenging what supplies they could along the way. Still, they prospect that The Institute might be willing to agree to their direct ultimatum was reason enough to make the trip. Their steady decline since the time of Richardson meant they were short of manpower and resources, and The Institute could very well serve as a latchkey to reclaiming their former glory. 

The APA trooper stepped forward, scanning the darkness closely as they became to delve into the old fish plant. Lt. Wayne and the two grunts followed closely behind, their weapons drawn and at the ready.

“Lieutenant,” The APA trooper said suddenly, his voice distorted by the power helmet as he pointed towards a set of ancient packing equipment,

“Someone’s been here. Machinery looks like its been in operation recently.” 

He was right. Recent repairs had clearly been made to the machinery: some of the parts appeared brand new and there was even fresh oil dripping from one of the panels. Something virtually impossible in a 200 year old factory that hadn’t been in use since before the bombs dropped. 

“A sign we’re in the right place perhaps….” The Lieutenant replied, “Keep moving forward. Head down those stairs.”
 
A set of concrete descended to a lower part of the factory. The space directly at the foot of the stairs appeared to open up, but the darkness made it difficult to see what exactly was there. It appeared to be their only route forward however, and so the troopers advanced. 

The lights from the shock trooper’s helmet illuminated the path as they moved foward, however as they grew close to the bottom. It became increasingly apparent that they were not the only source of light. The bottom of the stairs, they could now see, led to a large utility hallway, and halfway down it there appeared to be a single solitary room emanating a soft white glow. 

Cautiously, the Enclave squad made their way towards it. When they stepped into the light of the doorway, a curious sight greeted them,

“Welcome.”

A solitary woman in a white uniform sat directly across from them, seated at a table surrounded by several chairs. The furniture was in stark contrast with the dilapidated surroundings they found themselves in, and looked as if it’d come from another world entirely. Bottles of water stamped with some sort of strange symbol were clustered to the side on a serving tray. 

Lieutenant Wayne blinked several times and stared with mouth slightly agape, confused by the surreal situation he found himself in. He swiftly regained his composure however, and proceeded forward,

“Lieutenant Eli Wayne,” He said sharply, “I assume I have the pleasure of speaking to a representative of The Institute?”

“You do indeed. Please sit Lieutenant.”

Wayne took off his officers cap and sat down in one of the contoured chairs, he eyed one of the bottles of water suspiciously but did not reach for it.

“Refreshment?”

“No that won’t be necessary,” He replied shaking his head. In truth he was quite thirsty, but he’d no intention of taking anything offered to him by an unknown party.

“I’ll be blunt ma’am, we’ve already made our offer of amnesty and re-unification to the United States to your superiors and have yet to receive an official response to the terms. I can only assume that by sending us these coordinates you wished to meet with us to discuss the terms further. Perhaps to finalize the offer? High Command would be quite pleased if I was able to return to them with news of your acceptance.” 

“Quit the opposite Lieutenant, I’ve been tasked by The Directorate to inform you of their absolute refusal. The Institute does not recognize The U.S. Government’s authority in any capacity, not the least of which regarding our sovereignty. Your claims are firmly denied.”

Wayne scrunched his face in displeasure,

“I see, so then you’ve led us here on a wild goose chase, intending nothing more than to mock us? Is that it? Or did you think that by informing us in person that somehow you were doing us an honor? Well I can assure you that is not the case. On the contrary, my superiors will consider it an insult and take that into account when deciding how best to proceed with our next course of action.”

“No, the SRB wished to meet with you for another reason. Your organization intrigues them, and they followed your progress in the D.C. region with great interest. However, information on The Enclave is scant. More data is required. You will all prove to be quite useful in that regard.”

Wayne stood up, and hovered his hand over his plasma pistol. The APA trooper and two guards next to him likewise appeared on edge, the shock trooper stepping forward with heavy footfalls towards the seated woman,

“I don’t appreciate your tone. Think about your next words very, very carefully. They could very well mean your life.”

“My life is inconsequential Lieutenant,” The woman replied, “If you wish to shoot me, I have no recourse to stop you. However, nothing will be solved by you doing so. The loss of a single Synth is hardly meaningful.”

“Synth? What in the hell are you talking about?”

The woman smiled warmly,

“You’ll know soon enough.”

The sounds of a dozen or more stealth fields disengaging filled the room, Coursers surrounded The Enclave forces and began opening fire. Countless flashes of blue light filled the hallway beyond, as Gen-1 and Gen-2 units came streaming in from the doorway. Lieutenant Wayne grabbed his plasma pistol and fired a bolt at the woman, striking her and sending the Synth sprawling to the ground as the hot plasma burned into her chest. 

The APA trooper bashed Synths aside left and right with the easy and strength that his power armor afforded him. However, Gen-1’s latched onto him like insects swarming a piece of meat blocking and restricting his view and access to his weapon. One of the Coursers strode up and attached a device to the APA, and quickly activated it. An intense electrical pulse coursed throughout the power armor and the APA trooper yelled out in blind fury and pain before the systems of his suit began to fail catastrophically. 

Lt. Wayne and the other two troopers had fallen back to another corner of the room. Blasting away at any Synths that attempted to go near them. However with the APA trooper down, the attention of the Synths now turned firmly to them, and the two combat troopers were swiftly cut down in a hail of blue laser fire. Lt. Wayne raised his plasma pistol to his head, and prepared to fire,

“God bless The Enclave.” He yelled out. 

A blast of blue laser shot away his pistol and sent it careening against the wall. The Courser who fired the shot approached the Lieutenant, grabbed him and lifted him up with little effort. 

“A9-45. Mission complete. Ready to relay back with subject of interest.” 

“Idiots,” The Lieutenant said with stoic defiance, “Do you think the Remnants of the United States trains its officers to be cowards? You won't get anything out of me.”

“We won’t need to.” The Courser replied simply as a flash of blue light engulfed them.