Tiberius67

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Lee's Gun Shop

“Sounds good to me”, James replied. “I need to put on my Brotherhood outfit for armor, even if it is dirty. The material is thick enough to offer some protection.”

"I'll...go get my things", Corrine said, visibly nervous about the idea. "Be back at the gate in thirty minutes."

“I’ll be at the gate soon too.”, James said with a nod, he then turned to Steve. “Either of us could operate the device, though I have more weapons. It might be best if my hands weren’t full.”

"I'll hold onto it, then", Steve replied. "Need to pick up something then I'll be right down."

Steve then headed back to the Last Plank, and entered the bar, ignoring a couple of snickers as he jogged up the stairs to his room. He removed his pistol belt, wrapping it around the holster the .45 revolver was in then set it on the bed and then rummaged around in his haversack, pulling out another holstered revolver, a box of .38 shells, and some .357 on speedloaders. He put on the other belt, and stuck the ammunition in his left coat pocket. He then searched further until he found his compass, a old metal cased military model on a lanyard. He looped the lanyard around his neck then put the compass in a shirt pocket. He then emptied the haversack on the bed, then placed the items in the dresser, and slung the haversack over his shoulder. He then left, locking the door behind him, and left the bar and headed for the docks. On his way to the gate, he saw the Enclaver talking to a sour faced woman at the gun shop...apparently she was the owner.

"You should easily be able to get 200 caps if not more this, so 150? for the shotgun", he said to her as he handed her a old Combat Shotgun butt first, "...and the rest of the bill I'll pay in caps."

"Doesn't look like much....", the woman said, as she examined the weapon with a critical eye, "..but fine, I'll give you something for it. 100 caps, take it or leave it."

She then put all the guns and ammo in a small burlap sack and handed it over to James once he handed her a bag a caps.

"Here", she said gruffly as she handed him the bag, "Now let me close up for the night."

She began closing up the stall as the Enclaver noticed him. He pulled a lever action rifle out of the bag and handed it to him, followed by five boxes of shells. Steve took a quick look at the rifle, which appeared to be worn but well cared for. On the barrel was stamped "Marlin Model 1895 Caliber .45-70 Gov't."

"Thanks", Steve said, "but it's going to be a while before I can pay you back for this..."

"You can pay me back with one of power armour suits... and maybe a plasma rifle." The Enclaver replied with a chuckle.

"You'll have to take that up with James", Steve replied, "He has more of a claim on that stuff than Corrine and I do. Speaking of them, they are waiting for us at the gate....lets go."

As Steve approached, he saw Corrine and James waiting there for them. He walked up and stopped. He didn't really want to go out there, but there seemed to be no choice.

"Looks like we're all here...so lets get this show on the road", Steve said, doing his best to hide his apprehension as he turned on the device, and took a bearing with the compass on the direction it was in. He then pointed in the direction that the signal was coming from. "It's that way....what would be the best way to proceed, Corrine?"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Riding a borrowed horse - outskirts of town

Tiring of riding circles around the Village Square, and to find a spout to let the horse graze, Mary ambled down the road South. She didn't plan to go far, as she didn't know how the horse would react near the Museum. Heading to the outskirts of town, Mary passed by the ruins of houses, looking for a suitable place to stop. It was then she noticed the stranger down the road, running towards her waving his arms over his head. He looked young, wearing a jeans, with a green jacket over a T-shirt. He was armed, a rifle was slung over his shoulder, but his demeanor didn't strike her as threatening....he seemed to be running away from something. She nudged the horse forward and trotted up to him and stopped.

The man appeared to be completely distracted by the horse, and approached and began to gently run his hands along it's face and neck. Obviously he had never seen a horse before...Mary could only guess that the horse and it's rider had come from elsewhere. West? From Canada? But he hadn't been signalling her so he could touch the horse...he was scared of something, and it wasn't just the Museum.

"There something wrong, mister?", Mary asked politely, "You looked like you were in trouble."

He shook his head then spoke. “You have to be careful out here", he said, pointing West, "I just came from some place called Dunwich Borers. Some creepy stuff happening over there, hooded men and women chanting before some stone monolith."

"The Quarry?", Mary asked, "Worshiping a monolith?" Mary found that quite odd. "The Quarry is held by Raiders...never heard of Raiders worshiping an idol."

