Ivan Volkov

I knew I was dreaming.

It had the feeling of dream, but I couldn't escape. I couldn't run, how could I? I was in a boat after all. A small wooden one, a skiff if you will, it bobbed up and down on a gentle current, cutting through the water like scissors cutting paper.

More mysterious was the figure rowing the boat. It was covered in a large gray cloak, wrapping it's body from head to toe, making it's figure a mystery. But I don't think it needed the cloak, it seemed that the shadows themselves wrapped around him like a shawl, absorbing any of the dim light that touched him.

I wanted to say something, but what there was to say? Instead I let my hand trail in the water, making little ripples that disturbed the otherwise, smooth surface. Suddenly I heard some strange creaking and the rustle of dead leaves.

It took me a moment before I realized that it was in fact the things voice.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Death,” I said. It seemed like a weird thing to say, but this whole dream was weird.

The figures shoulders shook a little and I could almost see it grinning to itself.

“You wish. Death is a stranger, but I am your best friend, remember me Jack?”

I stiffened, the name felt cold and unfriendly, like an unwanted guest.

“My name is Ivan.”

“Yes, I know that. But do you remember me? Remember your old pal Nikon, do you Jack?”

Nikon. The name seemed friendly and warm, it felt good on the tongue, like some kind of fancy treat. The figure moved it's hand to it's hood, it moved slowly like we were underwater, not on top of it. As the hood fell down and the shadows shifted, the warm and friendly feeling fled.

A croak escaped me, I couldn't scream, my throat tightened, my hands clenched so hard enough to cut the skin. I could feel the goosebumps on my arms and the cold sweat on my forehead. My body was shaking, but I couldn't feel it, I was numb with fear.

It's a dream. Just a dream. You don't die in your dreams.

“Are you sure about that Jack? People die all the time in their sleep.”

“My name IS NOT JACK!”

I shouted not out of anger, but out of fear. I was terrified that this...this thing called me a friend.

Plop.

I looked down, a piece of rotten flesh lay at Nikon's feet. I slowly looked up.

He was smiling, it twisted his already disfigured face. His skin was rotten, falling off in strips, some of them hanging off his chin. His left eye was hanging from it's socket, but it still turned to looked at him. The top piece of his nose had already fallen off, his left temple had been pushed in. Small pieces of brain were leaking it out, it wasn't all pink like he thought. Some of it was yellow.

“Sorry about that, Jack.”

He bent down a picked up the fallen strip of rotten meat. He dangled it front of my face, I tried desperately to back up, but there was no where to go. I looked nervously at him, he began to laugh, it sounded like a dog barking.

“You the one who did this Jack, don't be sacred.”

He leaned back and opened him mouth wide, and popped the piece of flesh in like how someone would eat popcorn. I gagged, and felt my stomach churning. I stood up quickly and the boat rocked harder, I noticed the current had picked up. It was no longer gently, in fact it was quite rough.

“Where you going Jack, take your seat.”

“MY NAME IS IVAN!”

“I know,” he whispered.

And with that he shook the boat violently, I titled to the side and tumbled overboard. I fell into the water with a splash, it wasn't so cool and clear as it was just moments ago. It was scalding hot and dark, it was burning my skin off me.

“Ahhh!”

I shouted, but that was a bad idea, the liquid filled my throat. It felt just like coffee right out of the pot, I couldn't just feel my flesh searing, I could smell it. I struggled to swim back up, but the water felt like a heavy weight, it pushed me down farther and farther. Down...Down....Down.

=Day 1. Mid-Afternoon=

I woke up gasping for breath, nearly choking on the air itself.

“Easy there youngster,” a soft voice, like wool, spoke in my ear.

I jumped despite it's soothing tone.

“I ain't going to hurt you boy.”

I turned my head and felt dry blood crackle, it was an alarming amount. I placed my hand against my left cheek, I regretted it instantly. A yelp escaped as a flash of hot pain soared through my temple. I could feel a dull, throbbing headache coming on, probably would be there for the rest of the day.

“They got you pretty good, boy.”

I was now able to look at the old man, he was scary thing, his tattered outfit was just hanging off of him, like he was just made of sticks or something.

“You kidding Dewey? They beat the [censored] out of him, just look at his face, it's disgusting!”

“Thanks,” I mumbled to cool female voice. I struggled to stand up, but was almost bowled over by waves of nausea. Luckily for me the old man caught me just before I fell over, after he helped steadied me, I tired to look over my surroundings.

I was in some kind of pen, a fence ran to my left that separated me from some other people. It took me a moment to realize that they were all female.

Separate holding pens. Like were some kind of animal.

Alarm spread through me, I grabbed the old man's arm,

“Where I'm I?”

He looked down on me sadly and just shook his head.

“Where I'm I?”

The female voice behind spoke up, but this time it devoid of the cool tone it had early, now it was just cold. Like a human robot.

“Paradise Falls.”

Mieux was enjoying the view when the balcony intercom buzzed, "Mr. Mieux." Mieux sighed, expecting something dumb, "Yes, what is it?" He said, uncaring, and loftily. "Well, you got a message from the owner of that caravan company, Howard." He simply shrugged, though no one could see it, "And?" The voice said hestitantly, "Well, it's Talon Company thats been killing his caravans." Mieux simply scoffed, "And I care because? The attacks happened outside my land, and they aren't my caravans, and Talon Company is playing it smart, they arent invading, at least not until that Talon idiot came waltzing in here a few hours ago, but beyond that, they arent trespassing, and I'm not picking the fight, I wont do anything until Talon Company does, but if that Talon spy comes back, I want her shot on sight. That's an order." The man on the intercom said, "Oh, that won't make that caravan owner happy." Mieux simply shrugged, "Don't worry, I'll sort it out," He smirked wide and said confidently, "I always do."

"Excuse, me," TPT-006 beeped as it walked outside the Lobby, observing the gates for a moment. A trader could be seen walking toward Megaton, and a few other wastewanders here and there. The machine walked very slowly to the intercom, the light on it's head turning blue as it slowly set a hand under the intercom, being careful to not press the talk button. "Nothing, to see, here." TPT beeped as the gate-guard stared with a very confused look, "Just, maintenance. Of a special variety."

"...Uh..." the guard scratched his head, "should I call the boss?"

Monroe

Outside Fort Constantine

Monroe raised the Automatic Rifle to his shoulder, and fired at the effigy of a supermutant 50 yards away, emptying the 20 round magazine in short bursts as the customer, a buyer for Talon Company, watched the target with interest through binoculars. "Not bad shooting", thought the Merc, noticing most of the rounds had hit the target, and the first burst had removed it's head. "Especially for a Raider. But then Ashur has the ammo to spare to train his men."

"Do you want to try it?", said Monroe to the merc as he changed magazines then offered the weaopn to him. "It's gas-operated so the kick isn't as bad as you'd expect. It's a pre-war design...as far as we can tell it was a obsolete Army weapon popular with Police and private security. We went into full production last year, merc companies from here to Ronto have been buying them like 'lurk cakes."

