It is 2082 and after five years, the Capital is changing. The Brotherhood with the support of the Lone Wanderer assaulted Raven Rock and destroyed the base. Yet in the light of the attack, the Enclave launched a counterassault upon Citadel with its Vertibirds killing many of the Brotherhood members. The Enclave retreated to Adams to heal and the power of Lyons Brotherhood was weakened.

In the next five years, factions have risen to dominance as city states. Megaton has grown larger while the Outcasts are readying for an attack on the weakened Lyons Brotherhood over its long doctrinal differences. Tenpenny Towers grew to absorbing the Warrington Train yard/Station becoming a regional power while Girdershade has grown into powerful trading hub for incoming Eastern traders, and similarly Canterbury Common becoming a Hub for all Capital Wasteland trade. These city states have grown in large power, becoming inlfuenctial in the Capital wastes. In the end, a storm is brewing as each faction whether or not, set their sights upon claiming Columbia, and sitting upon its thrones ruling its entire lands.

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Thread Two!

Robert Dobbs – Adams AFB

Sutler seemed to be taken by surprise by what Dobbs had to say. He stopped and listened impassively until Dobbs was finished. The expression of manic rage on his face faded away, replaced by interest....and calculation. For a moment that seemed to drag out for forever to Dobbs, he considered what he had heard. Finally his internal conflict reached a resolution.

"The Institute," Sutler said finally, continuing his pacing. "It is not something we are unfamiliar with, Brotherhood of Steel personnel I've had the pleasure of entertaining here have made scant mention of the place; a supposed technological haven in the equally nebulous "Commonwealth". And you honestly believe yourselves, or rather your clients, to have the capacity to safely transport and power the pods cryogenic capabilities all the way back to where-ever? Towed on a cart by some of your wasteland Bra-men perhaps? Could we do it? Of-course, isn't over an hour flight between here and the Vault, we could probably run the pod in that time directly from the Vertibird's engines before hooking it up to our main supply here; of-course we'd have no way to interact with him here..."

“Moving him from Vault 112 to the Institute would be a formidable technical challenge”, admitted Dobbs, “but really, that just made the project more appealing to them. First, they would have to get him out of his Lounger and into some sort of transportable container without killing him. Then it needs to be kept powered for the journey...which would take weeks by land, or days by sea. Sea travel these days has it’s own unique risks, but it seems to me to be the most practicable. By air would be the preferred method…but sadly, that isn’t an option. Once at the Institute, the rest would be routine.”

“Your client has VR capacity then?" Sutler asked inquisitively of Dobbs. "Where exactly is this Institute based? Sounds like it must be a military facility with a training component, they utilized this technology more than anyone before the war."

“Boston”, Dobbs replied. “The Commonwealth is what Massachusetts is called these days….while more habitable than the Capital Wasteland, it is every bit as lawless. What is now the Institute began as the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. MIT wasn’t hit, they, along with the surviving faculty of the other Boston area Universities…Harvard, Boston U, Tufts…banded together in the days after the War, at first just to survive…the first few years after the War were the worst.”

“They have a good knowledge of VR at the Institute…”, Dobbs continued, “…as MIT and Harvard had helped research it before the War, both on it’s own and sponsored by VSS, the Space Administration, and the War Department. The Space Administration was interested in it as a possibility for long term space travel….the idea was to save on life-support costs by putting the crew into cryogenic suspension, connected to a persistent VR sim to keep their minds occupied during proposed multi-year space missions to Mars or further afield. I have to wonder if Vault 112’s experiment was intended to supplement that research. In any case, Dr Braun is a prime example of what can go wrong with such an approach….the data on the experiment is grim reading. He would have kept the Institute’s psychiatrists busy for quite some time…if things had gone differently, of course.”

"I wouldn't be so hasty about your mission, Mister Dobbs," Sutler said. "I personally have no use for Dr Braun, presuming he cannot be removed from the simulation his value is negligible to us; however, we could certainly assist your "Institute" in his relocation to their facility."

“You would?”, asked Dobbs. “It would greatly simplify things if you were so kind as to provide an airlift…but there is the question of what you’d like in return.”


Mr Johnson – Paradise Falls

"I don't believe so," Clover suddenly interjected, "The girl called 'Bumble' was already sold. To a different buyer. I conducted the transaction myself. 'Bumble' I believe, was a girl of about eleven. Very timid."

