Orson heard the orders and immediately got up from his position, where he had been patiently watching a handful of recruits glaring at each other. It was a fight waiting to happen. Rather than trying to break it up though, he simply left the room, already focused on his orders and the approaching mission. He was already outfitted in his armor, so the only thing he would need was his rifle, which he quickly acquired from his room before heading to the Captain's office.

He walked down the corridors and rounded a corner, walking straight into a man. The man in front of him had been rather frail, and fell backwards. Orson glared at the man and went past him, not bothering to help him up. He should have been watching where he was going.

He soon found himself at the door to the Captain's office, and walked in, closing the door behind him. He didn't say a word, but instead went immediately no attention. He clasped his hands behind his back, with his M4 hanging over his shoulder on a strap. He stood rather stiffly, as he was always one to observe the formalities, and didn't even bother inspecting his teammates. He knew them all already, just as he was sure they all knew him. No need for unnecessary conversation.

Jugger had noticed the crowd forming around the body alongside him, and tried to ignore it as best as he could.
Something had caught his attention...
Reaching a hand down, he squeezed two fingers into the mutilated flesh around the neck and pulled a slim, metal object out.
He held it in front of his eyes, staring at it from behind his mask. A bullet. Talk about a lucky find. It appeared to vaguely resemble the common .308 type he was used to seeing Sniper Rifles use...but he could see a small difference. It was still in good condition
"What is he still doing here! His body should be taken away and prepared for a dignified and proper burial. He didn't deserve to die and he sure as hell doesn't deserve to just be sitting here, being gawked at. You! Take of his Holotags and give them to Scribe Jameson."

Jugger turned around, watching the crowd disperse at the sight of an angry man. It took a few seconds for him to realize that this was no other than the Lone Wanderer. He was...impressed, to say the least.
He stood by idly while the body was carted away, and covertly slipped the discharged bullet into his backpack pocket. He'd look at it later, see if it satisfied his curiosity about this strange new enemy.
He was preparing to leave with the rest of the onlookers when he was addressed by the Lone Wander himself, making him wheel around hesitantly.
"Ah, the newly appointed Paladin Drake Render. I'm going to cut to the chase of it. I'm forming a team to help take down this new army, I need a man like you in my team. What do you say?"

Jugger was surprised to be called by his full name. Most people didn't even remember it.
He tilted his head, thinking over it shortly and deeply, then extended his now-clean, armored hand for a handshake.
"Sure. I'll help."

Dakayev then stared as another man walked in. Orson, the pain-in-the-ass drill instructor for our troops. Still nothing compared to Drill Sarge Tartovsky. Dakayev then looked at Captain Williams.

" Sir, I was wondering, before the mission, if I could pull of what the Americans call, a "prank". It was more appealing through the flight of my weapons bullets, but instead I came up with a psychological weapon. A speech. Most members of the Brotherhood already know we're coming, we might as well make a loud boom when we knock on their door. Maybe intercepting their rather primitive comm units with our Sat-dish and maybe cut off all frequencies and broadcast our speech of impending doom. It'll shake the morale of those lousy wastelanders. Maybe even predict dire situations. I read it from a book on Nostradamus. You should read it sometime. "

Dakayev then checked his visor helmet for the status of his internal organs. Fine. Stress level, fine. What a suprise.

Henry watched as Andy went up and recruited the Paladin, Jugger was tough and Henry thought that he would make a good addition to the team. However, most people didn't get along with him very well. He voiced his thoughts to the others "He's a good fighter but he scares the hell out of me. I mean someone who enjoys toasting people alive with a flamethrower can't be completely normal," Henry took a break from shooting the targets and started to get everything ready for a final inspection. He fixed up his assault rifle and made sure all his magazines were loaded. Glancing over at Knight he asked "Why did you give your holotags to Scribe Jameson? You don't think you'll come back alive?" If Mitchell did that then things were bad indeed. Still... better him than meMitchell may be giving up hope of coming back alive, but Henry wasn't.

((OOC: Enclave, just so no one gets confused, Francois' character is Captain Harris, you said Captain William.))

Nate stood from his seat with his bag.

"If you'll excuse for a second I forgot something." Nate said, forgetting that he had yet to put on his Kevlar vest.

Nate stepped over to the door, opened it up, and walked to his room. He turned the knob of the door, and pushed it open, closing it behind him. Setting his bag down on his bunk, he sat next to it and unzippered it, pulling out his bulletproof vest. He unbuttoned his overshirt, and laid it on the bed, then unstrapping his vest, and strapping it back on over his t-shirt. The bed springs creaked as Nate stood up, picking his flannel overshirt up off the bed and putting it on, not bothering to button it back up. Nate picked his bag back up and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, as he walked out the door, and shut it behind him.