"Also they were digging further down...", he continued, "They chased me when they saw me, I think I gave them the slip, but I’d be careful if I were you. They definitely did not seem friendly… and the presen-…yeah not friendly.” He looked like he was about to say more, but checked himself and started fiddling with his backpack nervously.

“Sorry, for the rudeness.", he said after composing himself. "My name is Rick, Rick Noel… But please believe me, stay away from that area.”

About then, the hairs began to stand up on the back of her neck...she was in danger. Not from Rick....but someone else nearby.

"Pleased to meet you, Rick...i'm Mary Hawthorne", Mary replied with a eerie calm as she reached into a pocket and her fingers curled around the grip of her revolver. "Don't act alarmed, but we're about to be attacked. Be a dear and get that rifle unslung, if you please."

As Rick unslung his rifle from his shoulder, the bushes in front of the ruined house less than fifty feet to Mary's right rustled and two forms hurtled out, rushing straight for them.

"PH´NGLUI SOTH!", one of them screamed as he raised up a old Chinese officer's sword and charged straight for her. Mary pulled out the revolver and rapidly emptied it into his chest. At least one round connected, as the assailant screamed, dropping the sword and clutching at his chest as he staggered back. About that time, Rick opened fire, the sound of the high-powered rifle startling the horse and causing it to rear back. Unable to hold on, Mary leapt off instead, landing on her feet. She raided the revolver again and pulled the trigger, only to hear a click as the hammer fell on a spent cartridge. Her attacker, blood beginning to trickle from a corner of his youth, looked at her with pure hatred as he used his free hand to inject himself in the neck with a Psycho injector he had produced from within his robes.

"Bitch!", he spat at her as he pulled out a large knife that had been jammed into his belt, "I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been born!"

Mary dropped the revolver and snatched the sword off the ground and fell into an "en garde" stance, waiting for her assailant to make his move. He lunged forward to strike, which she easily parried, leaving him wide open so that she could run him through, the blade finding his heart. This was too much for even his drug induced frenzy to compensate for, and he sunk to his knees, blood now gushing from his mouth. He gurgled something at her then fell over dead. She stood there for a moment, panting to catch her breath as she savored the moment...then looked around. Rick had dealt with the other attacker, fortunately. She stuck the sword in the ground, point first, and picked up her revolver, ejecting the shells into her hand then pulling them in her pocket and reloading the cylinder with a speed loader. She then walked up to the attacker and put a round into his temple to make sure he was dead. Noticing a medallion around his neck, she pulled it off and pocketed it. Walking over to the crumpled form of the other one, she saw a check shot was unnecessary as the back of his skull had been blown out from Rick's rifle. She looked over at Rick, her arm, still holding the smoking revolver hanging limp by her side.

"We need to get out of here, Rick", Mary said. "there may be more of them".

Fortunately, the horse had not gone far, so she was able to approach it and calm it down, and climbed back aboard.

"Get up behind me", Mary said, reaching out her hand for him to take. "just stay still, and hold on to me and we'll get back to town alright."

After a couple attempts, she was able to get Rick onboard, and they rode back into town, heading for her house. She put the horse in the brahmin pen, and took his bridle off.

"Well, Rick", she said, "I must say that meeting you has been....interesting. If you'd like, I can put out a extra plate for you...and perhaps you could tell me more about what you saw in that Quarry."

She led him inside, passing through the living room and the robots she had found piled up on the floor. As well as the bloody saddle from the horse....something she needed to address soon.

"Amazing what folks throw out, isn't it?", Mary said, "Found them while looking for bottles. I hope to find someone able to get at least one of them working again...don't know the first thing about fixing them myself."

She then took Rick into the kitchen, inviting him to take a seat at the kitchen table. She offered him some brahmin milk from the refrigerator, and then began to prepare venison stew.

"Only meat I have is venison", Mary said as she moved about the kitchen, "but I've got some pretty good recipes for it."

Once it was prepared, and cooking, she got herself some milk and sat down at the table opposite him.