"Certainly", said the merc as he accepted the weapon and examined it. On the side of the receiver

was stamped:

US RIFLE, AUTOMATIC MODEL 2040A3
CALIBER .308
THE PITT
2-2274
No. F0301

Aside from the "A" proof stamp and selector switch and sight markings, there was no other marks on the rifle, which appeared to be in new condition. "Made just a few months ago", thought the merc. "It's amazing that someone is actually producing new things." He then raised it to his shoulder and fired at the target, noting with satisfaction he hit it at least as many times as the Raider had. "Not bad", said the merc as he removed the magazine and placed the empty weapon on the table beside them, "But how does it do against things that can fight back?".

Monroe smiled, he had hoped the merc would say that and had something already lined up. "I would be happy to demonstrate that for you personally. Come with me". Monroe picked up the rifle, inserted another magazine then together they walked back through the gates into Ft. Constantine, towards one of the pens in what had once been a parking lot. Unlike the pens where the meat was kept, this one had a raised platform around it so people could look over the top of it's 10 foot walls to view what was going on inside. Against one side was a old steel shipping container that from the noises appeared to have an animal of some sort inside it. "Head on up..", said Monroe as he gestured to one of the ladders to the platform. "and I'll show you the faith we have in what we make". Monroe then walked into the pen, the guards closing the door behind him, and prepared himself. Once he noted the head of the Talon Company Merc appear over the top of the pen's sheet metal walls, he grinned up at him then turned his attention to the gate at the other side of the pen.

"Alright, Frankie....OPEN THE [censored] GATE!", shouted Monroe. In response to his command, the gate opened, and a Yao Gai loped into the pen, quite displeased by being in a cage and then forced out by a cattle prod. The Yao Gai saw the raider and roared his challenge. "Come and get me, [censored]!", smirked Monroe as he raised the Automatic Rifle to a ready to fire position, "I've got something for you!". It's challenge seemingly ignored, the Yao Gai coiled like a spring and leaped, intent on killing and eating the human before it. But as soon as it began it's leap, Monroe fired a burst into it's chest as he dodged aside. Stunned by the pain of the .308 slugs tearing into it's vitals, it crashed into the side of the pen. Before it could get back on it's feet Monroe placed the muzzle of the rifle against the side of it's head and fired another burst, painting the side of the pen with the Yao Gai's brains. Satisfied the Yao Gai was dead, Monroe walked into the center of the pen and looked up at the Talon Company representative, who wasn't even trying to conceal his astonishment, and grinned. "Does that answer your question?", said Monroe. Seeing the merc nod yes, he continued. "What do you say I have the boys cook this up and we'll talk business."

*Two Hours Later*

"You've convinced me, Monroe.", said the merc between bites of Yao Gai steak. "But Commander Jabsco is going to want to see the weapons applied to...ahem..more conventional foes before making a bulk order. I am authorized to purchase a case of ten rifles for evaluation, if they meet our requirements you can expect a sizable followup order."

"Sounds good to me", said Monroe as he refilled the merc's glass with scotch then poured himself some. "We can fill that from stock, you can take them back to Bannister with you if you have the funds. We'll even give you wholesale pricing for this lot only....1200 caps per. Pricing on future orders depends on what kind of numbers we're talking about. So you know, special orders have a six week lead time right now."

"Fair enough, Twelve thousand caps it is.", said the Merc. "I can make payment now, I'll leave for Fort Bannister in the morning. Betty isn't available, is she?". The merc's eyes glazed over slightly as he mentioned Betty's name.

Betty was one of the hokers Monroe kept around to service the boys and paying customers. Unlike most slaver outfits, by Ashur's order making use of the meat for six was strictly forbidden. Since any Pitt slave could win thier freedom in the Arena, it kept problems such as revenge killings to a minimum....though Monroe suspected Sandra had a lot to do with it as well. To someone with looks to trade, no shame, and/or lack of confidence of thier chances in the Arena, working off a five year Indentured Servitude contract on thier backs (or hands and knees for the boys that play that game) could be more attractive than working the Mill. After the five years, they either choose to go to the Arena, and join the Crew if they win...or are allowed to leave with the portion of thier earnings they were allowed to keep. Betty was a cute redhead that they got from the Falls last year. She leapt at the offer to avoid the Pitt and her enthusiasm and skilled mouth has made her very popular...Monroe guessed she'd be able to buy out her contract a couple years early by the business she did. As a reward for accepting her situation gracefully Monroe had taken her collar off and let her ply her trade freely around the camp. As Talon Company would be a primo customer, he paid Betty's fee himself and sent her to him last night. Monroe wasn't surprised she made an impression. "Sure.", said Monroe. "I'll send her by when you decide to sack out".

*The next morning*

Monroe watched from the porch of the CO's quarters as the gates opened and the Talon Company Representative, his escort and a pack brahmin with the rifles left for thier trip south to Ft. Bannister. 12,000 caps was good money, if they placed a quantity order Ashur would be pleased indeed. As the biggest merc company in the Capital Wasteland, Talon Company went through huge amounts of weapons and ammo. His thoughts were interrupted by a woman's soft, pale arm wrapping around his left arm and pulling him in gently until his arm came into contact with her briast.

"Good morning, Boss.", purred Betty. "Care to buy a working girl a drink?"

"I can do that.", said Monroe. "He say anything interesting?"

"Not much.", she said. "He was actually pretty good so we did more screwing than talking. He did say that Jabsco is keen on a alliance with Eulogy". Monroe noted the disgust in her voice when she mentioned Eulogy, he could guess why. "And that Jabsco sent a emissary right before he left for here."

"Not a big surprise.", shrugged Monroe. "Talon Company has enough enemies as it is, and they don't really have anything to fight about." He then looked down at the petite redhead, who was looking up at him with a slight look of impatience on her pretty face. As she was wearing only a negligee, he had a perfect view of her ample bosom. Noticing she finally had Monroe's full attention, she pressed herself closer to him and smiled while slowly licking her lips. Liking where this was going, he spoke again. "Hungry? I've got a nice hot breakfast sausage inside I'll share with you.", said Monroe suggestively.

"I thought you'd never ask.", Betty breathed huskily. "I'm famished."

Commander Abraham October, Big Town

Abraham October stood on the Big Town bridge staring at the bodies of the recently killed citizens of Big Town. There death was caused by the Enclave. Big Town was to be made into a Enclave Outpost. Octobers right hand man Jacob Lawson walked up to him, Lawson was a tall man standing at seven feet tall, he was slim and wore an Enclave Officer Uniform. It suited his evil look well.

“Commander October, the citizens have been disposed off and Ryans has just finished calling in three Vertibirds.” said Lawson.
“Who is in these Vertibirds?” asked October.
“The first vertibird is some scientists with equipment they are going to be setting up in the town, the second vertibird more equipment and some soldiers to fix up the town and as for the third it will be all soldiers.”
“Good job Lawson. By noon tomorrow we will have ourselves an outpost.”
“And a strategic one.” added Lawson.

