Very entertaining story. Certainly interesting times for Navarro ahead with the NCR about to come knocking (if you wanted an interesting aside, given that the NCR is a capitalist democracy where big-business apparently has a lot of power and influence they might well regard the statist Enclave as being the evil "Communists" here).

11th March, 2242

The mournful sound of a single mournful trumpet was all that could be heard aside from the voice of Acting President Halt; against the backdrop of several vertical refinery storage tanks (all of which were draqed with the flag) Halt stood on an immense podium so that he could see even the furthest faces of the plus three-hundred strong crowd, whom had all just finished a rendition of “Strong and Peaceful”. The whole courtyard was a stage for the greatest state funeral in the history of America and perhaps evens the world, the mourning of what was almost the destruction of the state itself; even the Enclave, the infallible Enclave, the last hope for the restoration of peace and order had almost toppled into the abyss. The citizens of this new world formed a sea of blue jumpsuits, all stood straight backed and weeping, with their hearts pressed tightly against their hearts. Then there were the soldiers, who it could be said had been hit hardest of all, it was their duty and privilege to safeguard the bastion that was the Enclave from all of the foes which crashed against it’s mighty walls; they had failed in their task, some had even taken their own lives in the barracks on the night that they heard that the Oil Rig was no more. They stood just as tall and straight backed as the citizens, eternally saluting what would be their future savoir. All of the politicians (whom had only numbered 2% of the Oil Rig population anyway) had formed a line behind Halt and stood in a with their hands overlapping and pressed into the base of their backs; they simply looked ahead, with little emotion beneath their steeled determination, in their dark suits and businesslike dresses, the well-polished, stainless steel Enclave “E” which they all had pinned to their respective attire shown brilliantly in the noon sun.

“Citizens and compatriots of the Enclave of the United States of America, it is with a deeply saddened heart that I am here before you today, indeed why we are all here today.” Halt had begun his speech, he spoke in a determined manner, often making great gestures with his hands. “One week ago today, at roughly sixteen-hundred hours, our way of life was taken from us. The hopes and dreams of our people and the future of the human race was sold by the barbaric actions of the mainlanders, they in their self-centred desire for all of the bounty that our intrepid pre-war saviours had bequeathed to us to begin the world anew. It was not even the desire to survive that motivated their actions, for as we know they fight for no cause, they fight for no flag; they are savages consumed by the same greed which led the immortal enemy, China, to war with our gallant defenders. Our society was usurped, our way of life was infiltrated by these plunderers of liberty and freedom; and we were cast down from glory. But the fight is not over compatriots, the fight to save the this world, these people of ours is not yet over. For where there was always been lawlessness, war, injustice and tyranny; the Enclave too has always been there as a beacon of hope, and peace and freedom. We are fighting the fight against all of the evils of this world to save it from itself. The Oil Rig, was a great tragedy, one which we present here all know will never be repeated again; how could we let something of equal magnitude befall our people again? Let us never forget the six-hundred and fifty four citizens who’s lives were taken from they last week by the forces of evil and tyranny. Let us never waver in our never-ceasing, steadfast devotion and loyalty to the cause! The Project is our salvation America, by this hour in another reality we would be entering our fifth day of celebration, that is how close we were, the Project will be completed again, the Project will set us free! Long live the Enclave! Long live America!”

There was a unified burst of approval and a roar of triumph from the crowd; however, between the bloodthirsty battle cries and sobbing devoted chants of the people, there were delayed responses. Sutler, who had momentarily paused to catch his breath between his yells of “The Enclave is not dead!” saw one of the citizens, only fleetingly, who seemed to hold the composure of the politicians, he stood solemnly without saying a word before breaking into the same as everyone else, Sutler pushed it out of his mind. After some two minutes of frenzy the crowd all eventually fell into the usually, slow rhythmic chant of “U-S-A, U-S-A,” which even the politicians always joined in on, and an instrumental of Star Spangled Banner erupted from the speakers and, for a second, seemed to drown the chant in it’s volume; such was the way that the ‘Hates’ aboard the Oil Rig had ended, so shall they be continued here.

Next came the obituaries for some of the Nation’s heroes, first and foremost being President Richardson. “President Richardson, is the true embodiment of what it means to be a patriot, his steadfast dedication to the Project and us, which he valued for more than his own life in-fact is a shining example of what we should all strive to be. He was a man whom worked tirelessly to see that our future’s would all be glorious; I can only pray that he never realised what had became of everything before he died, for a life and loyalty like his to end in such a manner would be an affront to every faith I hold dear.” Richardson received the twenty-one gun saluted, as did Vice President Bird, a man who was one of the first volunteers for the vaccination testing and lost his mind as a result, another American hero. The list went on until; “Oscar Sutler was a noble man, he and his wife, July, were responsible for so many of the functions and committees which strived to improve every facet of our life; they were a family of patriots and proud Americans. I am glad that such an honoured family as the Sutlers, whom were among the Enclave’s very founders, can still continue today, their son, Alan, is with us today amongst the crowd and will do his legacy and his country proud as three centuries of Sutlers have done before.”

* * * * *

Sutler had his head hung low, lounging in a chair outside in the courtyard watching the various people mill around, the whole day had been a funeral for all the people; most of whom still enjoyed the Sun’s evening rays; indeed it was quite remarkable how quickly everyone had taken to it’s omnipresence over their heads as a black metal ceiling had once done a week ago. Granite was near him, both men were, and indeed had been since their return, at least to each other, silent.

“Well that’s the gist of it Sutler, the ECC is finished as with it, so are we as a team; I’ve already told Autumn.”

Sutler said nothing, Granite just had around him an aura of something indefinable which put Sutler off, he wasn’t the same man anymore, and whilst that could be said of anyone in Navarro, it wasn’t like that with Granite; Sutler couldn’t explain it even to himself. Granite patted Sutler on the shoulder gently and marched away, Sutler looked up to watch him go, he had always respected Granite and to leave things as they were between them didn’t seem right; yet Sutler didn’t move, he just watched him walk away and into the cafeteria. Sutler remained seated for a further half of an hour, mostly just watching the Sun trace it’s way down past the horizon, when suddenly, Israel came from behind him and took Granite’s previously vacated spot.
He smiled at Sutler, who, having removed his helmet some time ago, smiled back; Israel had an affectionate way of smiling at him already, it reminded him of his father. “I heard that your unit had been dissolved, hell, the whole department has been I’m sorry.”

The feeling that Sutler had ascoiated with Granite had gone and Sutler replied, more than a little hoarsely before then clearing his throat, “yes, it’s a damn shame. We did good…” Sutler coughed and even went a little pale. “We did good work.”

“My unit, well, Captain Kreger’s unit…” Sutler gasped. “What?”

Sutler then remembered their story. “Nothing… Israel.”

“Still feel a little unusual being on first name basis.”

“A little,” Sutler grunted awkwardly. “It was always Pop and Mom, even Granite, Spencer and Autumn were, well, Granite, Spencer and Autumn. Can I just call you Gannon please?”

Israel smiled. “Of course, well anyway, what I wanted was to say that we have been a man down for a while, Doctor Henry, the man just disappeared one day; never did find out what happened… Regardless I have been talking to Captain Kreger, Moreno and Johnson about seeing someone to bring you into our squad as our marksmen; you did mainland ops right, I mean more than just patrols and I am sure that one of the politicians will owe your late father a favour, what do you say?”

Sutler nodded slightly, “okay sure thing.”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to, it even seems strange to me asking someone whom I now consider family to join my military unit, maybe I’ll be doing the same again in a decade or so when my kids grown up.”

“You have a child?” Asked Sutler confused.