"So tell me, Rick", Mary said in a friendly manner, "What brings you to Salem?"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Mary Hawthorne - Her House - Dawn

Awakened to the sound of a rooster crowing, Mary opened her eyes and began to stir. A slight breeze was moving the threadbare curtains on her open bedroom windows, the dawn of a new day beginning to be visible through them. It had only been a few days, but the absence of the aches and pains she had felt for so long was gratifying....not to mention her now clear vision and improved hearing. A ghoul's extended lifespan carried a heavy price indeed...a burden Mary did not care to re-assume unless she had to. She climbed out of bed and put on the tan dress she had laid out on the dresser the night before. The musty smell and accumulated dust of the long vacant house irritated her...not to mention offended her reacquired sense of smell....she had spent most of the day yesterday cleaning the house, and there was still much to be done.

Making her way downstairs, she lit a fire in the fireplace then grabbed a pail and went to the kitchen sink. Turning on the tap, she waited until the brackish water cleared up then thrust the pail under it and let it fill. Obediah had been good enough to include a small purifier with the items she had brought from Point Lookout...and showed her how to use it...but it only produced a couple gallons a day, and she needed that for cooking and cleaning so the brahmin would have to make do with tap water, not that it would hurt the mutated creature any. Once the first pail was full, she swapped it out for another and placed the first one outside her front door. Once the second was full, she shut off the tap and went outside, picking up the other pail and heading for the brahmin enclosure next to her house. As she walked, she noticed that there were more people moving about than there was yesterday. She entered the pen, and emptied the pails into the old bathtub she was using to water her brahmin. The thirsty creature mooed contentedly and began to drink. Exiting the pen, and closing it behind her, she looked around....noticing two things right off the bat.

On the roof of the Diner, a sign had appeared.

Looking for some entertainment after your meal?
Head around the corner to the Pleasure Den!
BOOZE! DRUGS! AND GIRLS!
Also Hiring!

"Girls" and "Also Hiring" made her lips curl with distaste.

"A whorehouse? Here in Salem?", she thought bitterly, "John would have had that whoremonger horsewhipped and run out of town on a rail!"

She then caught herself....the stern morality of her youth was not relevant anymore...that was a far different world than the one she was in now. She also knew now what she had not then, that they were not sinners in the hands of an angry God, ceaselessly watching over them and keeping score. Whore or virgin, there was only one thing behind the veil for all....oblivion in a vast and uncaring universe. It really didn't matter in the scheme of things what you did...though it was still foolish to squander what little precious time they were given with such activities. Also, a place like that might have it's uses. The idea of actually selling herself in such a place was out of the question...but other opportunities might present themselves. The sort of people who frequent such places might be useful as helpers...if paid in sufficient coin. And she would need help indeed with the task that had brought her home after all these years. She decided to find this place and speak with it's proprietor later.

The other thing that got her attention was the horse....the first one she had seen since a few years after the War. She had noticed it tied up to a lamp post outside the diner yesterday, after she had been distracted from her cleaning by some silly child playing with a small pistol in the streets. If that woman who had confronted the Mutant hadn't taken it from her she would have gone out and given her a piece of her mind. She hadn't given the horse any further thought, but she now saw it was still in the same spot today, and getting a bit restive from the way it had begun to pull at the halter securing it to the lamp post.

Heading back into the house, she put away the pails and got the clean pail she was using for clean water, then filled it from the plastic tank the purifier was discharging into. She then exited the house and, pail in hand, walked towards the Diner and the horse. As she approached, she noticed the horse, a silver dappled Rocky Mountain Horse, was still saddled and there was blood on it's flank. Approaching the horse, she patted it reassuringly and moved around the front of it, and placed the pail of clean water where the horse could reach it. The horse immediately plunged it's muzzle into the pail and began to drink greedily.

"Thirsty, are you?", Mary said as she stroked the horse's neck affectionately as she examined the blood on the horse. To her relief, the horse was uninjured, the blood on it's flank and smeared on the saddle was human, probably it's rider. "What happened to your rider?", she said. The horse looked back at her and snorted, not that she expected an answer. Looking in the Diner, there were several people, none seemed at all concerned with the horse or her. "Well, lets get you cleaned up and get that saddle off you....these people clearly don't know what you need....but I do."