John Shepard and Garrus, Paradise Falls

The two assassins arrived at Paradise Falls, they were standing outside he only entrance, two traders were coming towards the place with pack Brahmins, many people were afraid to go near Paradise Falls but traders who had the guts usually ended up becoming a member of the Falls family and given there own guards. It was the slavers way of thanking them for the supplies. John started to walk into Paradise Falls but was stopped.

“Why the [censored] you doing? How the [censored] did you make that mutie not crazy?” asked the slaver, he was confused and slightly terrified.
“Shut up human, not all of us are crazy.” barked Garrus.
“Garrus like I have said before it is best if you keep your mouth closed in front of other humans.”

Garrus closed his mouth and waited for John to finish.

“If it is such a problem Garrus can stay here. He doesn’t need to come in anyways.”
“Well what the [censored] are you here for?” asked the Guard.

He still had his gun pointed at John. John looked at the makeshift platforms that filled the only road into Paradise Falls, on the actual platforms where stacked sandbags and slavers with sniper rifles and hunting rifles all pointed at Garrus and Shepard. The slavers were prepared for any attack.

“I am here to make a deal with Eulogy. No offence but I prefer your leader be the only one who knows about my organization.” replied John.

“Fine pass on through. Any funny business and we’ll either put a color on your neck and chuck you in a pen or do I the quick way and kill you.”

“I don’t have funny business on my agenda.”

John walked into Paradise Falls, it was crowded with slavers. The main population was at the bar which was conveniently right beside a boxing ring. They made slaves fight each other for there amusemant. Damn which the bunker had a boxing ring.. John went into Eulogy’s pad, a woman dressed in only panties sat at the front desk.

“Um hello?” said John with a confused look “Is it um normal for woman to be topless around here because if it is I think I want to change my career.”

“Ha ha your funny! So you here for Eulogy or something a little more… well you know.” replied the girl.

“Um thanks for the offer but I am here for business only, maybe another time.”

“Whenever your ready honey.”

Eulogy came into the lobby wearing a rob, he was the king of Paradise Falls.

“Hello, you here to buy a slave?” asked Eulogy.

“No. I have come here to do business. I am a representative of a powerful faction in the wastes, one that has killed nearly as much people as the Talon Company.”

“The Company?” Guessed Eulogy.

“Correct.” replied John.

“So does the Company want to buy slaves or sell them?”

“Neither, we are not here to sell people to you and slaves would get in the way. We are very organized and small when it comes to giving out contracts. The actual assassin work is very hectic as it is and adding slaves would push us over board.”

“I want full command of your slavers. I will not take them all but most of them will be geared properly and get mobilized. I am going to turn you slavers into an army and we will conquer the wastes all you have to do is agree.”

“You want to turn my men into front line soldiers? They are slavers! They pick small groups off! If you haven’t noticed we have focused on defence. Why do you think Paradise Falls is like a [censored] fortress! ”

“Eulogy you underestimate the Company. We have our way of getting things done. Trust me I can make your soldiers killing machines in a week. We take out the D.C. Syndicate. Scouts have found out they operate out of Corvega we will surround the factory and then breach and clear. They won’t see it coming.”

“Your insane!”

“Eulogy do not refuse my offer again. You don’t know what the company is capable of.”

“You screw up once and I will make it my duty to end the company.”

“Good choice Eulogy. Good choice.”

[[???]]

The Observer's eyes drooped for a moment, he about to fall asleep as he observed the monitor that was viewing TPT-006's activity. The Protectron was simply standing near a intercom, poking at it and trying to make small talk with one of the Tower's gate guards.

"This won't do", he thought to himself, his fingers setting themselves on the keyboard, "That little robot is bound to make whoever is in charge of the tower know that something is really wrong with his machine. Best if we just..." he pressed on the magic ~ key, bringing up the tiny command menu again


TPT-006 Control Menu
//SC...

"Now, what were the numbers?" he muttered, his gloved fingers tapping the number keys as he stared at the menu, "Ahh yes. No numbers, simply...." his fingers tapped against the keys.

//SC:Play Dead


"Oh no, I have been hit," a machine-like voice said from speakers surrounding the giant monitor, the view of TPT-006 going to the sky as clunking could be heard. One of the gate guard's face came into view as he prodded at the robot.

"We otta just turn this one into scrap metal." the voice of the guard said through the speakers, The Observer giving off a smirk. If things went according to plan, he would be able to get control of a better robot. If they went through with the scrap metal idea though. That could be problematic, to say the least.

"Now then, let us see what my other toys have found," The Observer said quietly, pressing the tab key. The monitors view changed to the gates of Megaton, where he could see a caravan a few yards ahead. Pressing the tab key again and he found himself staring at the inside of the Super-Duper Mart, though what appeared to be stained glass messed up his view. He pressed the tab key one final time to find himself staring at Big Town... or what he thought to be Big Town anyways.

The view was sideways, and static kept on bursting through the middle. The audio was poor, The Observer barely able to make out the distant voices emitting from the speakers.

"Commander October... disposed of.. finished calling.. Vertibirds... first vertibird is some scientist... setting up in town...." whatever was said afterwords was drowned out by the sound of static. The Observer had heard enough however. There was only one group of people in the world he could think of that possibly owned Vertibirds. One he had much experience with from the past. One he would rather not have to deal with again.

"So... Eden. They finally have you running?" he muttered, pressing the tab key to find himself staring through the Securitrons vision again, "That's alright. Soon enough, Ill have myself some friends that can help me reprogram you. You and the entire system that you were built to help run. That's why they used to call me The Programmer after all."

He gave off a small chuckle, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. All he had to do was wait for that Securitron to be taken to repair. Maybe if he was lucky, the Sentry Bot he had placed in Big Town would be repaired by the same people that destroyed it.

Mieux came back in from the balcony, listening to the quiet flow of the AC unit in the penthouse level as he walked from the only balcony door left accessible. The rest having been bricked over. He walked down the hall to the security room, where the Changs used to live, he sat down with a sip of coffee from the pot, ready to tap some more keys, boringly watch security cameras while listening to Three Dog on the radio. He glanced at the robotics screen, which portrayed all recent command outputs. "What the-" He looked closely to make sure his server was reading this right, "Manual command output '//SC:Play Dead'. I sure as hell didn't put that command in, and my network is VERY secure...." He started to think aloud, "Someone with knowhow is in my network." He figured he'd flush them out. With a few taps of the keyboard, he said aloud while typing speedily, "/C: Commands/MasterOveride/playdead." Within moments, he disabled the robots functions beyond reading commands, the guards obviously confused, but Mieux was intent on flushing out the genius who snuck through his system, he wrote into it's 'Enter Command' bay in plain English. 'I know you're there. No use hiding, I don't know who, and I don't know how, but you've gotten into my network. This is a feat requiring a genius of robotics and science, perhaps you and I could have a cordial meeting face to face?'

Borgia Manus

"I will explain it to you later, but we gotta get outa here now, Those caravans belong to a prominent figure in the north. I don't think Fort Bannister is at the least safe, could I stay at Paradise Falls?" the woman, Marie asked before turning to a man who had fled from the tower with her.