“Oh sorry, Roxanne is about two months pregnant; with all of the commotion I neglected to mention it.”

Sutler reached out and shook Israel’s hand. “Well I have to say congratulations, it would be an honour to serve with you, if we can swing it.”

Israel took the hand and, indeed, placed his other on Sutler’s wrist, making the bond tighter. “I am sure we can, I’ll introduce you to the men tomorrow.”

12th March, 2242

* * * * *

Only five members of the Political caste had survived the destruction of the Oil Rig, Secretary of the Interior Joseph Halt, Senators Marie Brisbane of Deck 4 Sectors 1-4, Patrick Donovan of Deck 4 Sectors 5-8, Morrison Wallace of Deck 3 Sectors 1-4 and Secretary of Homeland Restoration Giles Barrisford; of these fortunate individuals, it was Senator Brisbane whom Sutler had called upon to request reassignment to Kreger’s squad, whom he had yet to meet, she had been greatly supported by the Sutler family during her last two Senatorial Elections. Though subdued beneath a never ending cavalcade of logistical problems, she assured Sutler that “she would see the process completed immediately as it would take little more than a phone call to the appropriate authority”.

Israel had waited outside of the office and beamed at Sutler when he left the Senator’s improvised quarters with a weak smile, which during the current upheaval was a rare thing. He then led Sutler down the stairs and through the lobby of the only recently opened and hastily renovated Administration Wing for the pre-war refinery complex; it still bore noticeable signs of being only just being used, floodlights connected to portable generators stood inactive in the corners of rooms. The noon Sun hanging overhead made the surface of the courtyard blisteringly hot, almost directly above them, once they had left the lobby, were a pair of screens broadcasting one of Halt’s speeches.

“…defending freedom & liberty in it’s hour of ultimate peril against the tyrannical hordes; in these coming months our lack of repose, our loyalty and our belief in the fight for freedom will determine the fate of the whole world for the rest of time.”

Despite it having become the new center of government; its immediate exterior was still a forest of refugee tents whilst some of the older buildings were being opened up. The only open space left intact was what had become known as the Courtyard since yesterday, it was a massive field of tarmac surrounded by the industrial and storage facilities of the refinery and was the only place large enough on the compound to hold the entire population of the United States before a podium. The men circumnavigated the tents, all of which were empty now as the citizens ambled around aimlessly, looking for some kind of objective, task, even if it was just somewhere to sit down as there tents came with only a footlocker (in almost every case empty) and a military cot. Sutler had always had something to do aboard the Oil Rig, from waking to sleeping again, he had been engaged in military affairs, committees or some kind of self-bettering activity; he couldn’t imagine what all these people must be doing now, with no machinery to operate, no lists or forms to fill and refill.

Sutler had judged, correctly, that all facilities at Navarro must be fully employed, every piece of gym equipment in use and every bookshelf bare, for people to do be doing nothing; they had always been told that idle thumbs are akin to communist tyrants. The idea of doing exactly nothing was abhorrent to Sutler and he pined for the citizens whom he passed, they just sat looking around completely lost or oblivious to all the world. Most of the displaced citizens had formed massive queues in the Courtyard for the two gymnasiums, woefully and yet gleefully basking in Halt’s repeated broadcasts and interludes of patriotic music as though being provided relief and sanctity from some terrible evil; 75% of the citizens wouldn’t even make it inside the buildings.

Whilst crossing the Courtyard, a tanned, handsome man with smooth black hair and flanked by a pair of troopers, the officer in the centre wore that typical of his rank whilst the two troopers behind him wore the similar uniform of enlisted personnel when off-duty and indeed identical to that which Sutler wore himself; Sutler and Israel saluted the apparent Captain Kreger who returned it smartly before loosening and offering Sutler his hand.

“Well, Lieutenant Gannon informs me that you are the new edition to our unit Private Sutler; I believe that you were a member of the Enclave Control Company, a SDM?”

“Yes sir, I served as the Squad Designated Marksmen under Sergeant Granite and have engaged in a dozen Mainland Ops which, to the best of my knowledge, remain classified.”

“It’s okay Sutler, I understand the nature and finality of ‘Mainland Ops’. I understand however that your unit was going to be disbanded anyway and you were to be among the first wave of colonists; what do you think of Navarro?”

Sutler stammered, “Well sir. It is currently difficult to formulate an opinion, I remember only a week ago dreading coming the prospect of living here instead of the Oil Rig, now I can say in all certainty that I would much rather prefer the present circumstances.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you were adjusting, your one of my men now Private Sutler, and I look after my men. And whilst we are off-duty you can pack in all the sirs, it’s Judah.”

Israel smiled in an amused manner and interjected before Sutler could reply. “I’ve already been through this with Alan Judah,” Israel looked at Sutler. “Will Kreger suffice?” Sutler nodded before continuing.

“Thank you for the warm welcome Captain Kreger.”

“Don’t mention it Sutler, I suppose that it is kind of ridiculous to assume that you’d be instantly comfortable being on such terms with a man you’ve only just met; now I’ll quit by stranglehold of your attention and leave you to my fellow compatriots; who I believe are more than capable of introducing themselves.”

The man to Kreger’s left stepped forward and, without invitation, grasped Sutler’s right hand with both of his own and shook it violently. “Pleased to meet you Mr Sutler, my name is Orion Moreno and I would like to offer my condolences for the loss of your family; proud men and women who for generations fought tirelessly against the forces of tyranny and who, like us all, were cut-short on the final steps of our glorious victory, though I am sure that you will uphold the honour and legacy of the Sutler family.”

Sutler was rather taken aback by such a hearty welcome, he had onboard the Oil Rig, mostly affiliated with fellow members of the Executive/Political caste who all of course knew of his background. The man had a similar pigment to Kreger, with a round face and a strong jaw line, even whilst wearing his uniform one could tell that he was built like an Ox. “Thank you Moreno, I have to say that your enthusiasm is most refreshing, I am sure that you’ve been a proud and dedicated trooper and will give Uncle Sam and Richardson’s memory another two decades of service.”

The other man to Kreger’s right, whom Sutler would later learn was called Obadiah Johnson, seemed lost in though throughout most of his compatriots introductions and merely stood with his chin resting upon his index finger and thumb of his right hand; as dead to the world as some of the citizens. Before Sutler could say another word to Moreno, the volume of the screens was increased as so to be audible over even deep conversation, thereby signalling an important official announcement; the burst of triumphant fanfare erupted from the speakers and the voice of Acting President Halt was loud, clear and reassuringly commanding as always.

“All citizens are to convene immediately on the Courtyard and assemble into your positions for a national announcement, I repeat, national announcement in the Courtyard immediately.”

* * * * *

The crowd immediately snapped to attention at the sound which heralded the coming of the President, from every speaker in Navarro, Hail to the Chief played loudly and the Politicians, led by Halt, climbed the steps to the podium and took there places. The same as yesterday, the official announcement podium had been erected before three, two-story vertical tanks which may have been used to store water and another pre-war fluid; now, each was decked with a flag and before it the leaders of the free world looked across a vast sea of predominately black and blue. Two columns had formed, from the podium, the one of Halt’s left was an army, row after row of black uniformed troopers only occasionally broken up by the sight of an officer; even further to the left of the main bodies of troopers were the base’s technicians and military mechanics who wore a hybrid of a jumpsuit and a military tunic. Closer than everyone however were a small cluster of men who wore labcoats over their tunics, Lieutenant Colonel Dr Augustus Autumn Senior being the most prominent of the bunch; despite the variety of uniforms and functions that they all served, they were all members of the United States Army and all saluted their President with honour. To Halt’s right were a vast swarm of blue jumpsuits broken up by an occasional lab coat worn over, indicating a civilian physician or scientist; they all stood with their right hands placed firmly over their hearts. Halt and the other Politicians, who had formed a semi-circle on the podium behind him, all stood in what can be best described as the military position of “at-ease”, their legs evenly spaced apart and their hands crossing over the bases of their spine.