Mary untied the horse and led him back to her house. Once there, she removed the saddle and saddle bags, draping the blanket over the railing of her front porch then hauling the saddle bags and bloody saddle inside. Looking into one of the bags, she found among the personal effects of the rider the horse's brush, which she took and closed the bag up again. After filling the pail again, she went back outside, and gave the horse more water. She then turned her attention to cleaning the blood off the horse and brushing it, while it grazed at the overgrown grass in her front yard. The horse patiently allowed her to take care of it, though she could see that all was still not quite right.

"You need some exercise, don't you?", Mary said. "I don't have a big enough pen for you to run in so we'll take a short ride....how about that?" She then clambered up onto the horse's back....the water having earned her enough good will for the horse to accept her....and after a few unsteady moments, coaxed the horse into a slow trot. She hadn't ridden a horse bareback for so long that she could barely remember it...she had been fifteen and had done it on a dare from her elder brother. How upset father had been at her for that...both of them had gotten a taste of his belt. The sensuous feeling of the powerful animal between her bare thighs brought the old memories flooding back...her life had been a happy one in those days....happy in her ignorance of the awful truths that she would come to know, and what the world had been like before the fools running it had ruined it for everyone else.

After the first circuit of the streets surrounding the Village Square, she felt secure enough in her seat to coax the horse into picking up the pace, trotting around the Square, smiling at the townspeople who had noticed what she was doing and stood and gawked. Soon, she would need to find who this horse belonged to and get their property back to them....but for now she chose to enjoy the moment.

War Never Changes

Offut AFB 0715 (6:15 PDT)

"Three hours ago", the briefing officer said, "One of our cargo planes, returning from a mission to deliver cargo to a contractor in Brownsville, Texas, picked up NCR tactical radio comm traffic in Northern Mexico. This is an alarming development to say the least. It could mean that the NCR is trying to flank the Legion forces and either attack them from behind...or perhaps an attack on the Legion capital in Santa Fe. Needless to say, that will put the NCR into direct confrontation with us."

Paladin Harris, and his Wingman Paladin Torres both nodded grimly. They were well aware that the elite Brimstone Guards Brigade had been deployed to Santa Fe...for this very contingency.

"The source of the signals is somewhere in Chihuahua, Mexico.", the officer continued. "We've got a tanker en route to Albuquerque, you will rendezvous there to refuel then proceed south into Mexico. Your mission will be to conduct aerial reconnaissance of the target area, then return to report. Intelligence believes that any NCR force will be traveling along either Federal Highway 2 or 10, so start there."

"Sir", asked Paladin Harris, "What are the rules of engagement?"

"Do not engage NCR forces unless fired upon", the officer replied. "With that said, we want them left with no doubt in thier minds that we know they are there...so feel free to be creative." He then added, "Just be careful...your Hellions are the only two we have."

West of El Paso, TX - 7:30 MDT (two hours later)

The Hellions headed south into Mexico, picking up the old Mexican highway Federal Route 2, and following it about 5000 feet up. Cruising along, they overflew the highway, which was deserted except for a small caravan. After about 10 minutes, they began to approach the ruins of Ascensión, which had been one of the larger towns in the area Pre-War. Beyond it, approaching the town, was a large column moving East down the Highway towards the town.

"That's gotta be it", Harris said triumphantly to Torres over the com, "Look at the size of that column....there is several thousand men at least!" He then added...I'm making my run.....watch my back." Harris descended to about 500 feet then started the cameras in the recon pod along the center-line of his aircraft and kicked in the afterburner and made his run, speeding over the column just over the speed of sound. Once clear, he banked right then made a second run, this time parallel to the NCR column. As he sped by, he could see the column was thrown into disarray. The then made a run down the other side, once again parallel to the column. He then waggled his wings at the astonished NCR troopers, shut off his camera pod, and proceeded to follow the road again, down the direction the NCR force had come.

"Well, that certainly got their attention", Torres said with a laugh, "You should have seen them scatter when you flew over them...too funny!"

"That'll make the highlight reel", Harris said with a chuckle, "We'll see if that's all of them then it's back home. Command will want to know about this."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Lee's Gun Shop

“Military Frequency AF47”, James replied without looking up. Reaching for another box, he lifted out the chassis of a toaster then began to sort through the parts inside....after a moment he found something, and held it up for Steve to see. “Would this work?”

Steve took a look. The switch was similar to the one they needed to replace, except there was a chunk of plastic still attached to it....most likely the casing of the device it once was installed in.