"Jeremy, i need you to go back to Fort Bannister, tell them im going under the radar for a few weeks, maybe months, until this whole things gets cleared up."

Borgia raised his hand and the man, Jeremy, stopped before him. He then looked at Marie. "I'm going to be perfectly blunt here, I'm a man who craves power. I want Paradise Falls to prosper. Our slavers are tough, but not greatly well equipped or trained. Eulogy prides himself off isolation, the only person he has attempted to establish any type of continual business with is with the Pitt. As much as it pains me, I plan to take Paradise Falls for myself."

Borgia paused, looking into Marie's eyes. "This Mieux is an organised man, and you have done something to provoke him, I do not know what, nor do I care." Borgia had only talked to Mieux for about ten seconds in total, and was speaking out his anus. He had no clue what Mieux was capable of, or what Marie had even done. He was, however, quite good with lies. Not that what he was saying was strictly a lie, he could tell even from the outside of the building that Mieux was a much more organised and intelligent man than Tenpenny.

"I assume you are quite a prominent individual within Talon Company, or at least one who had the ability to reason with whoever it is who runs the company. What I want is a small army, perhaps four or five mercs, to enter Paradise Falls. I expect little resistance, but me entering the place on my own calling for war would not be very intelligent. You have your boyfriend tell your boss of my request. There is no hurry, I need to organise once I arrive back regardless. You come to hide out at Falls until then, avoiding the wrath of Mr Mieux."

Borgia looked to Jerry and raised his hand, nodding. Jerry raised his hunting rifle and walked towards Marie, placing the rifle against her temple. "Or else I'll be forced to turn you in. Look at this logically, all you need is to nod, and we go back to Paradise Falls, happy as. Hell, I'll even buy you a drink."

Commander October, The Company Bunker

After the Vertibirds landed in Big Town Commander October made his way to the bunker of the Company. The Enclave knew where every faction was located thanks to the eye bots. The bunker door opened and a man stood in the way with a shotgun pointed at October.

“Who the hell are you and why are you here.”

“I am Commander October of the Enclave, I have come to ask for the Company’s alliance.”

“The Enclave? Who the hell are they?”

“I can’t believe I am making this comparison but do you know about the Brotherhood o Steel?’

“Yes everybody does. We have taken out our share of paladins.”

“Well we have the same armor as the Brotherhood but ours is more powerful, we also have better weapons and a better way of doing things then the Brotherhood.”

“How come I have never heard of this Enclave before?”

“We have been hiding in our secret base.”

“So what does the Enclave want with the Company.”

“The Enclave can not show its face just yet. We only have two spots in the Capital Wasteland, we need some of the local powerhouses to do out work for us so it will seem like we are not even here.”

“What kind of work?”

“We are going to eliminate the Brotherhood of Steel and take over the Capital Wasteland.”

“The Company accepts your offer. So where is this second place the Enclave is at, I want to see first hand what you guys are capable of.”

“Big Town. It was recently cleared out for our needs. Now gather all of the members of the Company and send them to Big Town. When there I will give a speech to the men stationed there and you.”

“Alright I will notify the boss at once.”

The Programmer leaned back in his chair as he observed tthe monitor. Suddenly, the vision of the Securitron went blank.

"What the hell?" He pressed the ~ Key to bring up the menu. A new command had been placed that seemed to over ride his coontrol of the Securitron. The Programmer read it over, his hands reaching to the keyboard. Words began to appear on the screen, in a green color over The Programmer's preferred blue.


"I know you're there. No use hiding, I don't know who, and I don't know how, but you've gotten into my network. This is a feat requiring a genius of robotics and science. Perhaps you and I could have a cordial meeting face-to-face?

The Programmer observed the words a couple more times, a smile slowly forming on his heavily scarred lipps. He tightened his gloves and began to type a response, chuckling.

"Face to face is currently not a option. You don't live for as long as I do by revealling yourself to the threats of the world. You seem to be a powerful man, whom knows what he is doing out here. Your ability to keep the technology within that tower running shows this, and for that reason alone I have been trying to contact you.

If you wish to speak with me, look inside the control box of TPT-006. You will see a large blue chip, about the size of a thumb, with a antenna. Take it, and attach it to a radio, or intercom. Any communication device will do. We can talk more then, for I have some information that you may find very interesting that I would be willing to give you... in exchange for some help, of course. I look forwardd to your response.

-V.M

The Programmer pressed the enter key, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. If things went as he hoped, The Capital Wasteland would have a newer, far better group in control before the end of the next five years.

OOC: When the radio's kick on, I imagine them to have that tuning noise similiar to how the ones in Bioshock have when they first transmit each new message.

Mieux looked at the words, thoughts racing in his head, he clicked, 'Very well, but, I am only a threat to those would seek to threaten me, you have not done so. The fact I want to meet you, and not kill you, show's just how much I 'love' violence. But suffice it to say, I will install this device onto a radio, with my own modifications, only my end and your end will be able to understand this, the radio will be an encrypted link.'

He dusted off an old radio, installing the device into the radio, he also was tracking it's signal's destination, he smirked, "Heh, this guy is clever, he has it so it's path pings all over, untraceable. Clever."

He tuned the radio, he spoke calmly, his voice containing that charm of a pre-war man of class, though he was of Post-War birth. "Tell me friend, a man hacks into my high security network, going through more hurdlers than track star on a conveyer belt of hurdles, and controls my Protectron, yet does nothing. That leads me to the question of you, Who ARE you?" His question was more an anger not at the man, so much as it was that someone had gotten through what he had seen before as unbreakable security networks. "Whoever you are, if it is a better life you seek, a man with skills such as yours would be invaluable to me. So much so that I'd let you live here for free, on the Penthouse level, MY level."

The Programmer gave off a smirk as Miuex's voice kicked in through his speakers. He grabbed at a microphone, typing a command into his computer.

VoiceSet:C//Woodrow Wilson Speech

Now that he set that command, his voice would adjust through the radio to sound like that of a former ppresident. The Programmer pressed the talk button, speaking in a cold raspy voice.

"To answer your good question, good sir, I have gone by many names throughout my long life. None of them hold any meaning to me, nor did they when I went by them. You may call me simply Programmer. As for if I would like a life of luxury.. perhaps another time. It would take far to long for me to move all this equipment from my current residence to your luxurious tower. Time that niether I, nor you, nor the Capital Wasteland does not have to waste."

The Programmer gave off a cough, grabbiing a nearby glass of irradiated water and drinking it.

"Whether the citizens of this wasteland know it as well as you and I do or not, the facts cannot be changed. A storm is beginning to brew. Factions are joining together, killing there allies enemies off. Slavers are at work. Mercenaries are expanding themselves into there own empire... and clouds of the past are slowly descending, like a fog. For this reason, I have contacted you. For this reason, I wish for us to work together. Get ourselves multiple steps ahead of everyone else. Remove the shell of a evolving creature, so that it may extend. I could go on, but you get the point.