As Nate walked down the gloomy halls, he looked to his right and noticed a group of recruits duking out on the floor. Nate dropped his bag by the door way, and lifted his aviators off his eyes, letting his hand fall to his side.

"Knock it off!" Nate shouted, giving them a stern look.

They slowly got up off the ground, seeing Nate looking at them. Nate was only a Corporal, and they were just a bunch of disrespectful recruits, who could care less about anything that Nate said.

"Ooh what are you gonna' do tough guy? Tell the Captain on us?" One of them remarked, the rest started laughing.

Although Nate was much taller then all of them, he was slender, and not very intimidating, unless you saw him on the battlefield, so even though they were recruits, most of them were more built then Nate was. But that didn't bother Nate at all.

"No, I have something much more fun planned for you maggots." Nate said, stepping towards them.

One of them began to laugh, followed by the rest of them doing the same. Their "ring leader", stepped up towards nate, and put his head up next to Nate's ear whispering,

"Do something.."

Immediately, Nate grabbed the recruit by the neck, and swung his fist into the recruits jaw. His head jerked sideways, and his eyes closed, he fell backwards, hitting the cement floor hard. From one blow, he was out cold. The rest of them started to back up, realizing they'd underestimated him, and started to walk away, a walk which shortly became a cowering run.

Nate stepped away from the unconscious recruit and slid his aviators back over his eyes, letting out a grin.

Maybe that was a little to harsh... Nah..

Nate stepped back over to his bag and picked it up, walking out into the halls and making his way back to the captain's office.

Nate shortly arrived at the wooden door of Captain Harris' office, and opened it up. He tossed his bag over onto the chair he was sitting on, and closed the door. The door creaked shut and Nate stepped over to his chair, laying his bag on the floor and sitting down.

"Sorry it took me so long, I had to put a few recruits in order." Nate said with a smirk, as he leaned back into his chair.

Edit: ((Once again, sorry i've putting up such long posts lately.. ))

Andrew turned to Henry and said, "Oh, that's Paladin Drake Render. I've heard he can be rather scary, psychotic, and emotionless, but he's probably just got a thick shell, and I'm not just talking about his armor." He then started shooting at long range targets using his Sniper Rifle.

I smiled lightly as I looked around the room at all the people gathered in the small office, I stood up, I looked at each one in the eyes, or in the glasses in Nate's case, "Well, soldiers, I've called you all here because you all know how to kill a man, or a woman if the situation permits. I understand that you all don't know what the hell is the plan, so let me explain... Although, the first thing to know, is we are NOT going to be in a frontal assault, not against the Lone Wanderer."

I then let my expression change to blankness, "All of our main forces will be assaulting the Citadel from the front, although, the main army will not be arriving for another week, as they are still marching across from the West Coast. Although, with out current forces, we believe we can take out a good number of the Brotherhood of Steel..." I stopped suddenly, thinking, then I started again, "We shall attack from the behind, a certain demolition squad will make it possible for us."

"We shall attack from behind, giving cover as needed, our main mission, is take out the Lone Wanderer, but knowing him, he'll know we're coming somehow. Bastard knows everything... Now, any objections? No? I hoped not, although, if you seriously have a problem, tell me now or forever hold your piece." I stopped and waited a split second, I didn't see any immediate movement, so I sat back in my chair and took a breath. I looked down at myself.

I scowled and thought about everything, then I remembered a phrase that my master had told me, 'A man chooses, A slave obeys.' I looked up at the people in front of me, and I sighed, I wouldn't make them Slaves, they shouldn't become what I'd fallen into... I couldn't redeem myself, but I could come back from Hell at least.

(OOC: Okay guys, we shan't start the big attack until Aussie Made is at least online, and at least several others. As well as that, Last, Best Hope, because of your long posts, I definitely don't mind, that shows me your good at writing!)

"Well, as long as he's on our side, I'm fine with him on the team." said Henry, the more people we have, the safer I am. Henry soon got bored with shooting at targets and thought This is the worst part, waiting I just wish the call would come up to get into the action. Instead he was left nervously waiting for the inevitable attack. So Henry thought about his plan to stay alive, don't take unnecessary chances, extreme caution is going to be needed. But, the worst part was that in the end, he wouldn't be able to do anything if someone decided to snipe him from 200 feet away. All he had, was his brains and a little bit of luck.

((OOC: Alright then. Man I hate time zones... Its almost 2:00 AM on the East Coast.. Oh well, I should be up for about 3 more hours.))

"Excellent, welcome aboard, if there is an attack on the Brotherhood we will be meeting here, in the courtyard." I said as I shook his hand. "I'll leave you to practice or gather your things. Thank you Paladin Render."