“Citizens of the Enclave of the United States of America, today marks the end of the period of mourning; whilst only nationally recognised yesterday: I, my compatriots behind me and certain members of the crowd who stand so steadfastly and proud before me, have been preparing plans for the immediate survival of our nation through this indescribable crisis. We have begun to build even further of the first set of emergency security precautions and have also began to look to our immediate future. Our supply of food has now become our primary concern, assuming that the reputation amongst the mainlanders of this place and the area around still holds true. Now, the Project, our glorious salvation, was in the final stages before deployment; indeed it is this fact which has already gone so far as to guarantee our continuation. So close to our day of victory was it that the first shipments of agricultural equipment had already arrived from the Oil Rig, this would have been your future citizens, the building of the first natural farms for centuries, our inauguration to life on the mainland; you can still achieve that goal! We have here, stocks of agricultural equipment, vast quantities of our, Enclave-perfected, GM crops which keep us fed, health & happy, in addition we have also received one of what was supposed to be three Vault-Tec Garden of Eden Creation Kits. The culmination of these devices will be that we will be able to continue our healthy way of life completely unhindered. Beginning tomorrow, the temporary housing will be removed and you will all be housed in civilian bunkhouses from renovated buildings. All unoccupied ground-space aside from this courtyard and that needed to allow our wondrous fleet of Vertibird aircraft to take off, will become farmland, this is require great effort on the part on our part to remove all of the tarmac to allow the GECKs’ to prepare the land for planting!

The next matter concerns the new security plans we have for the facility, all US Army personnel not assigned to the renovation effort will begin in the construction of the first of potentially many anti-infantry trenches which will surround the facility. These trenches will create a gap of some 10 meters and will be 8 meters deep; in the event of a large-scale assault on the facility these trenches will provide our gallant troopers valuable time to annihilate all of our aggressors, all of the tyrants and barbarians who seeks to obliterate our hopes and dreams, to destroy our way of life. Citizens, we will have a busy series of weeks before us but we shall prevail! Long live the Enclave!”

Almost instantly after Halt had finished, Star-Spangled Banner began to play and the entire population of the United States kept their positions for the total duration of the anthem before being ordered to cash in their final meal rations in and immediately retire to sleep for the long day of labour which would begin tomorrow.

Thought the latest edition was brilliant, if this was a book I wouldn't be putting it down!

2nd April, 2242

The wastes taunted Sutler as his papers were returned to him by the sentry; the first trench had been completely dug out, stretching all of the way around Navarro’s perimeter, even, indeed, through the old road which had lead to the refinery before the war. A makeshift bridge had been constructed over the trench, though this too was wired with plasma explosives in case of an attack, to allow personnel into-and-out-of the facility; patrols had effectively ceased by this point, the reason for
which, Sutler assumed, was to attract less undue attention from the mainlanders.

However, patrols were sometimes sent out, if only to provide the troopers with more actually experience. Navarro’s combat simulators (which were comparatively few in number, Navarro not being a training facility and having nowhere near the population levels of the Oil Rig) were always occupied; bookings by squad leaders had to be placed days in advance and time within the simulation, regardless of group size, had been restricted to two hours which made several historical campaigns completely impossible to complete in a single sitting.

He hadn’t left Navarro since arriving just under a month ago, the endless wastes stretched out before him, harkening him back to when he stood on sentry duty whilst Autumn and Granite had slept, tears pooling in the bottom of his helmet. How I hate every grain of baked soil on this desolate continent, he cursed within the recesses of his mind; beneath his helmet he suddenly looked confused, should I have thought that? he thought, almost terrified as though he had let slip something obscene.

“Private Sutler, what’s the matter?”

Sutler had stopped and had lagged a few feet behind the rest of the squad, Kreger was looking right at him.

“Nothing sir, I – nothing.”

“We need to complete this patrol as quickly as possible Private, Navarro needs our strong arms and will to make it back as soon as possible and lend in the smashing of the tarmac; those GM soy beans won’t plant themselves.”

Sutler watched Kreger turn back around; Sutler had no idea what had possessed him that morning to take the liquid with him in place of water, he had told nobody of course, but ever since the night that he had taken a sip on the coast and dropped the bottle in fear of poison, he had had an almost pathological urge to try the strange, brown Chinese liquid again. He made sure that nobody was looking, though the canteen being opaque meant that nobody would suspect it’s contents regardless, detached a small part of his helmet, uncovering his mouth before taking a quick and tentative gulp. He tried to betray nothing of what he was doing as the thick liquid oozed down his throat, it felt like it was burning him; yet, having not spat it out in fear, he realised that the sensation, whilst a shock at first (particularly in the light of ‘throat burning’ comments from Mrs Kreger), was actually rather pleasant; it tasted funny and sweet, similar to the strawberry sauce from the desert ration. Sutler took another drink before returning the canteen to his belt, reassembling his helmet and double-timing to join the rest of the group.

After fifteen minutes, Moreno turned to Johnson, whom, like Sutler previously, had been lagging behind though in an manner that didn’t indicate that his mind had simply “wandered off”, it was as though he was intentionally hanging back.

“Corporal Johnson!” Moreno yelled over the barrels of his monstrous Gatling Laser. “Why do you keep trying to cover you six? Private Sutler’s got that position under control.”

Johnson waited a moment before responding, if Sutler had to hazard a guess he would have said that Johnson had no answer, but then why would he have been steadily shifting backwards?

“I was making sure the Private Sutler was covering all angles, last thing that we need is an attack from behind and lose our marksmen.”

Seemingly agreeing with Johnson, Moreno looked forward and again; Kreger was watching from ahead, once the discussion had ended though he stared at Johnson for another full second before Moreno was about to overtake him, prompting him to continue leading the squad through the wastes.

“Thank you for the assistance sir,” Sutler said, walking level to Johnson who had begun to creep back towards the main cluster of men. “But I can guarantee at I will not allow any assailants to catch me unawares.”

“Sure Private, particularly in light of recent events, one can never be so certain.”

Sutler, not offended but rather in full, nervous, agreement, nodded and let Johnson get ahead of him before continuing. It wasn’t until another twenty minutes after this that something interesting happened, they came over the crest of a hill and heard from below a scampering which had presumably came from the trembling form of a ‘man’ from behind a rock; Moreno chuckled darkly and squeezed off a few bolts of red light; his feeling of satisfaction however had turned to surprise as he, his weapon and his fire swung to the left from a hand which had pushed him just before engaging. Moreno looked in shock at the figure who had pushed his weapon aside, reading the name and rank stencilled on the chest carapace of the figure;

CPL O. Johnson
00-001-351

“Christ Johnson what the hell is wrong with you? You through me off my shot.”

There was a splattering sound from behind the rock coupled with the quiet sound electrical discharge, Moreno looked past Johnson to his right (who indeed also removed his hand from Moreno’s weapon and did a 180) at Sutler who relaxed his aim, ejected the clip from his magazine and topped it up with one of his loose rounds.

“There was no need to kill that man, he merely stumbled upon our territory, he has no idea what we are, what’s the point?”

Sutler and Moreno were indignant, despite having been quite friendly with Johnson prior, though Sutler had noticed that he seemed to be in a daydream most of the time, he was now livid at such a ridiculous statement; to think that early he had doubted himself.

“The point is following orders sir, the point is that we have a duty to follow what our superiors tell us to do. Proposition 312 grants patrolmen like us maximum jurisdiction over illegal aliens on US territory. That was an enemy agent, now dead sir.”