I wish to help you obtain more land, and in return, you help me expand my reach on the technology of this wasteland."

Marie nodded, fearing that fatal shot.

"I will bring the entire Alpha squad, which has thirty men, they will be there in little less than a hour, they are in the Falls sector." she talked into the small two way she had

"The slavers will be dead when we get there."

Mieux frowned, "I'm sorry 'Mr. President' "he said in joking sarcasm, "But I have no desire beyond the current borders I have, I want to make the land I have my pride, having to manage all the land from here to Fort Constantine would be a headache. As for technology, you could easily place it on an old army depot truck, then drive it here, under my protection of course. My network is likely not as extensive as yours, but I'm running the latest, by Pre-War standards, mainframes and computer software. Also, I have a whole penthouse suite, awaiting it's rightful owner," he said in a soft tone to try and entice the man with the thought of a luxury that even residents of Tenpenny called luxurious, "Perhaps YOU are it's rightful owner." His voice went back to normal " However, I cannot make you take it, but it'd be a shame to let a rich ditz live there as opposed to a genius who would have an equal to discuss robotics with." Mieux was thinking hard, trying to find a way to make the man eager to come.

Jack

"What do you mean our business is now null! I gave you caps, in return I want my weapons!" Jack yelled angrily, but then shifting his voice back to its usual calm. "I see, well then, take my weapons. In return I'd like to talk to your leader of this accursed tower."

"You mean Mieux, heh! The chances of you and him meeting are close to zero, but I suppose he wouldn't appreciate it if some go-hung irradiated fool comes in firing off rounds, not good for business, y'know?" The guard sarcastically replied. Before being able to reply, two guards grabbed some sobbing lady and threw her over to an unlikely trio. The now group of four stormed out the door, the woman still crying and yelping for help.

Yes, very safe indeed. Paradise will always fall. No matter the smallest kink in the rope. Jack thought coldly, Hopefully I can speak to this Mieux character, even if not directly. The guard sharply tapped the button on the intercom.

"Mister Mieux, there's a slight problem down here. An interesting..." Jack stared angrily at the guard, and the he speedily avoided his gaze. "...Gentleman would like a word with you. Perhaps you may arrange a meeting via intercom to speak with him..." The intercom submissively and unresponsively crackled with static. Then a powerful, clear, and business-like voice issued from it.

"Very well, we should discuss within the hour. His problems should be easily sorted out. It shall be a tight squeeze though. I have very little time to talk and dawdle."

Mieux allowed the man to enter the tower, briefly turning from his radio confrence, "Come in Mr. Jack, head to the Ambassadors Lounge, have a drink on the house." The gates opened, "Permitted your willing to hand over your weapons for the duration of this meeting." Mieux said quickly. The man highly reluctantly agreed to disarm and head for the lounge. Afterwards, a voice from a speaker on the counter said calmly and coldly, "Shut the door quick, would you kindly?" The guard hidden behind the door exited the lounge and locked it, standing guard. He than gave a light noise, "Ah, alone at last my good man, please, take a drink from the bartender there. And before you ask, I see everything, Security cameras all over this tower. Over here, in the high right corner, Jack gave a slight glance over in the recommended direction, barely visible in the shade of the corner, but it's lens gleamed in the reflected light, " Now, may I ask why you're raising such a ruckus at my gate?" Mieux said, his question asked in a soft tone of curiousity. It was a voice of business, but the voice was obviously a young man.

Mark

"I'd like to buy a room, please." Mark asked with anxiety as he gave the front desk his caps. Suddenly, there was screaming as a woman was being thrown out of the resort. He turned to see what had happened, but it was all over in a matter of seconds. He turned back to the counter, where he was going to say something, but the cashier was quicker.

"You're 50 caps short." the cashier said poignantly. Mark had forgotten the entrance fee he had paid. There was no way now to get a room. The cashier returned his caps to him and Mark strode through the lobby of the hotel, wondering what he could do. Then, it hit him. He went over to a hat shop on the left side of the resort and met a nice-looking woman smiling at him.

"Hello, may I help you?" she asked with a bright smile. Mark smiled too, but because he had a devious plan. He shook his head to represent he didn't want to buy anything. He walked towards the door and strapped a hook to a nail sticking out of the door while the shop-keeper wasn't looking. Then he stepped outside and back in.

"You know, I think someone's calling your name." Mark lied, pretending to be concerned. The keeper looked up from her desk and shrugged. She exited the room, and the hook held on to her back pocket, tearing it off and revealing 100 caps the woman had in her pocket. Mark grabbed them and waltzed over to the front desk again. There was a new person, even better as the last one would ask him where he got them from.

"I'd like to buy a room, please." he told the new cashier. He looked up from a document on his desk and took the 2100 from Mark's hand. He counted them with a machine a took off the glasses he was wearing. "Here's your key." the man said. Mark slowly made it to his room on the fifth floor, and pushed the key inside the the hole. He turned it and opened the door. The large room was a blend of different types of strange, mystic brown colors, while the floor was made from tile and was a light grey. The beds were softer than any bed in his vault, and they were SOFT. For a second, Mark felt safe, protected by huge robots and guards, a huge outer wall, and almost everyone was armed. Until, of course, he got a call.

"Hello?" Mark asked through an old pre-war telephone standing on a night table just beside his bed. There was no answer, only a heavy sigh. Then there was the sound of a man with a raspy voice clear his throat. Then, finally, came the words that would change Mark's life for as long as he lived. There came the words that he never expected, he never thought about. The words that no man could ever enjoy hearing.

"You, are in violation of Regulator law #50, disobeying orders. We've sent hordes of sniper up to the tower, and we will stop at nothing to get to you. Prepare to die." it was clearly George, the Regulator who had sent Mark on this mission. He thought about the mysterious call until he noticed a woman, much like Nina, point her weapon up at his window. He realized at the right time and ducked on the floor. He quickly got up and kicked the door down. He ran through the halls and reached an elevator but decided stairs were faster. With all the pressure on his shoulders, he missed a step going down and hit his head. He discarded it as it was only a small scratch. He carefully traced his steps and finally reached the lobby. A woman sniper sled into it just on time, trying to shoot him in the face. He ran right through her and she fell to the ground.

He looked behind him and saw a ton of Regulators rush in. Mark saw there was no way out, the entrance was blocked off, and there was no exit. Or so he thought. He threw him self to the ground to avoid any bullets flying through the air and found a door down into the basemant. Luckily, it was unlocked and he ran right down another flight of stairs into an entrance to the tunnels. Flying through the opening, he grabbed a switch and pulled it, witch closed an air lock door and blocked the path to follow Mark. Although they didn't seem to be following him anymore. They were probably massacring all the residents. He thought to himself: What have I done?

Alpha Squad was given orders to kill the slavers, then given a order to just wait outside Paradise Falls.

