[color=00aeef][u][b]Dr. Xavier Blackhall - The Pitt, Abandoned Supply Plant[/b][/u][/color] A flash of bright blue within the derelict confines of the Supply Plant brought Xavier to The Pitt. Dressed head to toe in a full Institute environmental suit, the young SRB agent stepped out into what he could only describe as a vision of nightmare. He had been forewarned by Ayo that things would be bad in The Pitt, but this was another level of horror entirely. Polluted smoke snaked out of cracks in the rusted piping above him, and the metal floor of the plant was covered in two-hundred years of detritus and debris. A rancid odor hung in the air - unknown industrial pollutants mixing with the stench of death and decay creating a foulness entirely impossible to adequately describe. It permeated even the advanced filter on his suit - he very nearly wretched then and there. Xavier was still rooted in shock as more flashes of blue crackled behind him. Several Gen-1 Synths relayed in, laser pistols raised, as they fanned out to surround the SRB agent in a protective perimeter. “Warning, detecting high levels of contamination in the area. Exercise extreme caution.” One of them droned. “Begin extensive decontamination procedures. First priority is to set up an airtight cleanroom,” Xavier ordered, his voice choking with revulsion, “This is completely unsanitary. Am I really expected to stay here?” As he stepped forward to get a better look at the surrounding area, he was startled by a bestial hiss followed by a loud crash as a strange pale humanoid creature jumped down from the metal gangplank above him. The Trog screeched and charged, and his Synths responded immediately to the aggression: firing a volley of blue bolts into the mutant until it was charred black by the laser fire. “And I suppose an extermination in order as well….” Xavier added with disgust. [hr] It took almost two full days to make the basement of the Supply Plant livable according to Xavier’s standards. An extensive cleanroom had been set up within the area immediately surrounding the molecular relay with a series of airtight chambers built out of prefabricated materials forming a barrier of metal and plastic between him and the industrial hell beyond. Within this prefab structure, Xavier had requisitioned a desk, chairs, a bed, and various other amenities from The Institute all of which had been approved by Director Ayo. He’d also submitted a formal request, in triplicate, for a Courser bodyguard to be assigned to his person but due to ‘military constraints’ that had been denied. However, SRB had seen fit to give him a couple armored Gen-2 troopers, which was at least some consolation. With the cleanroom setup, Xavier had finally been able to sit around without wearing his environmental suit 24/7 and opted instead for his black and white SRB lab coat. As he sat at his terminal eating a nutritional supplement bar, he once more reread his mission parameters as laid down by Ayo. It was simple enough: he was to report on any developments of note to Ayo and act as an informal diplomat and liaison between The Pitt and The Institute. Xavier had been loath to accept the position, but as it had come packaged with a substantial promotion and, in turn, larger living quarters with The Institute Concourse - he’d been persuaded to accept it. He and his wife, Sarah, were expecting their first child, and neither of them had been looking forward to raising a family within their small single-bedroom quarters. Xavier’s work here would give them a larger than average family apartment overlooking the Bioscience wing of the concourse. He also couldn’t disagree with Ayo’s reasoning behind his appointment. He had no real field experience, true, but Xavier had been a foremost authority on surface intelligence operations in the past. He brokered many a shadowy deal, directly and indirectly, with raider groups in The Commonwealth via Synth operatives. He’d also had at least some dealing with The Pitt previously, having become acutely aware of their extensive network of vassal raider gangs they’d acquired through trade in weapons and armaments. Their influence snaked through many of the east coast raider gangs, so much so that even some minor ones near The Commonwealth had sworn tributary fealty to ‘Ashur’s Army’. But Xavier suspected there was another reason for Ayo’s choice. Ever since they’d been acquired by Director Nathan, the ex-Brotherhood members of The Institute had handled much of the direct surface operations. Xavier surmised that his appointment here was likely a