» Sat May 28, 2011 4:39 pm Hamilton sat straight in the chair, his legs gracefully crossed and his hands resting upon his knee. Although mildly miffed with only having Sutler’s back to face, Hamilton retained his pleasant expression and spoke.
“I do apologise if you’ve more pressing matters to attend to, Mr. President, though I’ve realised that, as of late, barely infinitesimal progress has been made during our Cabinet meetings,” Hamilton said genially, if not somewhat meekly, the words flowing from his mouth like a soft music. “Of course, it’s not my wish to throw the blame, but with all due respect to our good Colonel, he’s gotten into a nasty habit of derailing our conferences with his asinine rantings. However impressive said rants may be, his proposal of a ‘United Wasteland’ is ludicrous, and the very mention of such an idea does nothing but rouse indignation within the Cabinet; from there, we’re then plunged into a state pointless bickering, nothing achieved.” Hamilton paused for a brief moment with the hope of catching his escaping breath. “Basically, Mr. President, I feel now is an appropriate time to discuss ‘the Project’, minus the interruptions and conflictions. If nothing else, we’ll at least achieve a sense of civility which has been largely absent, as of late.”
Hamilton uncrossed his legs and edged closer towards Sutler’s desk. “Anyway, down to brass tacks. As Secretary of Homeland Development, I feel that not only is it my duty to preside over the well-being of the Enclave as an organisation, but to the American people, also. True humanity. You and I, we are obligated to cleanse the world of these teterrimous beings rauaging the land above. However, the lamentable truth is, the Enclave’s numbers are… well, not quite sufficient for such a Herculean task. Thankfully, Chicago’s forces have been dispatched to our location, as you informed us not too long ago. Though, the need to bolster our numbers will still linger once they arrive, and due to this, it’s necessary for us to expand. More specifically, the citizens of Vault 110, one of the few clusters of pure humanity remaining, I feel must be repatriated. Chances are they’ve formed a cosy close-knit, possibly isolationist society, though I see little reason why they’d turn down the chance to become official United States citizens; an alliance, or rather, a unity would be mutually beneficial. I-“ Hamilton paused, his eyes caught a glimpse of the time on his watch.
“Oh, dear, it appears I’ve been rambling. Apologies, Mr President,” Hamilton stumbled, feigning a chuckle to conceal his embarrassment. “Digressions aside, I wish to know our progress on contacting Vault 110, or if we’ve reached any communication at all, if that’s quite all right with you? Truly, I’d much prefer to avoid appearing impetuous, but judging from Eyebot reports on wasteland affairs, our enemies grow stronger with each waking day. I believe I speak for every American citizen when I say the ‘Project’ must be a swift movement for it work efficaciously. You’ve built upon the ideas of Richardson and formulated a most excellent plan, Mr. President; it’s just I fear that there’s a chance you’ll not have the opportunity to see the results of your efforts.”
Hamilton began to sweat slightly. Should I have just said that? By God, what’ll happen if he takes offence? What about my career?
“Again, I am sorry for stealing your private time, Mr. President, but it’s all in good faith, I assure you.” Hamilton rolled the chair backwards on his wheels and resumed his graceful posture, his thumbs fidgeting slightly.