"What the hell is Marie thinking?" muttered Jonathan Parker, a solider in Alpha Squad

"Can it Jon, we can't risk loosing Paradise Falls." said the CO of the squad as he looked at the sky, the rain stopped.
---------------------------------------------
"Get me on the Phone with Mieux, NOW!" barked Harry to Jenkins

"Damn it, look, tell him this. I would like to meet him in person, tell him to meet me at the Kallaran HQ or at Tenpenny Tower, either way, we need to meet in person. Got that? Good." he hung up

"Look" Harry was looking out the window "The rain stopped."

The Programmer gave off a sigh, pulling his thumb off the talk button and turning himself around, staring off into the emptyness of his home. It was a large sewer system he had made himself home in twenty years ago. It took so long to get this technology running. He hadd managed to get a water flow, Mirelurk traps setup, but most of all.. the defences. Turrets were placed all around, and a beautful steel door was ready in the event that someone managed to breach his outter defences.

He turned slowly to his monitors, a gloved hand stroking his massively scarred chin. Tenpenny Tower was bound to have equal defences.. and it made a better vantage point to send out eyebots and observe the wasteland. But just as it was good at defending itself from the outside, his chances of being assassinated from the inside went up highly as well. And yet.. so did his chances of accomplishing his goals.

"Damn the percentages," The Programmer muttered, his hands going to the keyboard attached to the Main-computer. His fingers went to work, typing in commands that would intiate the wiping of almost all data files, with the exception of some that he wanted to keep.. in case he met a uncalculated end. He then pressed on the disk-trays of all the computers, beginning to scoop up holo-tapes and folders and store them in a briefcase.

He turned to the microphone, waiting for his 'friend' to finish his conversation. When it was silent enough, he spoke in his raspy voice.

"Can you have yourself and some soldiers meet me at Fairfax within the next three days? Preferably at night.. I don't know how thee guest of your little paradise feel about ghouls."

Jack

The man named Mieux spoke to Jack through the intercom, "Come in Mr. Jack, head to the ambassador's lounge, have a drink on the house." Jack could not help but notice the odd strength in Mieux's voice, so well spoken he thought. "Permitted you're willing to hand over your weapons for the duration of the meeting."

"Ah" Jack sighed mournfully...."The always prevalent catch." With great reluctance Jack handed over his weapons to a nearby guard who had remained impassive during the conversation.

'Shut the door quickly, would you kindly?" Mieux asked.

Much more a command rather than question. Jack thought rather cynically, and usually. The guard hurriedly closed and locked the door behind Jack. Who shook his head.

Mieux politely announced the inclusion of security cameras within the room. At hearing this Jack gave a quick glance to a camera to his right, it was barely visible, secluded within the darkness like a hermit within his shack.

"Now may I ask why you are causing such a ruckus at the front gate? Miuex asked politely, his voice was soft, and intelligent, yet it gave light to a man oblivious to the horrors of the wasteland. Jack was instantly reminded of Jacob, his dead brother, killed by bloodthirsty mutants that cut a swathe of destruction through the Mojave. Jack began to tear up, wondering if this "Mieux" would see him in a moment of weakness. After regaining his composure he crossed his arms and shook his raven black hair out of his eyes.

"Mieux, I sought refuge, was cheated, and now I'm supposed to believe this place a paradise right after I see a young woman thrown out to what I'm guessing were slavers like a filthy [censored]? I believe you have a problem. I have heard stories muttered in taverns that a storm is brewing, and oh trust me it is. Some mercenaries known as Talon Company, and slavers from the North, and I believe this tower will be quite important, whether taken peacefully and with a treaty or, otherwise. I understand this tower's importance, it is filled with working pre-war technology, and in times of battle could become quite a fortress...I only ask that I have my weapons given back, and I shall pay for the VIP pass the guard at the gate in accordance to that matter, but more importantly I ask you to consider your allies, and reconsider beefing up security. It is designed in case a few hopped up raiders decide to attack, but is sure as hell not as designed to fend off an organized attack. I shall most probably be leaving within the week. So if wish to talk with me again, i shall be easily available for only a small while." Jack's words were sharp and clean, but offensive. He had no idea whether Mieux would sic his guards upon him, but the door behind him simply unlocked, much to his surprise. Mieux hadn't spoken another word, but whether out of anger, fear, or surprise was unknown to him...

Monroe

Fort Constantine - Commanding Officer's Quarters - 7:40 am

Monroe lay in bed and listened to the steady whir of the air conditioning. Brainiac had gotten it working again last week. Teaching that kid to fight so he didn't get gacked in the Arena was a smart move that paid off more than once over the years. For the moment, he was at peace with the world....working AC for the first time since he left the Pitt, the Talon deal went well, and Betty...currently snuggled up tight against him..had just given him a wild lay even for her. "I think she wants to be my Old Lady.", Monroe thought. "I'm going to have to make a decision about her soon.". Her contract was five years or 2,500 caps...one year was gone and she didn't drink or do chems so her 10% of her take must be adding up quickly. A year, year and a half and she'll have the balance of the contract and then she is free. While Monroe was of a mind to pay her contract off, give her enough caps to get on her feet and have Mitch take her to Rivet City where she'd be safe....he was becoming less and less sure she'd go. Or that he wanted her to go, even he was well aware that she would be far better off behind Rivet City's walls and lovingly maintained AA guns than in his world. "And I cannot take her back to the Pitt as a free woman unless she goes to the Arena,", Monroe thought grimly. "but she isn't Mitch...no killer instinct at all."

Mitch didn't need training, she is meaner than a polecat....if the slavers who caught her had taken her to the Falls instead of passing her off to the Pitt's buyer directly she probably would have tried to bite Eulogy's wang off and gotten killed for it. Brainiac took a few months of coaching before he dared risk sending him in and he damn near died. Betty...he didn't know. "What the [censored] am I going to do?", he said aloud without realizing it.

"Well...", said Betty lazily as she reached for him. "I've got a suggestion, if you're interested."

From the immediate reaction to her touch, Betty knew he had figured out what it was already.

Monroe was about to reply to her when the front door to the small house burst open and Frankie, one of his boys burst into the bedroom, leaving both doors wide open. "This had better be f...", Monroe began angrily...prepared to give Frankie a piece of his mind if this was something stupid, but the distant automatic gunfire he could now hear through the open doors told him whatever Frankie had to say was...indeed...important.

"It's the Outcasts, Boss!", said Frankie breathlessly. "They're hitting the incoming shipment from the Tunnel!"

"[censored].", sighed Monroe. "Get the boys together, and tell Brainiac to fire up every bot he has working. I'll be right out." He then gently removed Betty's hand and spoke to her. "Sorry, honey...Daddy's gotta go to work."

As Frankie ran out, Monroe hurriedly put on his Gamma Shield armor, assisted by Betty. She then grabbed his Chinese Assault Rifle from it's place leaning against the headboard, racked the bolt smartly and handed it to him, then threw her arms around his neck, kissed him hard on the mouth, then let go of him. "Don't you dare get killed!", she said with perfect sincerity.