play by Ayo to try and bring some of that experience back into the direct fold of the SRB itself. It made sense, and was just the sort of inter-division play that Ayo had become famous, or infamous, for within The Institute. There were also some unsightly rumours about an ex-Brotherhood Scribe named Abaddon within The Pitt that inflamed the hatred of Lyon’s former chapter - and so it seemed wise to keep them at an arm’s length from dealings here. Any cause for unnecessary tension between the two groups was to be minimized. All that being said though, it didn’t make him any less homesick. Despite being technically only a short relay away - he was already wishing to be back home in The Institute. He hated the surface, and seeing The Pitt firsthand had just confirmed something he’d always known: the wasteland was a nightmare. He was halfway into his supplement bar when one of his Gen-2 sentries suddenly droned out a warning, “Sir, lifesigns approaching. Armed soldiers.” Curious, Xavier stood up from his terminal and walked over to the cleanroom entrance. The sealed door opened and in stepped several heavily armored Pitt soldiers in their trademark industrial gear. He knew right away from SRB Intelligence reports that they were members of the Haven Guard - Queen Ashur’s bodyguards. “Lady Marie requests your presence.” The lead Haven Guardsmen said, the raspy echoing out from his helmet sounded almost hollow and remote. “Of course,” Xavier replied, giving a confident nod as he adjusted his round glasses, “I will be there as soon as I can.” He then grimaced as he looked at the shoes of the soldiers and saw the tracks of rust and soot that their boots had left on the sterile white floors of his pristine cleanroom. “We are to escort you through the tunnels to Haven,” The guardsmen added, “It will be quicker.” “The Utility Tunnels?” Xavier gulped, “Aren’t there more of those - [i]things[/i]- down there?” “As I said….will will escort you.” The Haven Guardsmen replied sternly as he brandished his weapon. “Ah of course,” Xavier nodded nervously, “Well I’m…sure there’s nothing to fear then.” Xavier realized that a life lived in safety and security within The Institute seemed like a veritable heaven in comparison to this…city…if one could even use that word. “Hell” seemed a more appropriate one. He wanted to go home. [hr] [color=9e0039][u][b]O-Dog, The Cleveland Bulwark[/b][/u][/color] “GODDAMNIT WE HAVE TO GET HER OUT OF THERE!” O-Dog barked as he slammed his fist down on the table in front of him. The tiny war-council seated before him consisted of himself, the Luthine Prince Jon De Blay, and a small smattering of minor officers from The Pitt and Luth. All of them wore grim faces in spite of their recent victory. After a long pause, Jon De Blay was the first to speak, “Aye, but how? We both know that blue mutant fuck is just waiting to spring another trap. We - I - almost fell for the first one.” “I don’t care,” O-Dog growled, “ Vikia has been here since the beginning. She’s one of Ashur’s original crew - MY crew. I’m not going to just sit here on my ass while she’s tortured to death like a fucking slave. “So we charge - we break their lines and break the siege,” Jon smirked, “Its the only way to get her out. And if its a trap, then we spring it - and we smash whatever comes our way.” O-Dog clenched his fists, he desperately wanted to agree to Jon’s idea. He WANTED to charge the line right here and now. He wanted to save Vikia and kill every blue mutant fucker up there, but he knew he couldn’t. His first duty was to Lady Marie and The Pitt - Cleveland was worth more than the lives of ten-thousand raiders. “No,” He relented, “We can’t. We have to hold our position. If our line breaks then Cleveland is fucked. I can’t risk it.” “What about a night attack? A few good raiders sneak in, and we give them cover,” One of the Pitt officers offered up, “They get her out before the mutants have a clue what hit them.” Everyone looked to O-Dog for his opinion, which he gave with a dismissive shake of his head, “We need someone skilled in infiltration to lead that mission - and the best person for that job is hanging up on that goddamn cross up there.” Silence filled the air after that - a heavy silence weighed down with regret and guilt amongst the raider commanders. Guilt for not being able to do more to save one of their own. “We can only wait,” O-Dog said finally, “Lady Ashur won’t abandon us. Reinforcements ARE coming…and when they do….we’ll smash the mutant bastards and drive them back to the Rockies - and get Vikia back.”