"Let me see", Steve said once the switch was handed to him. The switch had been held in place with a nut, he found it turned easily with his fingers so he simply removed it from the piece of plastic....mildly curious why Corrine had cut it out of the casing rather than just unscrew the nut, before dismissing the thought as irrelevant. "Looks good." He then removed the MFC from the device and then swapped out the switch and then fired up the solder gun and soldered the wires to the switch. He then replaced the MFC and as he reassembled the casing to the device, Corrine returned.

"I'm back," she called into the shop, placing the radio onto the counter. "How're you makin' out, in here? Can I help?"

“We might just have gotten a working switch.”, James replied to her.

"Great job, Corrine", Steve said, "James found a switch for us, just got done putting it in. Well...here goes nothing", then flipped the switch. The green light on the device immediately turned on, and the needle in the gauge moved, raising up noticeably when he aimed it in a North-Westerly direction. He smiled triumphantly. "it works...all that remains is to test it. Turn the radio on and set it to Military AF-47...when you key the mic the meter should spike when we point it that way."

When the mic was keyed, the needle jumped to maximum when the device was pointed at the radio, dropping off again when it was released. Through the Ham radio's speaker, a steady beep from the signal could be heard.

"It works", Steve said happily. "if we had the time using the tracker and the radio we could probably triangulate the position to within a stone's throw but time is something we don't have. If we're going to get the armor and weapons, at least, we need to go in the next few minutes. Once everyone's back, we need to go if we're going to do this. What do you guys think?" Steve asked in concluded.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - The Gun Shop

“Sounds like a terrible experience", James said, "I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to take to the sea like that after so many years of fancy vertibirds.”, he chuckled a little, pushing away the bittersweet memory of the past. “Where are you from originally? You seem a little familiar.”

"I was born in Megaton", Steve replied, "But grew up in Rivet City. Was in a caravan with my dad...but our little caravan stumbled into the middle of a fight between the Brotherhood, or at least the ones calling themselves Outcasts back then, and the Enclave near the Ft Detrick crater....God only knows what they wanted there, the Chinese hit whatever the pace was so hard that even ghouls can't go in that crater without turning feral. Dad didn't make it out, and we lost the cargo so the caravan went bust. I had nothing keeping me in the Capital Wasteland anymore, so I went down to Baltimore and used my experience on repair crews in Rivet City and signed onto a ship...been at it ever since.

“I already have Shark, Bear, and Talon”, he said as he gestured at the weapons on him. “But we lack armor unless this shop has some, or we get to the vertibird tonight. Also I'll standby to help you get the tracker up and running.” He squinted out a cracked window at the setting sun. “I’m not sure we have much time for anything if we don’t start preparing now. And I’m sure going outside the wall at night will be a bit more dangerous than day time.”

"You're right", Steve observed, "we need to get this done soon if we're going to have time to make the trip and back before it gets too late. He flipped the light on over the workbench, and once Corrine unlocked the chest he removed a screw driver set, the multi-meter, and rummaged around until he found a soldering iron, which he set aside for a moment.

"Corrine", Steve asked, "Is there a working ham radio in town? If so, could you borrrow it and bring it here? It'll help test this device."

Steve turned his attention to the device, and carefully removed the screws and placed them in a small container he found on Corrine's shelf. He then slowly opened the casing and examined the contents. It was powered by a MFC, and a decal of the circuitry diagram had helpfully been placed inside the back cover. Testing with the multimeter indicated the circuit was good, as was the MFC.....yet there was no power. Steve looked closer at the power switch, and found the problem, the contacts on the back of it had been snapped off by the impact. The switch was ruined, but jury-rigging a replacement would be simple enough....all that was needed was another that was about the same size. He carefully removed the switch.

"We need a replacement for this, James", he said as he showed him the switch. "it's broken but any switch about this size will work in it's place. Other than that it should still work....at least as long as it doesn't take another blow like that one again."

He then began rummaging around in the various bins and boxes on Corrine's shelf, and gestured for James to join him.

"I forgot to ask", Steve said, "What frequency is this device set to detect?"