"Yes, Boss", said Monroe. "As for you, get dressed and go down in the bunker." He handed her the key to the LCC bunker under the house. "Don't open that door unless you recognize who it is. I don't see it happening, but if the Outcasts actually get in don't even try to fight them. Do whatever they say and they won't hurt you, all they care about is tech. Once she nodded that she understood, he turned and strode outside.

The camp was in commotion as the Pitt Raiders who weren't on Sentry Duty poured out of the Admin Building and the barracks buildings and formed up. Monroe also noticed that robots were beginning to emerge from the Bomb Storage building as fast as Brainiac could activate them. Monroe got reports from Frankie, and the sentries on the Water Tower who were advising the caravan was pinned down but holding it's ground. Gathering the set leaders, he quickly outlined his plan. He personally would lead 20 Raiders and two Sentry Bots to relieve the caravan and bring it in. Another 10 men and two Senty Bots would head South to cut of the Outcast's retreat. The rest would protect the Camp, 10 men and the Protectrons along with a couple Mr. Gutsy's in Bomb Storage, and 20 in the Admin building,
10 on the roof and the rest inside as a reserve. the rest of the Sentry Bots and Mr. Gutsy's would patrol the Camp. With the men manning the walls already, the Camp should be fine as the Outcasts couldn't possibly have enough men to take this place, especially after the Scarlet Lance booted them out of thier own Headquarters. As the others ran to thier positions Monroe led his men up the hill to leave via the North Gate.

From atop one of the dishes of Satcom Array NN-03D, the watcher observed the moves the Pitt Raiders made in Fort Constantine below. The Raider Gang that...until thier eradication last night by he and his Brothers...infested this place, they pathetically called themselves the "Sky Lords", lay strewn all over the derelict facility. They were foolish and unwary, the Raiders below were neither. This was as close as he dared to get. There were far more of them that thier intelligence led them to believe....and where on earth did they get so many robots? They appeared to be sending a large force to the aid of the caravan...carrying as much as 200,000 caps worth of weapons and ammunition according to thier anolysts..that had just entered the Capital Wasteland from the Pitt. The attack on it was but a distraction for thier real aim. A smaller force was leaving for the South, from the direction the watcher assessed they were aiming to intercept any retreating attackers heading for Northern Washington...the National Guard Depot? What alarmed the watcher is that at least as many men were taking up positions in the main buildings...not to mention the robots wandering the perimeter...but fortunately not the target. The watcher had already expressed his opinion this operation should be aborted, but had been overruled. "The deception plan will work", he was told. "We will get what we came for and leave before they can react.". The watcher was not so sure.

Monroe jogged towards the sound of the gunfire with his men. They would make contact soon, time to get into battle formation. Forming a skirmish line, they began to advance, the Sentry bots right behind. Then Monroe's radio crackled to life.

"We're about there!", snarled Monroe into the radio. "Hold on!"

"This is Frankie, Boss!" said Frankie over the radio. "Mitch is hailing us on a ham radio! You've got to hear this!" Back at the Admin building, Frankie held the walkie-talkie by the radio speaker.

The reception was bad, but he could clearly make out Mitch's voice.

"Boss!", shouted Mitch. "The f****** Brotherhood is coming! I'm at Dukov's now, they took his key from him two days ago! They have all the keys and are coming for whatever is below the Fort!"

"You get that?", said Frankie. Then the ground shook as two massive explosions came from behind Monroe, followed by heavy gunfire. Monroe whirled around to look and his stomach turned to ice as he saw the familiar mushroom cloud of a Fat Man..no, two of them...climbing up into the sky. "What the F***!!", screamed Frankie over the radio. A few seconds later he resumed speaking. "They've breached the walls on the East and West side, they are trying to assault from the West!".

"How about the East?", demanded Monroe. "Did those nukes hit any buildings?"

"No buildings....", said Frankie. "The bomb that hit the East side just missed your house, though. No one coming from that way yet."

"I'm coming back....watch that house, the Bunker below it is thier target!", shouted Monroe. He then turned to his men, and directed half of them and the Sentry Bots to move forward to the caravan, while he took ten men back to the Camp. "Betty.", thought Monroe grimly, "I swear to God if they hurt you I'll impale the lot of them!"

To the South, the Raiders assigned to cut off the retreat of the attackers towards the National Guard Depot, the last known HQ of the Outcasts, watched horrified as the mushroom clouds from the twin Fat Man detonations climbed into the sky over Fort Constantine. Thier leader knew his orders, rightly feared the consequences of crossing Monroe, but this obviously changed everything. He decided to risk Monroe's wrath and ordered his men back towards the Camp.

The watcher watched the battle unfold. The Fat Man projectiles had breached the walls on the East and West side of the Camp, clearing out several robots, but it was not nearly enough. A shocking amount of accurate return fire was streaming from the Admin building, the roof of the Bomb Storage building, and the robots, the distraction force making a feint on the West wall was taking heavy casualties. At least four men, including one of the heavy weapons gunners, were down already. The extraction team, using Stealth Boys, had entered the CO's Quarters. By the fire coming from the Bomb Storage building, they could not leave that way and would have to come out the way they came in. But could they keep up the feint operation long enough for them to escape?

Eric sat at the counter as Gob, a ghoul that works there for Moriarty, gave him a bottle of whiskey and glass. Eric filled it up and then gulped it down and then he filled the glass again.

"Eric"

Eric looked up it was Moriarty he ushered Eric over to him. Eric walked over to where Moriarty was.

"Okay kid I got a job for you, my friend Eulogy Jones"

"You mean the head slaver of Paradise Falls" whispered Eric.

"Yes that one, any way he has sent a message to me saying that his right-hand man Borgia is going to Tenpenny Tower, why I don't know. But apparently an member of the Talon Company is going to be there as well, now Eulogy has offered me caps if I could check out these Talon bastards and see if they will remain friendly with him or plan on back stabbing him" said Moriarty.

"So you want me to go to Fort Bannister?" said Eric.

Moriarty nodded and handed Eric a bag, Eric opened it to see it was full of caps.

"This is for the road, also to help you get in" laughed Moriarty.

With that Eric left the Moriarty's Saloon.

Ivan Volkov
-Paradise Falls-
--Day 1: Early-Evening--


The walls surrounded me, gray teeth protruding from the earth's jaw. They were jagged at the tips and thick at the bottom, they towered over him. They pressed down...Give up they say, Give up they say.

But I hold the hammer, it's silver and shines. Shines from within, like a torch, nut much brighter.

I swing. Swing as hard as I can at the walls and they crumble, they crash down in piles of rubble. Heaps of crumbled bones.

Yet, for every wall I bring down, three more takes it place. They press down on me. Give up. Give up.
-----------------------------------

“Get up.”

I waved my hand at the voice, my head was throbbing, much worse than before. I was tired, sleep sounded good, the dirt felt nice. A little to hard though, I wish it was softer. Like a nice silk blanket.

“Get up.”

I felt someone smack my face, the left side, all the sleepiness was washed out instantly. I jumped up, my head swimming, my eyes fogged with tears.

“What the hell...”

