«12. . .2,4352,4362,4372,4382,4392,4402,441. . .2,8912,892»
Smash and Grab, pt. 5
The sounds of rotors swishing filled the air over the Lexington overpass as Cindy and a crew of salvagers returned for the broken vertibird atop the pass. Using picks and spikes, the crew tethered themselves to the overpass and proceeded to (very carefully) bind up the crashed aircraft and tether it to Cindy's vertibird. Once they had finished and gotten back onboard, Cindy took off and slowly gained altitude to where the tether lines had gone taut.
The vertibird hovered there, its engines straining. "It's stuck!" one of the salvagers cried.
"I can see that!" Cindy snapped. She pushed the throttle, giving the engines more power.
"Try moving across the edge and pulling it out diagonally!" the salvager who was her copilot suggested.
Cindy did so, moving over the road below and increasing the power. Suddenly, almost with an audible pop, the crashed vertibird came free, catching Cindy by surprise and nearly causing a crash. As they were recovering, however, the crew heard a groan, then a rumble - and they turned to see the overpass crashing down to the ground like a cut tree as the ancient supports gave way. The crash sent up a cloud of dust and concrete dust that engulfed the area, including a large portion of Lexington.
"Oops," Cindy murmured. "Sure hope there wasn't anybody down there..." And with that, the Vertibird turned northeast and returned to the bastion.
Once they returned, Cindy walked up to Mr. Whitfield as he was inspecting the broken vertibird they had returned. "What's the prognosis, doc?" she asked, biting on a carrot.
"One of the rotor arms is badly damaged," Whitfield replied. "That'll add some time, unfortunately. I was gonna prognosticate half the time it took to repair yours, since we know what we're doing now, but this arm... It's going to take just as long."
Cindy shook her head. "It's never easy." She frowned. "I wonder who they're gonna get to fly it..."
"I hear Rosa's son wants to try it out," Whitfield replied, smiling. "You up for training him?"
Cindy grimaced. "Mr. Whitfield, you know as well as I am that I'm still an amateur. Captain Delaney can train him, he trained me after all."
"Yeah, but you had innate skill, you'd been preparing for this," Whitfield commented. "Diego hasn't done anything except drive fast cars all his young life."
"That's beside the point."
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Vertibird being repaired, completion on RL October 22.
New Decandsor, Ardentus, Liberated New Arizona, Peoples land of armenia, and 1 otherBayoux
Four Horsemen watch as the Vertibird takes off and the overpass crumbles from a distance.
Numinus Smiles as a slight bit of Concrete dust breezes against his metal armor.
"It would appear that others are doing the job for us."
Grabbing the Reigns of his horse he turns towards Concord.
"Lets make haste. There is much work to be Done."
With that the Four Horsemen Ride off in the Distance.
Dragging behind them and Tethered by a rope is the now Flayed Remains of the "Settler" from the Ruins of the Drumlin Diner.
Concord, The Commonwealth
The Four Horsemen arrive in Concord by way of Lexington. The Hooves of the Horses Echo loudly as they trot through the Deserted Concrete roads.
From what it appeared prior to the Great war and sometime after Concord had been a hotbed of activity though it was now a Ghost town its only Travelers being caravans who went the long way around to avoid some of the Larger Raiders gangs that had formed in the Region.
Numinus planned to Change that.
Walking behind the Horses Bound by their Wrists was a figure who replaced the Flayed Remains they left Lexington with.
The Figure was small of Stature but for what Numinus Needed Stature did not matter.
The Group Traveled through the Abandoned streets until the Reached A Device Attached to the Side of a House Only named..Concord Municipal Plutonium Well.
From what Numinus had gathered these wells were used simply to gather Plutonium From underground Sources though for what he was unsure. The Wells themselves Were Tightly Shielded and Protected to avoid unnecessary and Very Damaging Radiation Leaks.
Stopping the Horses Numinus jumped down from the Saddle and made his way to the Captive in the back.