Johnson to was pretty lively, if Sutler could see beneath Johnson’s helmet at the almost pitying look that he wore, Sutler may have lashed out, despite his non-violent nature. “That Private was nothing more than a bum, a piece of mainland trash, but did he need to die? No, think of it as not wasting ammunition if you prefer.”

Sutler looked confused. “Well that is the only possible reason I can think of for neglecting to fire on an enemy. ‘If I prefer?’ What exactly do you have in mind sir?”

Johnson looked, furiously, away before retorting. “The man was wearing a damn tunic of animal hide, he didn’t even have shoes; he was a nobody, sparing him would have resulted in just the same as killing him, absolutely nothing.”

Sutler’s confusion, and indeed Moreno’s, was mounting over his anger. “Then what would be the point of letting him leave, if nothing bad will come of it why not just kill him; he’s nothing but a mainlander, an illegal alien on our territory.”

“You honestly think that there was nothing wrong with what you just did, he was innocent, he merely stumbled upon us and you killed him in cold blood when you could have let him go; neither option has any impact on you, why not just be indifferent?”

Sutler was nothing but exasperated now, that and slightly shocked at such idiocy which he never before had believed possible from a fellow human being. However, Moreno interjected before Sutler could.

“You’ve been like this since… since the damn Oil Rig Johnson, what’s your problem, you’ve done stuff like this before, killed in similar situations which I am going to guess are like this ‘cold blood’.”

“The Enclave is a joke Moreno, Doctor Henry knew, that’s why he disappeared on patrol, packed all this [censored] in and ran; we were told that something like the Oil Rig incident was impossible, I believed in Richardson and the politicians like your father Sutler, and where are we now, dead; the Enclave is dead! My family is dead.”

“All of our families are dead Johnson!” Kreger finally stepped in, Sutler had no idea where he was until now but he stepped roughly in the centre of the men and looked around at them all. “Now listen men, we’re all soldiers, proud soldiers, professional soldiers. [censored] like this is typical of them.” Kreger pointed in a random direction, at nothing in particular but the wastes. “But not us, let’s just have faith and keep moving, get home, have a nice meal, a good sing and a good sleep. Think of it like this Johnson if you prefer, it’s a damn site more than anyone out there has, so shut the [censored] up and count your graces that your not one of those bastards. Don’t make me swear like that again, you all know that swearing is frowned upon.”

“But sir, he is speaking treason surely, how can we serve with this traitor.”

“I love my men Sutler, now please let’s just get home.”

Sutler was silenced, as was everyone by this point, they made their way along their assigned route without another word being spoke; when they returned to Navarro, Israel, who had been assigned to work on the tarmac removal that day, couldn’t believe the men who returned home, whom he had been waiting for since finishing his shift. Kreger silently beckonded him over whistl Sutler, Moreno and Johnson drifted in different directions. As Israel followed Kreger’s call, looking at each of them in confusion, Moreno grabbed Sutler’s arm and pulled him aside, in the direction of the cafeteria.

It was 7 o’clock and the place was full of people enjoying their evening rations after a brutal day of agricultural work. Granite and Sutler however managed to find an empty table in the corner beside and American flag and beneath a screen from which was playing a http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbvQGTQxVUU&feature=related, the name of which Sutler couldn’t quite remember.

They ate nothing, having sat straight down, it transpired that Moreno wanted nothing more than to discuss the days events in private. “I really don’t understand,” he said dejectedly after some period of silence. “Johnson’s never had any problem following 312 before, I just can’t quite figure out what prompted that little display earlier.”

“I must admit, though I have known the man for significantly less time than you, that any reason for such insanity eludes me; I cannot, in-fact, even seem to recall any precise words that he said, just inane rambling. Can you?”

“I know, it’s strange that I can’t remember anything he said, all I feel is anger towards him, like an enemy, like he struck a nerve.”

They never got around to saying anything else, both simply sat in silent thought, pausing briefly to listen to some committee somewhere singing:

Strong and peaceful, wise and brave,
Fighting the fight for the whole world to save!
We the people do ceaselessly strive,
To keep out great con-stit-ution alive!

3rd April, 2242

“I confess to the crime of treason, I subjugated orders vital to our operations and purposefully mislead those under my command into action which aided my private campaign against freedom and democracy. I entered mainland settlements and solicited six from mainland prosttutes, I purposefully exposed myself to areas and substances with mutagenic properties with the intention of introducing genetic impurities into the genealogy that our ancestors have, for so long, strived to keep safe from the ravages of radiation. I am guilty of treason to our great nation and our way of life.”

After the man had finished a hole was bore through the back of his head by a laser pistol and the body collapsed to the floor of the podium to the triumphant cries of “Traitor!” and various cheers. A trooper came from the side, grabbed the legs of the corpse and dragged it off the podium to further applause. Halt stowed return his laser pistol to its holster and, now that the body was gone, returned to the front of the podium.

“And there compatriots we have it; another traitor amongst our organisation is dead and the United States is stronger for it. These malcontents, responsible for the destruction of the ENCLAVE, may still exist amongst us; I urge all citizens who may know of any individuals acting suspiciously to report it to someone in authority immediately. However, I will ask that you do not act to hastily, this is no time for hysteria; only report genuine incidents, do not take matters into your own hands; any case presented will be considered. Through all of our steadfast perseverance will shall prevail! We humans will take back that which is rightfully ours! Long live the United States of America!”

The speakers begun to play the national anthem, the gathered masses stiffened into the saluting gestures and sung over the instrumental of Star-Spangled Banner.

“…O! say can you see by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
And the rockets' red glare, atom bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”

An hour after the execution, Sutler and Moreno were stood in front of Kreger who was angrier than they had seen him since the patrol.

“Look you two, I don’t care what you think is going on with Johnson. You will under no circumstances report him as a traitor. Moreno, we’ve served with him for a year now, he’s as loyal as anyone of us, period! This is a direct order, you will under no circumstances report him. He’s confused and hurt, so are we all I know but clearly Johnson isn’t handling it very well. Just give him a while and he’ll be fine, you know that he’s never done anything like what that traitorous vermin that the President just destroyed, he never often left your side Moreno. Give him time, that’s an order, dismissed.”

Sutler and Moreno saluted the Captain, turned on their heels and marched away. The conversation had been held around the old kennels after Sutler and Moreno had simultaneously agreed to report Johnson; they figured that Kreger would too be ecstatic about reporting Johnson; instead he had led them to the deserted and secretive area. Moreno was fuming.

“Look,” he said, carming down he walked alongside Sutler. “I don’t want to report Johnson, he and I were friends and I don’t believe that he has performed the obscenities like him on the podium; but what if he does, this is the best possible chance to apprehend him, before he has had chance to act and spread his poison.”

Sutler too had been furious after seeing the execution, fuelled by patriotic rage and the desire to do good; now it was wearing off, he was uneasy. Had he not in his footlocker a bottle of mainlander poison which had oddly fascinated him, had he not continued even to drink it occasionally? As soon as I have shook Moreno I’ll destroy that thing.

“I agree Moreno, whilst I have no idea of what he has done, I can only begin to imagine what he will do. He is dangerous, but we’ll obey the Captain and keep our own eye on him; how does that sound?”

Moreno nodded, something which had been accepted as an alternative to a smile by the troopers who wore helmets all day. “Sounds good Sutler, we’ll nail the bastard one day I guarantee it. I don’t like it, but if he’s got traitorous tendencies then they need to be stopped and serves him right.”