War Never Changes

Kodiak Airport

After landing safely, the ponderous aircraft followed the marshaler off the runway and onto the taxiway, towards the terminal amid the first flurries of the snowstorm they had been warned about on approach. Once the terminal was reached, they were directed to spot in front of one of the hangars, and instructed to stop. A passenger boarding stair was quickly put in place and Senior Scribe Nakamura, her team behind her, began to disembark from the aircraft. She shivered, feeling the cold even under her pre-war Air Force Parka. Looking around from the top of the stair, she saw the ground crews were approaching the aircraft, preparing to connect it to a pushback tug to bring it inside the hangar. Also approaching were a group of soldiers, their heavy armor visible underneath the bearskin cloaks.

Though her grandfather had been one of those who accompanied the Lord-Paladin to the Midwest from California nearly a century ago, she had never expected to see the Pacific Coast herself. But she had a Duty, her specialty was disposal of the bewildering array of nuclear devices the Old World...both US and Chinese...had built in the vain hope they would protect them, and that Duty had brought her here. The mercenaries had found a live Minuteman XI ICBM, and had asked for help in getting rid of it....help the Brotherhood was only too pleased to provide. No doubt the current inhabitants of Guilin, in China, would also be appreciative.....that was the target for this missile under response plan MX-CN91. Why pre-war planners would target a ICBM on one of China's most popular tourist spots, according to pre-war records, was beyond her understanding. She suspected it was out of sheer bloody-mindedness...which made it all the more obscene to her.

Once she descended the stairs, she apprached what looked to be the leader of the soldiers.

"Good Morning", she said, "I am Senior Scribe Amanda Nakamura, I am the Director of the Midwestern Order's NEST Team. We are here to assist you with your recent discovery."

"Also", Amanda added, "We have brought payment for a contract your Company has taken from us. I was not briefed on the nature of that operation, but I am authorized to say I am delivering payment in full. The flight crew will assist your people in offloading it from the aircraft at your convenience."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Gun Shop

“Somewhat....", the merc said, "I won’t lie and say we didn’t kill most if not of the people we came across but when we killed you it was quick and painless; Brotherhood taking away people’s weapons “because you can’t be trusted” left you weak and vulnerable for whoever showed up..”

"So your Death Squads were doing us a favor, is that your excuse?", Steve sneered, "Well, forgive me if I'm not feeling very grateful. I'm not a fan of the Brotherhood by any means, but I can't deny they did us a solid by dealing with you people. I always thought the Brotherhood claims that you people tried to spike the Purifier with poison were bullshit...listening to you, I see now that it probably wasn't."

About that time a third man appeared behind the merc...he had a soldier-like air about him too, in spite of the clothes. He stood there, quietly listening, as Corrine and the merc....who she clearly disliked...began to bicker again about who ran the gun shop now.

“I have my own plan to help out", the man said. "I was in a Brotherhood of Steel vertibird on the way over here when it crashed somewhere on the island. It’s got good gear on it: power armor, heavy weapons, ammunition, and the armor plating could be salvaged from it”

"All of which we desperately need right about now", Steve replied, perking up a bit as the idea gave him that hope that between Corrine and their stranger, his luck might be finally turning for the better. "The idea I had will be a lot more doable if the operator is in the iron. If the hose bursts, it would kill or maim an unprotected operator. How far away is the wreck?"

“I have a device that can locate the downed vertibird, but it broke when I… fell out of the bird mid air.”, he held out a device, which Steve took. “Think you can fix it?"

Steve gave it a cursory glance, feeling the warmth as Corrine pressed up against him from behind and looked over his shoulder at the device.

"Damn it", Steve thought with slight irritation, "We were having a moment here...couldn't they have waited a bit?"

It was rectangular, with a couple buttons and dials, and a analog gauge. The cover was cracked in a couple places, but at least wasn't crushed. When he operated the power switch, nothing happened.

"Maybe", Steve said, "If you don't mind I'll need to get it apart to know for sure." He then glanced over at Corrine, her chin perched on his shoulder....noticing her face was close enough to his to kiss...

"Corrine", Steve asked, inwardly cursing the two newcomers as he restrained the urge to kiss her, "Could you open up your tool box for me, please?"

"Also, what are your names?", the Man asked, "I’m James Gregor Castner, former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel”.

"I'm Steve Miller", Steve said, "Chief Engineer, and sole survivor of the SS Regina...she was a tramp steamer out of Halifax. Went down in a storm about three weeks ago. Folks that picked me up dropped me off here."

