Vault 0.

Traven stands watching a technician working on the fusion generator with an annoyed and concerned look upon his face. Annoyed in part at the flickering emergency lighting. Annoyed they have been living in these horrid conditions for 7 months. Annoyed that Barnakey has been almost silent and reclusive, and he worried for the morale of his Lord.

The technician pauses and looks up, wiping sweat and grease off his face.

"I just can't figure it out sir. Power output is only 30%, and for the life of me I don't know what is wrong. The entire system may be nothing more than a few tons of scrap."

Traven's thought was interrupted by his Paladin guards, Hobbes and Colsten.

"Sir, Lord General Barnakey requests your immediate audience.", Paladin Hobbes said.

The Paladins escort Traven down the long corridor to Barnakey's War Room. Inside, awaits Barnakey and Inquisitor Praxx, both standing over a holographic map of the Unites States, which flickers from time to time from the limited power in the Vault.

Barnakey's robotic head turns towards Traven as he enters. "Please, Brother, be seated. We have...much to discuss."

"Indeed we do," sneers Praxx with a mocking grin, "I see your technicians have failed to restore power to any form of working order. Perhaps discipline is in order, motiva.."

"ENOUGH!," shouts Barnakey, his robotic voice filled with anger. "We have been the targets of a viscous attack, bickering will get us nowhere."

"My Lord," Praxx bows his head, and remains silent.

Barnakey's hand reaches out to the map, and he touches Montana, which brings up an enlarged map pf the State.

"I know you men have been worried. Perhaps...that I...lost...my belief. I have been computing for months the nature of this attack. At first, I thought the Western Brotherhood, or that NCR had initiated this strike. But, I fear they lack the technology...to strike such a devastating blow. Brothers, I...I fear we have a new enemy. Traven, your thoughts?"