Sutler would later note that the next few months would pass with little incident; after the first trench had been completed, it had almost immediately been widened and then a second constructed. Tall corn stalks, soy and strawberry plants blanketed what had been car parks and roads; it was an unforgiving diet, which soon became monotonous after it was consumed by the third time of everyday. Roxanne’s pregnancy had become much more noticeable as she passed the three then fourth month mark, she was most uncomfortable with the fact that her jumpsuits had had to be mutilated with patches and other modifications to accommodate her. At least she has stopped rushing out of the apartment for the bathroom, Sutler had thought; it distressed Sutler to see the women who had become, essentially, his surrogate mother in such distress, despite her interjections to the contrary.

6th June, 2242

“We’ve decided to name the baby Arcade Israel, after my father and me respectively, if it’s a boy and Jillian after Roxanne’s mother if it’s a girl.” Gannon said cheerfully.

Kreger’s squad was out on more regular patrols again; now that the work had slacked off, if only slightly, someone in charge had come to the conclusion that increased field work had to be done to off-set the lack of onsite training equipment.

“The young compatriot in her is getting more noticeable every day I have to admit Gannon,” Sutler said.

“How’s she keeping?” Kreger shouted back. As he was leading the squad, and anxious to get them back to Navarro as quickly as possible, he did not halt the men to ask this question; Sutler had figured that maybe it was to minimise the time that he and Moreno had to be exposed to Johnson, whilst they hadn’t locked horns again, the tension was still present and Gannon too, now having been clued in, was eager to get home. “I mean,” Kreger continued. “The rations here aren’t exactly what a pregnant women needs, we have no means of producing the various supplements from here.”

“She’s doing as well as she can,” Gannon responded grimly, finishing with a sigh. “They’ve doubled here rations, particularly soy, and she seems fine but Roxanne is more stubborn than she’ll ever let on. In all honesty it’s the boredom I worry about too, she’s been taken off all duty rosters now and doesn’t do anything all day, it’s not good for any of us to be doing nothing.”

“It doesn’t do too be talking about such things,” said Johnson. “Look have the Department of Energy given you anything new yet?”

“I think that I’m going to be field testing some new software on one of the military Pip-Boys, some improved method of co-ordinating Eyebot reconnaissance.”

Moreno, who had took point beside Kreger, said Gruffly. “Your gonna have to tell us the rest some other time. Got us some targets here.” He pointed to a tent up ahead, they heard noises and laughter from inside it. “Orders sir?”

Kreger didn’t hesitate but it was with a definite cool edge to his voice that he said, “Moreno engage.”
Sutler was almost disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see Johnson’s physical reaction, but he would watch him closely, he hadn’t said anything yet.

Moreno took a firm stance, checked his Gatling Laser before tracing across the tent, aiming roughly at human waist height; there were screams from the tent, a women in fear and a man in pain.

“John?” The women was screaming. “John! No John, no we need you John, hold on please.” She gurgled away in blubbering noises and tears. The squad approached the tent cautiously, there was no movement from the women, who was still sobbing; something had caused her to scream again in shock but no more voices had been heard. Sutler, being the only man equipped to properly deal with such short ranges, took point as they all gathered around the tent flap; Sutler whipped it aside with a flash of his arm and burst through the open flap.

Inside the tent is was mostly dark, aside now from the line of holes on the left side of the tent’s fabric from which light streamed though in a brilliant contrast to the darkness. A few other supplies cluttered the tent, a few bed rolls, a foldout table, a chair and a pair of footlockers to name a few. The women had not reacted to Sutler presence but instead struggled for breath between her outbursts, she had backed against the side of the tent, the body of a half-dressed African-American male lay, blasted in half, in the centre of the tent. Sutler also noticed that something which appeared to be a makeshift crib had been up against the side that Moreno had shot, its frame had been blasted to pieces and lay in barely definable across the room; the base and some red cloth lay facedown close to the body of the man. Sutler looked down at it before exhaling loudly through his nose and shooting the women in the torso. They decided to leave scene as a warning for anyone else; Johnson took six, though he hadn’t asked, and said nothing for the rest of the patrol.

A sincere apology on my part, in my own arrogance and confidence in my knowledge of the Enclave, I took Arcade’s canonical birth-date, which I always remembered as 4 years after the ENCLAVE was destroyed, extrapolated that into Navarro’s probable destruction by the NCR… but then forgot that it was Arcade’s birth-date that led me to that conclusion. Also, in case I haven’t mentioned it earlier, the Oil Rig will now, and always has, been referred to as the ENCLAVE. Also sorry for the delay, whoever reads this.

Summer-Autum, 2242

As the months crept by, Navarro became more ‘homely’, detritus of unemployed citizens had been found tasks farming the new crops, learning new trades in various fields of mechanics and first aid; six o’clock, every Tuesday, even marked an early finish for the for amateur baseball games, with the current two teams, the ‘Navarro Patriots’ and the ‘Richardson Revolution’, playing gradually improving games of baseball. However, there were further difficulties for almost everyone to overcome, the Enclave citizens and, indeed, everyone outside of power armour and exposed to the Sun, suffered bad sun-burn and heat strokes for weeks on end, causing massive disruption to the agricultural effort. Only those who had been at Navarro before the ENCLAVE had been destroyed coped with the Sun and picked up a heavy workload as the converted offices which served as the larger infirmary was packed with groaning, red-skinned citizens burned so badly and quickly that they couldn’t move. Fortunately, the citizens had immediately been assured by President Halt that, “Obviously, due to the infallibility of those who came before, the ENCLAVE was designed to replicate natural sunlight for our basic human bodily functions, our weekly medication compensated for all of the potential vitamin deficiencies that an absence of sunlight may cause; there is absolutely no heightened risk of cancer from sunlight exposure. I will repeat that, there is no heightened risk of cancer.”

Navarro’s defences were finally completed in late August; another 10x8 meter trench had been dug around the first and all of the bases mines exhausted in, in-between and around the trenches. Snipers and officers armed with Gauss Rifles took up positions in the disused https://worldregionsproject.wikispaces.com/file/view/iranian-oil-refinery.jpg/91500023/iranian-oil-refinery.jpg, watching all sides, with the support of Eyebot scouts, for potential enemy encroachment; though nothing had been seen, a constant and vigilant watch was kept.

Sutler’s bond with Moreno grew stronger; they spent most of their free-time together at the firing range, national addresses and the cafeteria on an evening, occasionally with the Gannons’, Kreger and sometimes Johnson was dragged along with the others. Conversely, he had grown distant and, at times, even cold with Autumn and Granite, whom he now rarely saw outside of official duties; Granite and Autumn too did not frequent often. A sense of awkwardness and unease, which Sutler couldn’t explain, just seem to hang around them when they met; they would all eventually make rushed excuses and leave each others company as quickly as possible.

Through the summer however, a change in wind currents resulted in some of the almost constant grey clouds, that hung over Los Angeles, being blown northwards; the ENCLAVE refugees reacted in two ways, panic and awe. Sutler was among the former, even in his power armour, the ominous black cloud racing towards them could contain only radioactive rain and he ran for the safety of a nearby building, picking up a young child and pulling along a mother as he ran for the safety of shelter. Some saw the black mass on the horizon and almost waited for it to come to pass, Sutler noticed that Johnson was among these. Eventually President Halt issued a bulletin that most rain was relatively radiation free, if not physically clean, and whilst exposure wasn’t recommended it would in no way “Compromise the genetic identity we hold so dear”; he ended by saying that any potentially dangerous weather would be detected in advance and the proper security procedures would be taken. The rain became more frequent as the months progressed, occurring on a bi-weekly basis, and rapidly became little more than a nuisance than a threat or wonder.