“Since you’re the better Handyman, it seems, I’ll leave you to fix that and find out who owns this store", the merc said as he turned to leave. "Even with the tracker fixed we may not be able to recover the equipment in time for the atom fruitcakes attack and should have access to the store’s stock without risk of being shot for being a thief.”

"You do that", Steve said, glad to have the man out of his hair for a bit. Given the situation, he needed the Enclaver, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "I could use a rifle as well, and Corrine needs 10mm ammo and N99 magazines."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

Steve Miller - Closed Gun Shop

Corrine accepted the pistol from Steve with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, then began to answer his questions. She mentioned that a pre-war atomic submarine was present at the island. Steve's stomach churned a bit when he remembered what "SSBN" meant....it was a carrier for nuclear missiles.

I hope to God they launched them all during the War....if it still has one or more on board and someone finds a way to launch it....

There was also another vessel, MV Azalea...but that was probably a freighter. No...the gun and multimeter came from that submarine. That might be something worth looking into...as much as he disliked the Brotherhood, they would be able to deal with a stray nuke better than anyone else he could think of. He'd seen the bomb craters around Washington with his own eyes...the idea of something like that being set off again made him ill.

As far as the cooker, apparantly that belonged to the owner of The Last Plank, Mitch. Corrine indicated the merchant Brooks and someone called the Mariner had heavy tools. The big problem would be protection for whoever operated the hose...if it ruptured someone with exposed skin would be scalded to death where they stood.

And before she could reply to his final question, a voice from the door interrupted.

“She was referring to me.”

Steve looked over to see the merc from the bar standing in the doorway, his coat thrown open to reveal a well worn gray uniform.

"What the hell is the meaning of this? You just put yerself into any conversation you want?", Corrine said angrily, suspicion and dislike written all over her face. She shook her head and pointed a finger at James, accusingly. "Well, he ain't lyin'. Up in Acadia, he flat out told Bishop and Rose he was 'Enclave'." She paused for a moment, then added, "Didn't mean much to me, but now that I think about it, Bishop and Rose weren't too happy about it."

"Because they have a habit of killing anyone they run across that's not in their little tribe", Steve replied. "They make the Brotherhood seem almost reasonable by comparison."

"Now," she all but growled at James, "what do you want?"

"To get a gun.... This is a Gun store is it not?", the merc replied, "Plasma defender may be good up close but I need something for long range, maybe one of lever action rifles Old Grumpy has.”

"The owner's dead, I hear", Steve said, "Not sure who is seeing to his affairs these days. Probably oughta find who that is before you go walking off with something. Folk out in the Wasteland tend to shoot thieves....just sayin'"

War Never Changes

Inquisitor Wilson - Covington, IN

Covington, IN - Sheriff's Office - 0635 CT (8:35 PT)

"Allow me", Inquisitor Wilson said as leaned over the the table and presented a flip lighter so the youngish woman across from him could light her cigarette. Normally, Wilson wouldn't allow a interviewee to smoke in his presence...it was a disgusting habit, not to mention unhealthy...but when working for willing cooperation from a subject, small gestures could mean a lot.

"Thanks", she said as she lit the cigarette, then settled back in her chair. she was still relatively young, in her mid-twenties, though the guarded expression women in her line of work assumed made her look older. She was dressed similarly to Brother Simon, who leaned against the far wall listening to the interview, her rifle leaning up against the wall next to him. Though Simon...now Acting Mayor...was relevant to this, he was mainly there to reassure Betty, who was somewhat nervous to find herself face to face with one of Barnaky's dreaded Inquisitors.

"Please be advised, this interview is now being recorded", Brother Wilson said, then picking up a small remote and turning on the camera. "This is Inquisitor Charles Wilson, OIC Field Investigation Group II, in Covington, IN on this date at 0635 Central Time. This proceeding is the initial post-mission debriefing of Betty Henderson, 26, a resident of Covington and Auxiliary of the Office of State."

"To begin, tell me about yourself, Betty", Wilson said, "While Brother Simon has spoken to me about you, I would like to hear from you in your own words why you chose to work with us."