Clover then picked up the list that Johnson had brought and scanned it over quickly, thumbing her finger next to each name, she shook her head after a few moments,

"All of the children named here have been sold. So the girl is not on the list."

"I apologize Mr. Johnson," Crowley said, "Had Littlehorn contacted the Falls sooner, I would have been happy to do business with him. As it is however, it would appear your journey here was for naught, that is of course, unless you are interested in purchasing the young girl regardless? I'm afraid its the only offer I can make. My contracts are always final and cannot be rescinded."

"Should you wish to consider it," he continued, "The price is 500 caps. Otherwise, unless you have other business you would wish discuss, I assume our negotiation here will be concluded."

Johnson considered the offer. While six was young, time would heal the trauma of being brought here…and the charade that would be staged for the benefit of her soon to be foster mother….quicker.

“Five hundred is fair”, Johnson said as he reached into his satchel and pulled out five bags, then placed them on the desk. “I will take her. For confidentiality purposes Mr Littlehorn requires 24 hours to arrange for a third party pickup….if this would cause undue convenience, he is willing to provide compensation…also, he would like the Bill of Sale made out in the name of ‘Charles Gordon’.” He then pulled out a collar, sized for a child, and placed it on the table. “He also requests that this collar, and only this collar, be used on her.” He then produced a detonator. “To explain, the collar is inert…may I?” Johnson asked. Once permission was received, he pressed the detonate button. The light on the collar blinked three times, but did not detonate. ”A necessary charade...her mother to be is not aware the girl was purchased for her, a fact the Client does not want ever to be brought to her attention. To that end, a charade will be carried out….and Mr Littlehorn does not want any accidents. This is what I was alluding to earlier.”

After finalizing the transaction and receiving the Bill of Sale, Johnson left the Falls and headed back for Scrapyard. The Old Man would be disappointed, but the trip had not been a total bust.

Moira Brown - De Burgo

Moira Brown was wearing a vault suit and had a knapsack. She had her bodyguard with her who was wearing leather armour and had a shotgun. He never talked and she never bothered him. Moira was glad that Junior was talking to her again, they used to be such good friends, but then Junior started to pay more attention to work than games. She was going to make him proud by getting him his Fusion Pulse Charge.

She walked up to a guard who looked to be from De Burgo. She said to him in a very friendly voice.

"Well hello there stranger, I need to do some business with a Mr. De Burgo."

Adam Monroe at the Megaton

Adam looked at the guard and stepped forward at the accusation that the regulators killed someone they were supposed to protect,

"Don't you dare accuse the regulators of anything" his voice was harsh

Adam spoke,

"This fee, will be payed every month, on the day, not one day later... you understand me?"

He then spoke harsher,

"Do not expect any favors from the regulators until this fee is completely payed"

He then took the 1000 caps that were payed up front and put them in his back pack,

"Do not forget your payment"

With that he turned around and walked away with his men following close behind, their weapons still in hand

John Birch - Megaton

Birch looked at the man as he handed him his caps. He then said to him

"Do not worry, a Moriarty always pays his debts."

Junior was sitting in his office thinking.

I have won the battle, now the war for Megaton's survival begins. I need to play the game right if I will survive.

He looked at his new servant Cassandra,whom he had taken a liking too.

"Would care to share a meal with me?"

ooc: I assume Billy wasn’t killed? .... Crow will be arriving later.

James Wilson- Merchant Union

James and Monroe made their way into Megaton despite the amount of guards roaming around and people, including Billy Creel busy cleaning up from the takeover the pair were pretty much ignored they made their way to the saloon but this could have also been down to the fact Monroe had power armour on…

Good to see Billy is still alive…

Approaching the Salon James noticed a regulator shouting at the man standing outside the door before storming off with his guards…. in recent years the regulators had turned from wasteland protectors into bounty hunters

The downside to this and the Brotherhoods weaken state meant that their wasn’t really a main force fighting the Talons, slavers & raiders which always drew up demand for weapons and Ammo from both sides…. Sure they fought still but not as often with James would prefer if they went back to their roots…

Should they really be called regulators anymore?

As the regulator left James approached the door man, James knew the man as one of late senior Colin’s employees John who he had seen when he James had been delivering supplies to Colin senior although unsure he was working for Junior he was blocking the entrance to the saloon.

“Hello I am James Wilson of the Merchant Union I wish to speak to Colin junior about Megaton's trade relationship with the Union..” James stated to John.