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[right][hr][color=white][b][b]Smith's Rest | HQ Tram Station[/b][/b][/color]
January 16th, 2677[hr][/right]
[indent][indent][indent]Demetrius stood near the back of the group, his shoulders hunched and his head held low. The strap over his chest was digging uncomfortably into his skin, weighed down by the heavy bag resting around his lower back. One of his headphones had been brushed to the side so he could at least hear what was going on around him, though Solon obviously wasn't paying all that much attention. His eyes were down on his boots, tracing over their many flaws: stains in the dark leather, a patched over hole or two, a clump of some unknown material still stuck on the bottom that refused to be washed off. They'd seen better days, that much was certain.

[color=cdaf95][i]'Guess we all have, though.'[/i][/color] He silently mused. [color=cdaf95][i]'Some more than others.'[/i][/color]

The voice of his new XO briefly drew Demi's attention back to the moment at hand, answering some question or other by another pilot. An explanation of what, precisely, New Anchorage was meant to be. A coalition of independent settlements was a novel concept. Not a unique one, he knew, but one that didn't tend to last all that long. Small communes could survive on their own fairly well by ducking under the radar of raiders, but they were little more than agrarian survivalist colonies. True settlements of any kind of size had to rely on corporations for trade and security- standing alone they'd either starve or get bulldozed over by marauders, or any of the other, innumerable threats that roamed the Wastelands.

He [i]had[/i] heard stories of burgeoning micro-nations, however, in places like Afrika and Asia, where there was such a vast landmass that states could survive without making contact with corporations for decades. When they did make contact, though...they didn't tend to last a whole lot longer.

Clearing his throat, Demi spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of his desire to remain unnoticed. [color=cdaf95]"What do ya mean by 'key threats?' Last I checked there was nothin' but snow and trees out here 'till ya hit the horizon."[/color]

His first thought was irradiated wildlife, or maybe a cabal of raiders or two. But that didn't quite line up with the facts. Anchorage had hired out at least six new NC pilots. That was a ridiculous amount of firepower by any standard, enough to go toe to toe with all but a professional military force. Graham mentioned that they'd been surviving by the 'skin of their teeth' before, so [i]something[/i] prompted them to invest so heavily into security. Demi didn't know much about this commander, but he didn't look like the kinda idiot to waste resources.

[color=cdaf95][i]'Just what the hell's out here that could spook these guys so bad?'[/i][/color]
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