Betty's story was like many he had heard before across the Wasteland outside...a widow with children who had found herself obliged to either sacrifice her pride or see her children starve. To make matters worse, most of the proceeds from selling her body went to the murderer of her husband, the former Sheriff of Covington, now in a cell awaiting his fate. That alone would have seen him hanged for public corruption as an object lesson....the fact that Betty wasn't the only resident he had victimized just made that fate more certain...but he also turned out to be a member of the Cult cell that plagued the town. Word had come down to transport him back to Danville...it seems they had something special planned for him.

Unfortunately for former Sheriff Roscoe P Coletrain...she was made of sterner stuff than he had realized. She had proved eager to work with Brother Simon, to the point of continuing her "work"...and the things Coletrane forced her to perform were revolting, and clearly pained her to discuss in front of a camera...to help the Cause. Thanks to the information she provided, Simon was able to round up most of the Cult cell to present to him gift-wrapped upon his arrival. The demented gibbering he had elicited from the prisoners when he toured the cell-block had proven Mrs Henderson's efficiency...he had already recommended her and her children be evacuated as soon as possible.

Wilson was, as delicately as he could, asking questions about the conversations with Coletrane that led to her discovering his membership in the Cult when he heard two explosions, one after another, seemingly outside. They were close enough that some plaster fell from the ceiling of the old building.

"What the hell?", Wilson said as he reached for his radio to call his command vehicle. "Brother Jones, what just...."

He was interrupted by a third explosion, this one much closer. More plaster fell from the ceiling, and the door was blasted inward and the lights went out as smoke billowed into the room as all three of them were knocked off thier feet (or chairs). After a moment, the old emergency lights flickered into life as Wilson got to his feet and dusted himself off dazedly. Simon helped Betty to her feet and handed her rifle to her. Wilson drew his plasma pistol and approached the door just as the decrepit sprinker system activated, a drizzle of brackish water emanating from each head. Looking cautiously around the door, he saw that the main lobby of the old Pre-War building was devastated....the third bomb had detonated inside the building. The guards that had been posted here were all dead. Staggering outside, he saw bodies everywhere.

"Suicide bombers", he heard Simon say behind him, "Gotta be".

He noticed the War Correspondent from the Administration's Office of War Information climbing down from the APC she had been operating her camera from to help.

"No, Sister", Wilson explained, "Get back to your post, I want you to keep filming!" she hesitated a minute, caught off guard by the order. He added, "the people need to see what kind of degenerates we're fighting!". That did it and she got back aboard the APC and manned her camera.

"Jones", Lewis barked into his radio, "Situation report!"

The command APC reported that the rest of the settlement was quiet...thankfully the bombing did not seem to be the opening of a counter-attack. He ordered the recon drones circling above the settlement to be re-tasked to cover the area around the settlement in case this was a distraction for a larger attack from outside. Fortunately, that was not the case either, though one of the drones picked up a figure running away from the town. Wilson ordered the contact to be followed and turned his situation back to dealing with the aftermath of the attack.

"What do you think, Brother Simon", Wilson asked. "Were they trying to rescue the prisoners...or silence them?"

"Perhaps", Simon replied with the serenity only a true fanatic can display, "Or they might have wanted to provoke a over-reaction against the people, or to make the people doubt we can protect them....or perhaps they just wanted to kill as many people as they could before we finished them. it's best not to read too much into what they do...trying to understand them too much leads to madness and Heresy. All we need know is that they are our Enemy and will stop at nothing to strike at us.

"For my part", Simon continued, "I believe this attack was an admission that Covington is lost to them."

"Yes", Wilson said wearily, "Your words ring true. There are probably only a few left here now....we just have to find them. I suspect in the sewers, though the logical place to start would be to search the homes of confirmed members for clues. For now, I want a curfew set to limit the casualties they can cause."

"It will be done, Inquisitor", Simon said, saluting Brotherhood style before taking his leave to carry out the order.
Wilson then turned to the rather distraught Betty.

"Collect your children...I'll send some men with you...then report to the Command vehicle", Wilson said, "I'm ordering you evacuated with the wounded. It's not out of the realm of possibility that they were trying to get to you....and I am not going to take that chance."

As the detail left for Betty's house, Wilson sighed and pounded twice on the rear door of the Command APC then moved back as it slowly opened to let him in. He was not looking forward to submitting a report on this mess.

It was going to be a long war.