I walked off and back down into the command center I had to see if there was any reports of enemy activity. I reported in to Rothchild. Before I got the chance to say anything he began to talk.

"All is quiet on the western front, well I guess I should say eastern front. Do not worry Andy as soon as we know anything you will know."

"Thanks Rothchild, I can always count on you but if you don't mind I think I'll just hang around." I said with a smile on my face.

Even though I had a smile, I was nervous. I still got the butterflies, everyone depended so greatly on me, I couldn't bare the thought of letting anyone down. I just stood to the side and began to monitor everyone and look for any signs of the upcoming battle.

Dakayev looked at Captain Harris for a moment then fell into laughter


" Sir, this lone wandered guy, does he really exist? I was overlooking a few BOS troops over by the skyscraqer there, and I heard them converse about this guy and how he is so great and all. If you ask me he is some really annoying idol to them. If you ever let me get the chance, you wouldn't mind if I put a bullet in his head with my Gladius rifle right? Never mind, it would blow his head off and I wouldn't have a trophy. I guess someone else can reclaim his head, but I put a bullet right through his chest. Better yet, I put a bullet through his girl if I find her."

Dakayev then looked down at his pouch, they were already starting an assault and he was equipped with only his holotape of the soviet national anthem. He then opened it up and pulled it out from his nylon belt. He looked at the settings and turned the thing on.

" Sir, do you mind if we have a toast before battle, nothing like the good old anthem and vodka to take the doubt away, eh?"

Dakayev was certain Captain Harris meant it when he said suicide mission. Dakayev had grown loyal, and he wasn't going to falter, but he didn't want to die. He wanted to see the day the world was rebuilt and completely secure, free of lunatic rebels and raider gangs and tech worshipping cultists.

" Sir?"

Dakayev awaited the response.

Ashley was silent after the Captain's speech. She was thinking about what lay ahead of them whilst looking around the group. She had grown to know some of them atleast and patched up nearly all of them once or twice. Her and Corporal Tesla had both joined the Invisible Faction four years ago give or take a few months. George, she got on with well and the others she had known to get over the years.

Dakayev's music brought her back to the present and she looked away at the floor, rolling her eyes slightly. The Russians were big on patriotism about 'the old country', over the years she had learned not to say anything during these moments. Whilst looking at the floor she noticed red splashes on the floor, she followed them with her eyes, finding Nathan was the source.

She leaned against the wall, smirking a little. "You sure the Captain won't mind you bleeding on his floor, Corporal?" She said quietly.

Nathan raised his head up and looked towards Private Ryder.

"Huh?" Nate said, unsure of what she was talking about.

He looked down at his hands, and looked at both sides of them. His blood was dripping out of the fingerholes of his gloves, and splashing on to the captain's floor.

"Oh sh-" Nate stopped before completing his sentence.

He looked up towards Ashley and gave her a corny smile. The red blood stood out clearly on the black floor of the captain's office. Nate looked around for something to clean it up with. He grabbed his messenger bag and slid it around over the floor nonchalantly. It soaked up most of the blood that was visible, along with some dirt and dust.

Nate tossed his bag over to the side of his chair, and wrapped his hands in is overshirt.

"You got any bandages?" Nate whispered to Ashley with a grin.

Dakayev was waiting for the Captains response when he saw Nate bend over and whisper into Ashleys ears.


" Trying to tell something to the Captain, Nate? He can't hear you, could you repeat that"

Dakayev smiled. It was always fun to laugh at a pissed off drill instructor.


OOC: Just for laughs to see how far this thing between Dakayev and the non-Russian team-mates goes. Can you tolerate a good joke?

((OOC: Yeah sure, this should be fun. ))

Nate looked up towards Sergeant Netsky, who was trying to get him into some sort of trouble.

"Of course. I was just asking Private Ryder if she could lend me some bandages. I seem to have injured my hands pretty badly." Nate said bluntly.

Nate looked over to the sergeant, and smirked.

I'm afraid i've got nothing to hide.

Dakayev looked at Nate angrily

" What, a man doesn't wear petty bandages, he wears the scars like a badge of honor. Don't tell me you want the poor girl to embarass you more. The tough instructor gets taken down by a little cut?"

" I'm sure you wanted more than a bandage, Instructor"

Dakayev was going to have a long month.

( Sorry if its short, I am eating a few micro-wave burritos while typing, yum)

Nate looked at the Dakayev and grinned.

"Me? Embarassed? No, I just didn't want to get my blood on the captain's floor. Believe me, I could care less about the pain." Nate said calmly, still grinning.

He pulled his gloves off of his hands, and revealed the wounds that the sergeant had referred to as, "a little cut".

"Not that it matters, but I wouldn't call these "Little cuts"." Nate said, still showing no pain, or anger.