4th November, 2242

Finally, on the 4th of November, Roxanne Gannon was rushed into labour, unfortunately Kreger and the squad were out on patrol at the time and not authorised for an early return. When they finally made it back to Navarro, three hours after the fact, Sutler was sure that Kreger had cut corners to get back faster; Roxanne had experienced complications and had a suzerain birth. By the time that Gannon and the rest of the squad had piled into the ward, still in their power armour, the young ‘Arcade’ was wrapped in some blue cloth from a jumpsuit and was being slowly rocked to sleep by Roxanne. The squad held back whilst Israel made his way over, there wasn’t enough room for everyone, to his little son whom he picked up in his gloved hands; the cold of the power armour pressing against him however woke him and Sutler, Kreger, Granite and Johnson retreated from the room to change into something more appropriate. Any tension between them seemed to have vanished in the face of the miracle of life and the squad, united, all stood around Roxanne’s bed, smiling at the little sleep Arcade Israel Gannon.

15th November, 2242

The rain was coming down quite fiercely that evening; Sutler and Moreno, being off-duty, were huddled around a small table, close to a Halt Screen, in the primary cafeteria by Navarro’s external entrance. As Moreno had paused in his speech to take a mouthful of his rations, Sutler had glanced out of the window, it was only five o’clock in the evening but, being winter, it was almost as dark as midnight. Through
the darkness Sutler could still make-out the towering hulks of sentries, braving the rain in their power armour they stood, ever vigilant, guarding Navarro’s every doorway.

“So why did you join the Army in the first place Alan?” Said Moreno pushing his now empty tray to the side, “Being the son of a Political, especially a Sutler, I figured that you would have joined your old man in the suits; never had any ambition to be the next Sutler in the Office of the President?”

Sutler laughed, “Me President? No the Enclave of the now, especially the now I guess, was much different to that of 2174 when Emily Sutler was elected to the Office of the President. Any President now must forever labour under Richardson’s shadow, we were so damn close!”

They shared a solemn moment together before Moreno tried to steer the conversation somewhere else. “So what was your plan?”

“Well I was going to do a few tours of duty on the mainland to do my patriotic duty for Uncle Sam, and a sack-full of medals to impress the girl.” Sutler winked and smiled. “Then maybe try and climb the political ladder; but of course that was cut short very quickly as I was assigned to be one of the first colonists after the Project.”

Sutler suddenly thought for a moment, “I’m 22 to-day, I’ve just remembered.”

Moreno nodded in acknowledgement, “Did you know that before the war, all birthdays were celebratory in nature?”

Sutler scoffed, “Yes I had heard, silly right? There’s getting your first work assignment, there’s becoming an advlt human being but then there’s just plain ridiculous.”

“There were other’s too,” Moreno continued, leaning inwards slightly. “My friend from school later became a junior technician and for his assignment he had to programme one of the old Pip-Boys after all of it’s settings had been reset. Well anyway, the day he sat down to do it was… sometime in late December I think; so he gets up to get a glass of water and when he comes back the usual screensaver is different. In the centre of the screen are the words ‘Merry Christmas’ and behind it are solid rain drops falling slowly.”

“You mean snow?”

“Yeah that’s the stuff; snow, I wonder what it felt like?”

“Well pretty damn cold I would imagine compatriot, nothing more.”

Moreno scowled at Sutler ruining his pre-war romanticism; he was silent for a moment before saying slyly.

“You know, I heard that this ‘Christmas day’ was just as hyped as Independence Day.” Moreno smirked at Sutler look of shock.

“You’re jesting surely?” He said finally. “Equal to the birth of our glorious nation? With such pervasive madness it’s no wonder we had nuclear war; good job the Enclave was there to save us all.”

“Indeed compatriot.”

Sutler was about to continue when he was cut of by the Halt Screen above him.

“Agricultural output has increased by 33% over the last two months in comparison with those prior; the Enclave will survive this storm and into the future! Through the tenacity of our citizens…” Halt was suddenly cut off by the sound of a klaxon, simultaneously the heads of everyone in the room began looking at the screens. “This is not a drill, this is not a drill. All personnel are ordered to battle stations immediately, all personnel are ordered to battle stations immediately.”

The cafeteria, in seconds, descended into chaos; there was a great sound of scrapping chair legs as people scrambled for the main doors and for the elevator down the corridor. The two main doors slid open and a pair of troopers, whom guarded it outside, came in ushering troopers through the doorways and ordering citizens to proceed to the elevator through the back; it was with these citizens that Moreno and Sutler went as they needed to collect their armour from their quarters. Behind the throng of blue jumpsuits, Sutler and Moreno sprinted; the klaxons could be heard ringing all throughout the corridors, which themselves were a mess of people rushing in all directions. After proceeding the full length of the corridor, a pair of fully equipped troopers directed the some 15 citizens into one of the barracks before entering themselves. It was here in the barracks that Moreno left Sutler, he ran through an already open door into his block, from which Sutler could hear the banging and other sounds of many people hurriedly putting on suits of power armour.

After Sutler had made it to the Gannon’s apartment, he threw open his locker and, as equally hasty, put his power armour on. Urgency had taken over, but as he stopped to put his power armour on however he couldn’t help but curse ‘Christ not again, not again’; The citizens rushing about had reminded him of the pandemonium that was the last day of the ENCLAVE. He left without shutting his locker and, whilst still fastening the buckle of his belt, ran out of the room, took an elevator with nine other troopers to the surface and out into the pouring rain.

Kreger’s squad had a position to the south of the compound, near the Courtyard and, fortunately, near the old industrial towers which contained the Gauss snipers. It seemed most of the other troopers Sutler was with were headed for the same destination; after exiting the small building, which housed only the elevator shaft, the troopers hurtled down a street behind the hangers and out into the main Courtyard. Puddles had formed in some of the holes in the damaged field of concrete, one of which Sutler stomped through as he ran for his post; somewhere behind him, and over the rain, he could hear the sound of more than one Vertibird preparing for take-off. Kreger, waved his over, droplets of rain had formed on the brim of his cap.

“Thank God that these uniforms are weatherproof,” Kreger said, before returning Sutler’s salute. Moreno, Gannon and Johnson were already there and had taken up positions behind one of innumerable barricades which seemed to stretch the full length of the fence perimeter in both directions. Sutler held his pistol in both of hands, looking down the sights but he saw nothing; after the initial noise of everyone arriving at their posts it was now oddly quiet, only the rain bouncing off the road and their armoured backs and the constant sound of Vertibirds, fluctuating with their distance. Sometimes Sutler could just make out wandering red dots moving across the ground behind the perimeter fence from the snipers in the towers above.

“It certainly was intelligent thinking to remove the most of the forest.” Moreno whispered to Sutler. “Otherwise, and God in this darkness, we wouldn’t be able to see anything.”

For what seemed like an eternity, all along Navarro’s perimeter, silence reigned as over two hundred eyes watched all directions for even the slightest sign of movement. Suddenly, the screens around Navarro switched back on, at the sound of President Halt most glanced back at them before looking back across the potential battlefield, Surely more information on whatever threat we’re facing, thought Sutler.

“Attention valiant troopers of the US Army, I have to say that it has been a tremendous honour watching the speed and efficiency with which civilians have been safely secured and in particular the off-duty personnel, whom were at their posts within and ready to defend our valiant vanguard of democracy. This has been a drill compatriots, a drill which, I have to say, you should all be very proud of; tomorrow compatriots the waking klaxons will sound at 08:00 instead of 07:00, you’ve earned the extra rest.”

Gotta say still loving the story, I'm not gonna say keep up the good work as it sounds kind of patronising I think! But the latest chapter was brilliant.