I looked at the old man, Dewey his name was, and no more than a specter of man. A ghost living in a human husk. Yet he did have a warmness about him, a reassuring voice.

A good thing in my situation.

My situation?

Yes you know, the whole being a slave thing.

Ah, [censored].

The moment that I realized where I was, was the moment I lost my anger. All of sudden despair took it's place, being a slave was the worst possible thing you could be in the Capital Wasteland. You had no heroes to save you, just had to wait it out and hope you would sold to someone kind.

“Food time, kid.”

He hand me a small metal plate,

“This is what your use to get your food, now go get in line.”

I shuffled forward with the rest of the slaves, a rugged line of starved men, stretching from the opening of the pen and all throughout(the pens were becoming crowded). We shambled forward, I was vaguely aware of what was going on.

Hardly noticing that on the other side of the pen, the exact same thing was happening with the females. As I reached the front of the gate, I became aware of the fact that just beyond that was freedom, the desolate waste lay beyond that. A place where survival was just as hard as it was in here, but at least you were surviving on your own terms.

All that stood before me was the iron, chain-link door and one heavy set slaver. But as the slaver smiled at me and put a scoop, of god knows what(some kind of mush, like oatmeal), I knew that door and raider may as well been the Himalayas.

The guard pointed at my face and chuckled, a deep and grating voice, like granite on granite.

“Hows your face, sunshine.”

“Just peachy, thanks for asking, Mother.”

Suddenly I was lifted through the air and thrown against the door, his hairy hands had grabbed my shirt collar and had me pinned to the gate. No more than three inches from his quavering mustache,

“Ya smart mouthing me, slave?”

“Of-of course not sir.”

“Good.”

I was thrown back down into the dirt: my plate hit the ground with a clang, spilling my food all over the dirt, I could feel blood trickling down my neck, a wound had reopened.

“Next!”

As the guard shouted for the line to move, people steppe over me to get their meal. They were completely oblivious and emotionless. Like human zombies. I sullenly picked up my food, scooping it off the dirt with my hands.

As I walked towards Dewey and the female who was sitting on the other side, my sorrow was quickly turning into something else. I didn't want to be like the rest of these people, defeated and broken. I didn't want to live my life in a cage, my only hope to be sold to a kind master.

I wanted to fight! Fight the bastards that were taking are freedoms, who gave them that right? Who!? God!? Certainly not. That were just mortal men with twisted morals and big guns, they could be brought down just like any other man.

As I picked at my food, trying my best to not to eat as much dirt as possible, tears began to roll down my face. These weren't tears of of sorrow, but of fury.

“Ooh, how sad. Did the slaver hurt your feelings?”

A mix of mockery of jest. I could tell already she was one of those types who would keep pushing people just for their reactions, and then act all defensive and apologetic when the person exploded or broke down. But still her presence was welcome. I turned towards her,

Because of my left eye, I couldn't really see her before, but now I could. She was taller than me, but not by much. She had chocolate colored hair, brown skin, and hazel eyes, making her seem completely inconspicuous. I stuck my hand through one of the holes in the fences, it was just wide enough to my arm, up to the elbow, in.

“Well before we start tearing each other to pieces, let's at least know each others name, I am Ivan.”

“Alicia,” she said. Softly smiling, “you look like [censored].”

“I vaguely recall you saying that before.”

“Well, you look worse than before, like you got mauled by a Deathclaw”

“Your a real confidence booster, you know that?”

“Thanks, I try, really.”

Dewey laughed next to me, his small frame quivering, it looked like he could be taken away by a gust of wind at any moment,

“Damn, It's good to have such a lively conversation every once in a while, not like these,” he gestured at the rest of the people, picking absently mindlessly at their food, “these corpses.”

“Why are they like that?” I asked with a mouthful of food, all of sudden I realized how famished I was. The dirt crunched in my teeth, but I didn't care.

“Why do you think? A man can only be pushed so far before he breaks, before he looses all hope. All these men have been here for months, and it's certainly taken quite a toll.”

“Why don't they rebel?”

Dewey looked around nervously, a few slaves were now looking at them suspiciously, some were edging away, as if I had some unwanted disease.

“Don't you think some people tried? But just speaking of rebellion will get you killed, it's impossible.”

I stared at the large, hairy man guarding the gate. Just beyond that was freedom.

“I will find a way,” I said.

Alicia let out a cold laugh,

“I won't be the one to bury you.”

Lucas "Reaper" Caine - The Bazaar - Street

Lucas had spent the rest of the day checking out the various businesses set up in the bazaar before retiring for the day. When he left Fort Independence this day thankfully yesterdays downpour had stopped and the sun shone high in the sky as he walked past the many vendors plying their wares. He stopped upon hearing a dispute between a Rivet City water merchant and a disgruntled waster.

"You son a [censored]! That water you sold me yesterday was radiated to hell! I demand a refund."

"Sir. I told you yesterday that it was low on radiation not that there wasn't any."

"I don't give a damn! I WANT MY MONEY BACK OR I'LL MAKE YOU GIVE IT BACK!"

"I'm sorry, sir. But I just can't give you a refund."

The irate individual reached into his brahmin shirt producing a .32 revolver which he shakily pointed at the now terrified merchant.

Lucas not waiting for security drew his Nagant firing three rounds into the angry man's chest mortally wounding the man. Two power armored lancers rushed over hands on their weapons. Lucas stood still his weapon still drawn as he watched the dead wasters blood pool on the ground for a time before refocusing his attention on the guards.

"Clean this mess up, NOW!", Lucas roared as he holstered his weapon.

"T-Thank you, Mr. Caine!", the scared merchant said gratefully.

Lucas grunted in reply as he stormed off to the front gates of The Bazaar. The two guards on duty saluted. The robobrain stationed at the gate said good morning as well. Ignoring the tin can Lucas focused his anger on the two guards.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I PAYING YOU INCOMPETENT [censored] for!?

"Commander, what's the problem?", one one of the men stammered.

"MY PROBLEM! MY PROBLEM!", Lucas spat as he jabbed the man in his chest. "MY PROBLEM IS THAT YOU LET A DERANGED MAN IN HERE WITH A WEAPON!

"B-Bu-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR HALF-ASSED EXCUSES! LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN AND YOUR DEAD! ARE WE CLEAR?

"Y-Y-Yes, Commander!", one guard stammered.

Lucas looked to the other who nodded in understanding obviously scared. Lucas then stomped off to the south gate to give the other guards the same speech.

OOC: Tiberius if the outcasts are still around their under different leadership as Henry Casdin was killed during the raid on Fort Independence. His head has been placed on a pike outside the north gate as a warning alongside Defender Morgan's and Rockfowl's head.

Eric came to the gates of Megaton, he looked around. Everyone was under shelter as the storm raged over them, everyone was under shelter everyone that is except Cromwell and his crazy followers preaching about the so called "Atom". But Eric didn't have time to tell them that there is no such thing as Atom and that there are as crazy as Super Mutants.

Eric waited as the gates opened up and just before he left Megaton he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking out of the frying pan and into the fire.