Reaching forward he removed the Cloth sack over the Figures face Revealing a Young Female perhaps Early 20's though it was quite obvious that before being a Captive the Woman was a raider.
The Scars and her Pupils said it all.
[Numinus] "We are here."
[Raider] "Let me go please."
Numinus laughed.
[Numinus] "Prove to me your worthy of walking away from this."
[Raider] "F..From what?"
Numinus grabbed the Rope which bound her wrists together and used it to guide her to the Front of the Plutonium well.
[Numinus] "Your Test is simple. Perhaps the Easiest i have Given. This is the Municipal Well. All i ask is that you open the Access point and Toss a Few Grenades in."
The raider looked Shocked.
[Raider] "Why?"
[Numinus] "I have my reasons. I will untie you and leave you the Grenades. Try to run before the job is done and i will kill you myself."
Numinus did as promised and untied the Lady leaving her Five hand grenades.
Keeping their eyes on her they retreated by horse back to the Outskirts of Concord and Watched.
Sure enough. She fell for it. Out of sheer desperation to survive.
Opening the hatch she tossed the Grenades in and Began to run down the Road though Stopped short as the Explosives Detonated.
The Shielding on the Well and the Pipes Blew into Pieces as they Began to immediately spread Radiation through the Air.
Unfortunately for the Raider she was too close to the leak and made it only a few more feet before she Dropped to the Ground Screaming.
Long before she fell the Riders were long gone.
Concord was now a Radioactive Hellhole that was a deathtrap for any who sought to travel through it.
JFK International, NYC
The small Base that was first built 26 days ago had expanded into a FOB, a fleet of Vertibirds sat on the pavement, men rushing to and fro as orders came through for Operation Northern Fortress. One by one, all 15 Vertibirds lifted off the pavement and headed north, carrying their compliments of Soldiers and Auxiliaries.
Creech AFB, Nevada
The once abandoned and run down base had been transformed into a bastion of Enclave might. Steel barricades ran the length of the base, and outside that a series of energy field generators sat, a tall blue wall of energy buzzing around the base.
Near Sanctuary, The Commonwealth
[Numinus] "Is the Cause your only Dream?"
[Calgon] "The Cause is the Blood which pumps through my Veins."
[Numinus] "Would you stray from the Call?"
[Calgon] "The Call is All i hear."
[Numinus] "Would you lay down your life for the Cause?"
[Calgon] "I would die on demand for the Dream."
Numinus Nodded and picked up a Combat knife resting in the Soil near his feet. Taking the Combat knife he Cut his hand and Used the Blood to draw a symbol on the Initiates Chest.
[Numinus] "I deem you worthy of the Cause. You will die knowing that your spirit will live on."
Bunker Hill, The Commonwealth
Calgon Approaches the Settlement of bunker hill by Foot. Wearing Hooded rags and a Trenchcoat he Is forced to stop at the Giant checkpoint that has been constructed near the Settlement before Continuing on.
New England IVT
He is asked to disclose where he's from, what his purpose is, what weapons he is carrying.
Calgon Raises his hands then lowers them slowly to his Trenchcoat which he opens and Spins around so the Guards can see.
[Calgon] "I am From Cambridge. I am here looking to purchase some Munitions. I only carry with me a Revolver and enough rounds for one reload."
He smiles at the Guards.
[Calgon] "I have heard from some Passing Caravans that if i seek something bunker hill is the place to go. Quite a reputation you have gained with the Traders. I hope this is proven accurate."
The guard looks at him curiously. "Cambridge, you say?" He asks you to step out of line for a pat-down search.
Calgon Smiles and Agrees to the Pat down search. After all he has nothing to hide on his body.
Currently the only things in his possession are the Revolver he already Disclosed along with the additional ammo and the caps he meant to spend at bunker hill. Not a bunch but a considerable amount tucked into a Bag that is tied around his waist.
[Calgon] "By all means. Safety is a Top priority. Can never be too careful with all these raider gangs running amok."