His hands were engulfed in blood, and some of his muscle tissue was exposed. Nate looked down at his hands and raised his eyebrows, he hadn't remembered them being that injured. He let his blood run off of his hands and onto his jeans. He still kept a straight face.

Ashley smirked as she pulled her pack off her shouder and placed it on her lap. She unbuckled it and reached in, searching for her bandages. She found them and took them out. She decided to let the two argue whilst she looked for her other equipment.

She decided to intervene with a small cough when Dakayev said "What, a man doesn't wear petty bandages, he wears the scars like a badge of honor."
She smiled at him politely, "With respect sir... You should tell the captain that... Sir." She pointed at the Captain's bandaged hand.

She then looked back to Nate's bloodied hands. "Damn.. We've not even set off and I'm having to patch you up." She took his hands and tried the best she could to put the torn skin back into the right place and hold it there while she wrapped the bandages round his hand. She did the same for the other one. "Painkillers..." She said handing him a small bottle. "And you're going to need new gloves..." She added with a smirk.

Dakayev was ready for round 2. He was going to give Nate a nice shock.

" Once sec, this will help"

Dakayev removed from his pouch a bullet for his Gladius rifle. He dis-assembled it and took the gunpowder from it. He then took his Catachan Devil knife he got from Siberia. A one of a kind weapon, it had liquid mercury inside, keeping a nice balance of weight. He grabbed it from his knife socket and rubbed it against the gun-powder until it popped and the knife was sizzling hot.

" Oh, and Ashley, the Captain is more of a man than all of us. He proved that back in Siberia. The private needs to deal with his [censored] wounds. The captain jumped off a building. I don't suggest you insult him or me. I know you are taking Nates side on this one. But you will get your fill to. You will report to me at the barracks after the mission with the permission of Captain Harris.

" Catch"

Dakayev then threw the knife over to Nate, hoping he would catch it and not impale one of his legs before the mission started. Oh, were he and Dakayev ready for some Sergeant Tartakov training. Oh the memories.

OOC: IF you approve of this. I will change it accordingly just in case.

Nate thought fast and leaned over, ready to catch the knife.

Before the knife could touch his hands, he snatched the knife out of the air, catching it by the handle, with his mouth.

Nate started to laugh, his laugh muffled by the knife in his mouth. He grinned at Dakayev, still laughing.

You just can't win with me.

Dakayev grinned

"You haven't gone through the training I have. Wait till you see what good'ol Sergeant Tartakov has in store for you. You along with Ashley will report to me after Captain Harris gives me approval to do so. After the mission of course. "

Dakayev then waited for Nate to finish with the knife

" That knife brought me tons of bear hides to sell while running laps around base camp. I also trimmed my nails with it and cleaned my teeth as well. Very useful if you know how to handle it."

OOC: Trust me, when I mean training, I mean running through a miniature minefield and riding atop a nice cryo pod for some swimming. Oh the joy..........

Nate listened to the sergeant's stories and tossed the knife back at him by jerking his head. He let Ashley work on his hands while he argued with the sergeant.

"I'm looking forward to training with you Sergeant. That is, if you can manage to get out of this mission alive." Nate said, still grinning.

((OOC: Sorry for the shortness, my noodles are done. ))

OOC: Hell yeah, noodles rock. Asian food is my partial weakness. The other is Italian/French/Hispanic. Paella, frog-legs, rabbit-legs, oh the goodness.

Dakayev laughed

" Oh, can you just wait till you find out what the Sergeant had in store for me. Now, you get to try for yourself. And to assure you, I will get out of this mission alive, thats why I am a sergeant in the first place, private. I have seen things, done things, that you cannot imagine. "

Dakayev then chuckled while he watched Ashley patch up Nate.


OOC: Remember, during the hellish training I put you through, there is no god passing through. You won't die obviously, but you won't come out without a BIG bruise. ( Broken hand, a bullet to the leg, maybe a cut to the face, and then Dakayev will give you his respect since you survive. And a bottle of vodka.)

Ashley sighed as she finished bandaging up Nate's hands, taping the bandages in place.

"Would you kindly stop ripping each others throats out? I do need these medical supplies you know. Don't want to get more before we even start this mission."

She packed her supplies back in the bag and then looked up at Dakayev's face. The delight in the fact that he'd put her and Nate through this training was evident on his face. "Well then Sergeant... I'll see you there." She saluted half-heartedly and fastened her pack again, throwing it over her shoulder.

((OOC: I'm not sure if you were talking to me or Cutie, but if you were talking to me, then you said "private", and Nates a corporal lol.))

Nate brought his hands up towards his face and turned them from side to side, observing them.

Nate yawned and looked up towards the sergeant.

"Can't wait." Nate said, unscrewing the bottle of pain killers that Ashley had given him, and swallowing a few.