3rd January, 2243

"You are a maggot, a maggot with a steady aim but a maggot all the same!” Sutler watched slyly from his position against the wall of the hanger, his arms folded over torso; Kreger’s squad had just returned from an operation to clear out a system of caves ridden with mainlander filth, when Sergeant Major of the Army Arch Dornan seized Johnson’s arms as he stepped from the Vertibird and roughly dragged him aside for a dressing-down. It never ceased to amuse – and yet anger – Sutler when Johnson was punished for his blatant disobedience.

After burning through most dross at the caves mouth – with no appreciable opposition – repeated forks in the tunnels resulted in Kreger’s squad, and another squad led by a Lieutenant Globus, splitting into pairs and slowly clearing the labyrinth; Sutler partnered with Moreno and after returning from an empty dead-end caught Johnson in the act of escorting a group of mainlanders from the tunnels in the direction of the exit, Israel – his partner – was nowhere to be seen.

Catching Johnson unawares, Sutler held-him-up, grinning maniacally beneath his helmet, sure that Johnson was now doomed; ‘How I wish I could burn you right now’ Sutler thought whist staring into Johnson’s faceplate, knowing that the man behind the orange tinted lenses’ was thinking the exact same. With a curt movement from his pistol, held at hip level, Sutler ordered Johnson to stand aside before then turning it on the five silent and shaking, ragged creatures that Johnson had been escorting and opened fire, covering the distance between them and him as he did so. Of the five, Sutler finished three with Gauss rounds, again, ploughing through the soft targets at impossible speeds and spraying chunks of organic matter over the tunnel walls behind them. One surviving man had fallen over and, in the darkness of the tunnel, Sutler almost took him for dead before noticing that the circle of blood that stained most of his torso was from a lung which had hit him after exploding from the chest of one of the victims; the man was getting up, his hand crawling up the wall trying to find something to support him. As the man got to his feet Sutler grabbed his neck and drew his Ripper before plunging it into the man’s abdomen, dragging it through the torso all the way to the waist and finally pushing the dead man over. The final survivor was another male, his features Sutler didn’t bother to notice as he crossed over to him in a stride; he was one the floor in a state of shock, slowly backing away – and yet facing Sutler – his face frozen in an expression of the initial horror, the same boot was brought down on the man’s head – who made no real movement to avoid his fate – and the crunching of bones told Sutler it was done. Then he turned to Johnson, who had done and said nothing during the slaughter but simply stand and watch, his gloved fists curled in to balls of fury at which Sutler laughed derisively before returning the barrel of his pistol in the direction of Johnson’s torso.

“Where’s Gannon you sick son-of-a-[censored]?” Sutler asked coldly, the traces of smugness having drained away.

“What the [censored] are you saying Sutler? That I killed Israel to save those people? I don’t care if he took you in, I’ve known him a good year longer than you have; a good year of happy times before all this.”

Sutler had to think about this, unsure as to whether we would think Johnson capable of the murder of a fellow compatriot and human being; as he made up his mind that even in Johnson’s depraved mind such a deed would be unforgivable, Gannon rounded a corner and strode towards them, taking in the situation at a glance.
“You wouldn’t honestly believe Johnson capable of murder would you?” Israel asked Sutler.

“Of course not sir but there are more pressing matters at hand here, this traitor was trying to get these people out of the caves.”

“You ditched me for these people?” Israel asked Johnson, slowly turning his head towards him from Sutler.

“Affirmative sir, these are just innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time there’s…”

“These people could tell other people whom could potentially pose a more significant threat to us of our presence in this region, Navarro is kept safe by these patrols making the area a damn site more dangerous than it should be. Secrecy is our shield Johnson and these people did pose a threat to that.”

“There’s just children here, people just trying to get by on the mainland and we have the right to just swoop in and destroy them all without mercy?”

“Our authority comes from the Constitution of this grand nation and from the Office of the President. These bums are what caused the near destruction of this nation, unpatriotic scum then and now.”

“You’re so full of [censored] Sutler and you can’t even realise it,” after giving Sutler his scathing look he turned to Israel. “There’s better in you though Israel admit it, you and Judah both know what I’m talking about.”

Sutler didn’t bother to look at Gannon to see his reaction to such an accusation, he already knew what it was, one of disgust and loathing. Gannon however, indicated no such emotions in his tone and manner but merely said, “That’s Lieutenant Gannon and Captain Kreger Private; Private Sutler, stand-down.”

Sutler obeyed though he did not holster his weapon, we watched Gannon from the corner of his eye, unsure what to expect next. Then suddenly Kreger seemed to stride from the darkness towards them, behind him was a soldier from Globus’s squad; he took simply surveyed the scene with a single sweep of his eyes, though being in an officers uniform Sutler could see his face, it was glaring around at them all.

“What in the name of all that is holy is going on here?” He asked calmly, though his voice was etched with authority.

“This… stinking traitor [censored] was betraying the objectives of the mission,” Sutler spat. “Going behind his compatriots and backs trying to smuggle these spies out of the caves and back to the mainlanders with valuable information.”

“These are just peasants you mad bastard!”

“Enough of that language all of you, as for you,” Kreger turned to Johnson. “This behaviour is damaging to our ability to operate as a unit and a direct violation of orders, I’m going to have to report you to Sergeant Dornan this time. Make sure I don’t have to do it again Private Johnson.”

* * * * *

“A maggot who is a disgrace to an otherwise prime example of an efficient unit, due to the words of your officer I won’t bust you down and out of this man’s army but make sure I never have to see your sorry ass again for this type of behaviour again; do you understand?”

“Yes Sergeant.”

“Out-[censored]-standing, now get to your quarters and out of my sight; I have a real soldier to see.”

Sergeant Dornan left Johnson and returned to a pensive looking Captain Kreger, who had been observing with Lieutenant Gannon; they spoke for a few minutes, whilst out of earshot of Sutler, he hazarded a guess that it was little more than a frank discussion. Dornan gesticulated at Sutler just before he saluted Kreger and started in his direction, Sutler got off the wall and stood up straight, ready to salute the Sergeant when he got close.

“At ease trooper,” Dornan boomed – even though this was not a disciplinary matter; he returned Sutler’s salute before continuing. “Well, it’s my great duty to announce something which has been a while in coming; I almost hate to say it trooper but in these times I appear to have become the very paper-shuffling jack-ass I despised, but it comes with the new rank and world I suppose. I’m very pleased to say that it has been decided – with a substantial amount of support from your officer – that you now hold the rank of Corporal.”

“Thank you very much Sergeant.” Sutler shook his hand vigorously.

“And on a personal note soldier, due to you and your former squad mates testimony, Corporal Spencer has been posthumously awarded the Soldier’s Medal for heroic service outside the field of battle, he saved your lives I believe?”

Sutler squirmed in his armour, pleased as he was with Spencer’s final recognition, the actual reasons for him saving their lives would never be known.

“He did Sergeant, he was a good compatriot and a good friend; I, for one, am glad that he has got the recognition that he deserved. If it wouldn’t trouble you Sergeant, I would like to inform my old squad mates; we haven’t seen each other in some months.”

Dornan nodded. “It’s fine by me Trooper; keep all your friends close, I didn’t have many stationed here… and now they are all dead.”

There was a silence for a time before Sutler saluted Sergeant Dornan and made his way for the elevator to the lower levels, of anyone would know where Autumn was it would be his father. Being of a significant rank – even if he was a military scientist – Lieutenant Colonel Augustus Autumn had displaced the previous holder of the office and quarters which he now called his own, it was a modest room of about the size of an apartment. Autumn Senior was behind his desk, he looked a lot like his son, the jaw and nose in particular, and had his graying hair combed neatly. Like his son, he spoke with a definite southern accent, a family tradition – much like the Sutler’s own – passed down.