He steps out of line and awaits the search.
The guard performs the pat down, then goes to confer with his watch commander. After a few moments he returns and hands him a passport. "Keep that on you at all times," he instructs, then motions for you to go through the gate.
Diplomatic Indemnity, pt. 2
The next day, after a short jaunt from the Bastion to Bunker Hill, the Covenant Marines were released into the marketplace to look around while the Lieutenant went with Elena (having taken over tour-guide duties from the Sole Survivor) to the Weatherby Savings and Loan, now the Headquarters for the NEC Military. The rubble from the launch had been cleared out and some of the more intact offices turned into offices for various military personnel - including General Madsen, O-2, and Priestess Templar Night Glider (though the Templars kept their own barracks in another part of the settlement).
"Lieutenant Dresden, good to see you again," Madsen greeted the Marine. "Now, I understand you've asked to be briefed on what we know about the Tyrants."
"Yes, sir," the Marine replied, deferentially. "I assume that thick file on your desk is your intelligence on the matter?"
As the Marine read through the reports, Madsen launched into a prepared briefing on all they knew about the tyrants - from survivor stories, to rumors on the Raider grapevine, to the recon report prepared by Night Glider. "Now, the Priestess Templar said that the bullet completely obliterated her partner's head, leading her to believe that it was a .50 caliber shot."
"So they Tyrants don't seem all that bad," Lieutenant Dresden commented. "I see here a report that they treat conquered villages gently, so long as they don't make trouble. They even gave out some caps to a starving village?"
"Yes, the Tyrants are merciful to their serfs," Madsen remarked dryly, "But they're ferocious in combat. The wild card is her new underboss - some psycho known as the Flower Child. All reports say that he and his tribe - or raider group or whatever you want to call it - are both bloodthirsty and completely mad. There's a report in there from a survivor of his attack on Lawrence, Massachusetts. It's not pretty."
Lieutenant Dresden nodded slowly. "The threat certainly does seem credible," he murmured. "You're surrounded and outnumbered, and your best hope for defense - whoever these Men in Black worked for - seems to have packed up and left." He closed the folder and set it down. "Is there a way to do recon on Nuka World itself?"
Madsen frowned. "It'd be difficult. Night Glider said they have patrols on the area in front of the Transit Center... which would mean we'd either need to go north and try to swing back south, or swing south into the Glowing Sea and then back north again. And we don't know what kind of patrols they have in their intervening territory."
"What about your Vertibird?" Dresden inquired. "That ought to be able to make a quick insertion and just as quick an extraction."
"Our pilot is green and the only one we have, I'm not risking her on a recon mission deep into hostile territory."
Dresden nodded thoughtfully. "I understand." He stood up. "In any case, I'm told you have a reactor you'd be willing to share with us. If I might be shown it..."
"Of course," Madsen replied.
Nodding his head he takes the passport and tucks it into his pocket.
[Calgon] "Much thanks Gentlemen. Keep up the good work. At least there are some out there doing their part to make Commonwealth a safer place."
Smiling he passes through the Checkpoint and into bunker hill.
It was certainly a much more bustling place than he was used to. Certainly not Diamond city but a nice slice of Urban living in an otherwise Desolate and Isolated Location. Well isolated unless you consider various hostile creatures and mutants to be Neighbors. Walking around he looked for the weapons vendor and finally caught sight of of one.
Approaching the Vendor he Smiled at him and gave a warm greeting.
[Calgon] "Hey friend! I hear you are the one to go to for Munitions. Best place outside of Diamond City if you listen to what the Caravans say."
Boston Commonwealth, the Castle
Flying at top speed, the 15 Gunships were as Valkyries, descending upon their enemies. As soon as the Vertibirds were within range, flashes filled the air as missiles launched from their tubes sped toward their targets at the Castle. Soon after the Vertibirds Gatling lasers opened up, heavy energy weapon fire raking the artillery crews and guard patrols on the forts walls, as missiles exploded in the courtyard or on the radio tower.
New Decandsor, Ardentus, and Bayoux
DRY ROCK GULCH
(Background Music: https://youtu.be/3kJ989YAPVU)
Flower Child had came down from the tower, wearing a deranged looking jester costume. He went down to the middle of Dry Rock Gulch, he ordered some Sentinels to grab two of the most worthless slaves they have. Two males were brought to Flower, he sat down on his other throne made from skeletal bones and metal. He unsheathed his Machete, grabbing a slave's collar, yanking him towards him. He slammed the Machete forward as the slave was yanked towards him, the Machete pierced through his stomach. Flower looked up at the slave's facial expressions of agony and pain, as he roughly twisted the Machete, low pitched grumbling was heard from Flower has he ripped the Machete in his stomach. He pulled the Machete out of his gut, watching him fall to his knees. He slammed the Machete into his neck, it getting stuck, Flower yelled in frustration as he began to brutally kick the half-way decapitated head, the snapping and cracking of bones were heard at every kick. He then ripped the Machete out of his neck and slammed it into his chest, slamming his foot into the blade, making it go deeper. The slave fell over, brutally murdered. He glared at the other slave, taking out a .44 revolver. He bashed his head with the handle, sending him to the floor. He aimed it down and emptied all rounds into his head. He holstered the .44 Magnum and sat back down. He sighed, replying with only one word.
[Flower Child] "Well, that was boring."
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Lionel-Groulx Metro station, Montréal | 2160 | Snowy, 3 C° | "Debts collecting" Part 1
EDWARD RILEY
Cold.
My world could be described with just that word.
It wasn't about passing cold, cool or just a little wind, it was pure cold, but the world i was in, knew nothing else but that feeling.
I had been living underground for years, like everyone else in my station. Our grandparents had taken refuge in the Montréal Metro when the Great War broke out, the only refuge that people found in a desperate attempt to stick to life. The metro and its stations became our home, but with the passing of the years mutants, radiation and wars between stations threatened our existence. A city of almost 2 million inhabitants soon found itself reduced to only about 20,000 individuals, scattered in the numerous underground stations and railway lines, divided by ideals, weapons and borders.
Our world narrowed more and more every day ...
The cold we knew was the same that accompanied every metro resident every day. Without the light of the sun our bodies trembled among the cold chills, forcing us to repose the stations to little bonfires for warm up to survive. Of course, to find relief it would have been enough to get out of this hell hole to enjoy the golden rays of the fireball in the sky, but ... that splendid sphere hadn't shone for quite a while in the skies of Montréal. The atomic bombing had raised radioactive dust in the area, which for 80 years covered the sun and its heat, forcing humanity to live in the most complete frost of the nuclear winter, while the surface was radiated by an atomic bomb that hit the area south-east out of our city.
We were literally trapped.
...
Said Mark suddenly, shaking my body to wake me up as soon as possible. I stood up stunned, but my head slammed on the rudimentary bed built above me where my "neighbor" lived.
I replied in pain, putting a hand on the spot where I had hit my head.
I said, getting out of bed. It was convenient as getting out of bed was also like leaving the house. The Lionel-Groulx station was the most beautiful in the metro and the most populated, and as such a hundred people lived in the Capital of the United stations of Stratyos, the faction in which I was born and raised. To allow people to live in the station, the head of Stratyos, Johnatan Krukov, decided that the houses had to be considerably reduced, making people live in a space of 90 cm x 2,20 meters made up of four metal sheets or pieces of wood, two makeshift beds and a sliding door. In short: we lived like rats. The rich and the political and military leaders, on the other hand, lived in real luxury homes on the upper floor of the station, being able to afford even a space considerably larger than several meters. At first it pissed a lot, but the more you got used to it, the less you got sick.