“Well hello there Corporal Sutler. Brings you down here?”

Sutler looked puzzled, “You’ve heard about my promotion?”

“I am a senior military official Sutler, things with your name on catch my eye. Now what can I do for you?”

“Oh of course, I’m looking for your son and Sergeant Granite.”

“You haven’t seen them for a while have you? It’s Warrant Officer Granite now, W-1. How about you meet them both in the cafeteria tonight, 19:00pm?

* * * * *

“So Spencer has finally been commended?” Said Autumn in a tone of reverence. “his diligence saved my life.

“Had a damn good voice too,” Granite piped in, he was quieter than usual, though maybe something had changed since they’d last met.

“We miss you Spencer; dear, compatriot Spencer.”

Sutler looked down at his rations and began humming ‘Strong and Peaceful’ – Spencer’s favourite song – to which Granite and Autumn joined in.

It's a great fan-fic, make no doubt. You don't see a lot of Enclave support ones after NV came out and this one is a good example.

I'll get straight to the point,

I find this hard to read and a little dry.

Why?

Too much detail. A problem I rarely see, but a problem none the less, it is just as bad as not enough detail.

For instance:



Three adjectives!? Three!

Reader have imagination too and with too much detail you'll confine the reader's own thoughts and make the tale dull for him/her.

Other than over detail, it seem quite an interesting, and not to mention, patriotic fanfic.

It's been a while since I posted one of these, due to exams; I am going to try and get things moving along now.

8th February, 2242

Sutler returned the recharger pistol back to the Quartermaster before leaving the armoury, he had just passed an hour at the target range to compensate for any reduction of skill – as indeed all US Army personnel were being encouraged to do so – that may occur due to the fact that all patrols and operations had been cancelled last week for a reason and length of time as of yet undetermined. With little else to do Sutler returned to the Gannon’s apartment to find Roxanne rocking a red-eyed Arcade Gannon to sleep.

“My little boy is tired now,” she said quietly. “Been crying, I don’t think he’s very well; took him to see Doctor Schreber, who thankfully has ran out of test-subjects since the patrols were cancelled. Anyway, he said Arcade has a fungal-infection in his mouth called ‘oral candidiasis’, prescribed some of the hokey medicine cooked up from the cultivations but I could see he wasn’t confident in the ability of the medicine.” She sighed deeply.
Sutler tried to look sympathetic before asking, “So where’s Mr Gannon?”

She smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know where ‘Mr Gannon’ is Alan, but I remember him mentioning that the Department of Energy wanted to see him about testing a prototype suit of Power Armour that’s just been sitting in storage since the ENCLAVE. I just hope that one of these days the machines that they cook up don’t end up killing him.”
“Our compatriot scientists do a good job Mrs Gannon, if there had been any deaths I’m sure we’d have heard about it.”

“I wasn’t doubting our compatriots in the white coats Alan, I’m just worried about him sometimes; and you and Kreger and the others. I know that you all don’t get on, but we really look on you all as family.”

Sutler was, again, truly touched by the extent which the Gannon’s had taken him into their family; even after a year of their hospitality it still amazed him. Before, however, he could say something back to show his appreciation there was a familiar burst of orchestral music over the PA system, indicating that a message from the Government was coming.

“Attention citizens, attention citizens. There will be a national address in the Courtyard in 10 minutes. I repeat; all citizens are required to proceed to the Courtyard within ten minutes.”

“This will have something to do with the cancelled patrols,” Sutler said. Leading Roxanne – with Arcade – into the hallway, which had begun to fill with people making their way topside, Sutler slowly shuffled along with the crowd. At the Courtyard, Sutler left Roxanne to join the men in the military column - which still outnumbered civilian column. He quickly found Kreger and the rest of the men, all of whom – like him – were in off-duty uniforms.

“Alan.” Moreno waved him over. “Pretty exciting ‘eh? Anything that’s been in the works for a week must be.”

“Indeed compatriot,” Sutler reached around Kreger to tapp Israel on the shoulder. “Mrs Gannon said that she took Arcade to see Doctor Schreber and that he has a fungal infection.”

“A few more sleep-depraved nights ahead then?” Israel said with a grimace; ’Thank God the armour compensates for the tiredness’ Sutler thought.

Then suddenly there was a burst of fanfare – though one which everyone immediately realised wasn’t ‘Hail to the Chief’ – as President Halt took his usual position on the stage before the three water columns donned with the Flag; behind Halt, the four other politicians took their places but then Sutler was suddenly taken aback when Autumn Senior too followed the politicians onto the stage, he to wearing the uniform of a politician, though being a scientist like the Secretary of Agriculture the brown suit jacket he been replaced by a lab coat.

“Greeting fellow compatriots of the United States of America, I am here before you to-day to announce my resignation as the Acting President, recently it has came to our attention of the survival of another member of the Executive Branch who’s authority supersedes my own.” Sutler listened to Halt but there was something niggling at the back of his mind; Halt didn’t sound the same, he was known as an orator but now appeared even flustered. The news of a surviving member of the Government however made Sutler’s heart soar upon hearing it, ’The Enclave is not dead!’ he thought excitedly.

“Well without much further ado, may I present President John Henry Eden.” Now the familiar Hail to the Chief poured from the speakers but nobody got to the stage, instead a voice superimposed itself over the anthem, it was a cool and calming voice with an accent unknown to Sutler.

“Thank you for the introduction Mr Halt. Greetings my fellow Americans, my name is John Henry Eden, President John Henry Eden and I suppose that you and I need to discuss the future of our America. Since the loss of communications almost a year ago, I and my staff here have been attempting to re-establish communications and finally succeeded in our task only two weeks ago. Together, the surviving members of the Federal Government have been working around the clock on the future of our nation, on the future of our America. Now America, you can relax; you can put behind you all of those worries of the future, the worries of what kind of world our children will grow up in for we have… a plan.”

“We have decided that no future can remain for us here in California, we have decided that a change will be necessary for the revival of our nation in the face of the threat that these mutants pose us. We the American people have gone through hardships before and will do again, God willing, after we re-establish ourselves and rebuild our country; this has pushed our ability, tested our resolve and we have triumphed in the face of adversary against our foe simply through the act of survival. Wait until he see’s our next card America; we will leave this dustbowl behind and instead begin again where we ought to be, where we belong as the final refuge of America. My friends, I and the executive branch have found record of a American installation built outside of the seat of our office and power, Washington DC; this installation will serve as the home and foster to a new generation of American people. My fellow countrymen, we are going home, truly; after all this time away our Capital needs us back and we will not be found wanting. Now, my ability to assist further in our exodus from this region is over and I will return you to the hands of the man you may be more familiar with. Secretary Halt, please retake the stage.”

Sutler listened intently and excitedly to the announcement. “We’re going to Washington!” He whispered to Moreno. “Washington DC, America is coming home at last!”
Halt retook the stage and cleared his throat loudly, gaining the immediate attention of the crowd who had broken the traditional silence which presided during an announcement. “Alright compatriots, please settle-down; as pleased as we all are that major steps have been taken for our survival, the logistics of the matter still needed to be sorted out. We have already drawn up lists and orders of the operation, but due to our need to constantly maintain our vigilance in the face of adversity, we will inform one block per day of their role in the new development whilst the others can continue their functions and the security of this installation can remain uncompromised. Now please let us salute the flag and get to work, the days ahead will be long but we shall prevail, humanity shall prevail!”

From the speakers, Star-Spangled Banner began to play and all the citizens gatherered in the Courtyard stiffened to attention, but there was a static in the air, a charge feeling of optimism and hope; the Enclave was going to Washington.