So I walked towards the upper floor of the station with Mark, walking in the slums of the lower floor where the rest of the population, me too, lived. Drugs sale, prostitution, black market and crime were the order of the day, but Krukov didn' t care: as long as he didn' t see, nothing official happened, leaving hundreds of people of the stations of Stratyos in corruption and poverty.
Mark explained, walking inside the chaotic crowd.
I asked, annoyed for the stupid job they were calling us mercenaries for.
Even though Stratyos was one of the most powerful factions in the metro it didn't mean that everyone loved it. For 20 years the situation with the Republic of the Eastern stations was in a pitiful state, the belligerents went from a state of truce to one of war every year, putting even diplomats and ambassadors in chaos. My father, who survived the first years of the war, told me that at the beginning the conflict was much more violent, using even some vehicles called "Tanks", armored railway carts equipped with explosive weapons, but after a few years the conflict became only a binocular war. Even if the two factions were at war, not even a bullet was fired. It was just a war of looks on defensive positions and spies.
>> Montrèal Metro Map: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/533440597135065090/633264986952695809/Montreal_Metro_map.png
===============================================================================================
New Decandsor, Ardentus, Liberated New Arizona, Bayoux, and 1 otherNew England IVT
Post self-deleted by Liberated New Arizona.
(Since Fort Independence is only five or six miles as the crow flies)
The men at the Libertalia hear the explosions and see the vertibirds in the sky zooming around the area like a pack of seagulls attacking a fish. Not knowing whose vertibirds they are, Maria comes to one conclusion. "Get on the radio!" she screams at one of her underbosses. "Tell Bunker Hill that the Tyrants have vertibirds, and they're bombing Boston!"
The radio call comes in as General Madsen is still conferring with the Lieutenant about possibly joining a Smash and Grab mission. They look at each other in alarm when the aide comes in to inform them about the call. Madsen immediately rushes to the radio room (basically a single ham radio with a long iron pole for an antenne) and grabs the mike. "Libertalia, this is General Madsen, authorization code CM-01. What's going on?"
"There's a bunch of vertibirds flying over the Boston Harbor," Maria responds. "Judging by the explosions and the light show in the distance, they're blowing the place up!"
Madsen turned to the Lieutenant. "Lieutenant, I'm sorry, but we need to get out of here now."
Dresden nodded. "Do you think we can establish contact with my superiors? I can contact them while you ready your sub for the first transport."
Madsen thought a moment. "We might. There's a bit of technology we'll need to grab first. If you'd like, you can lead the mission, we'll send a guide."
"Just point me in the right direction."
While the Marines head west to secure the technology, Bunker Hill becomes a flurry of activity as a group of dwellers/settlers pack up to leave. 20 soldiers and 140 dwellers leave in a caravan to the Libertalia, where they cram themselves into the Yangtze. The Yangtze departs, submerging to travel underwater.
Crazy Dave looks around, then leans in and whispers, "You're in luck, neighbor. I just so happen to have one of those Doom Shrooms in stock. Wipe out a whole mess of ferals! Be careful around it, though, don't want to be in the blast radius!" He chuckles a little loonily. "150 caps or 15 Vault Coins, neighbor."
Post self-deleted by Liberated New Arizona.
Calgon Reached into the bag and handed Dave 150 caps.
[Calgon] "Safety is my Speciality. Could you throw in three Grenades preferably Plasma while your at it?"
"Ooh, that reminds me, neighbor, would you be interested in a crop of potato grenades?" He pulls out a potato with a small nitroglycerin charge dug into it. "Only 10 caps apiece!"
Calgon looked the Potato Grenades over.
[Calgon] "I'll take Three of those and 3 Plasma Grenades."
He reaches into the bag and counts out the Appropriate caps placing them onto the Counter.
"I don't have any plasma grenades, I do have some... normal grenades," he says distastefully.
Calgon gave an equally distasteful look.
[Calgon] "I suspect those will have to do."
«12. . .2,4352,4362,4372,4382,4392,4402,441. . .2,8912,892»
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