The Fallout Wasteland

Long Bills wrote:

Rothchild nodded, "We'd be happy to help with schematics of naval strike and fighter craft, depending on specifications... as for the price, that's not a concern as of current, however we were also after a destroyer, but we can discuss the destroyer after the Iwo Jima class is constructed. Are you after similar eras of aircraft?"

"We are, the era around the 1930's and 1940's are about what we can mass produce. As for your ship, we can start producing it whenever our dockyards come back online. Should be around three months give or take. I take it you just need one ship? And what were you looking for in terms of a destroyer?"

The Arthurian Brotherhood wrote:

"We are, the era around the 1930's and 1940's are about what we can mass produce. As for your ship, we can start producing it whenever our dockyards come back online. Should be around three months give or take. I take it you just need one ship? And what were you looking for in terms of a destroyer?"

Rothchild thought for a moment then answered, "What we're after in terms of a destroyer is the californa class crusier... One of the many iterations of nuclear fusion powered sea faring ships. We would be after two... don't be worried about the designs and other such things, we can organise to help with that. We would be after two of these ships, to act as escorts for the Iwo Jima. We would be willing to fund the building of both ships out of our own pocket. As for naval aircraft you have four notable choices: The zero, known for agility, but not resiliant. The F6F Hellcat which was America's answer to the Zero, speed and firepower. Finally you have the British Fulmar and Seafire, both with considerible firepower of 20mm cannons, but the Seafire is a modified land-based fighter, so is a little illfitting."

Click to show...

Green Lands wrote:

Welcome to the City on a Hill (Pt. 1)
Diamond City, Boston, Massachusetts.

By a fortunate combination of skill and perseverance, Fredrick successfully navigated a challenging journey and arrived near the Poseidon Reservoir. As he approached the facility and continued down the road, he noticed a feral ghoul advancing from the entrance. In response, Fredrick swiftly retrieved his 10mm pistol and aimed at the creature. Utilizing his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System, he achieved a precise shot to the ghoul's head, causing it to stumble and collapse. With this immediate threat neutralized, Fredrick resumed his journey southeast, remaining vigilant and equipped with his 10mm pistol. After a brief travel period, he passed by the WRVR Broadcasting Station and crossed a bridge into downtown Boston.

On the opposite side of the bridge, a group of four raiders was advancing toward him, preparing to cross. Upon noticing Fredrick, they immediately opened fire with makeshift weaponry. Fredrick swiftly took cover behind a dilapidated pickup truck and retrieved additional ammunition from his backpack. He equipped a 10mm magazine and efficiently reloaded his 10mm pistol. Utilizing his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System, he aimed at the raiders and discharged six rounds from his firearm. Three of the shots found their mark, resulting in the immediate incapacitation of two raiders. The remaining two raiders sought shelter and returned fire, attempting to engage Fredrick with sporadic shots. He peeked out from the cover of the pickup truck and tried to kill the hiding raiders, blasting his pistol at any exposure. Through luck, he grazed past a gaping hole in the car one of the raiders was hiding behind and pierced their upper back, killing the raider. However, the lone raider took advantage of the exposed Vault Dweller and peaked from cover to land a shot on Fredrick, piercing their lower chest. Fredrick grunted as he fell backward, landing on the ground while clutching his gunshot wound, which sent waves of pain coursing through his body. In a desperate attempt to manage the injury, he pressed down firmly to stem the bleeding. After a moment of determination, Fredrick regained his footing, leaning against the pickup truck's hood for support. Utilizing the hood for stability, he aimed his firearm more accurately and precisely. As the raider peaked out of cover again, Fredrick used his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System to splatter his brain all over the ground. Fredrick collapsed onto the ground, exhaling profoundly and expressing a pained groan as he clutched his gunshot wound. Fredrick carefully retrieved his backpack, placed it on his lap, and methodically unzipped it. After rummaging through the contents, he located a Stimpak. Without delay, Fredrick administered the injection into his upper thigh, demonstrating a quick response to his injury.

He leaned against the truck with a determined exhale as the Stimpak began to take effect. After several miles of walking, fatigue was palpable, and his eyelids felt heavy, as though burdened by weights. After a brief rest, he regained his footing and continued along the path, following the coordinates displayed on his Pip-Boy. His objective was to locate a settlement where he could find respite for the night. As he traveled, he noticed signs directing him toward "Diamond City." He followed the directions, passing through checkpoints where security personnel maintained vigilant oversight. Ultimately, he reached the expansive, welcoming gate of Diamond City and entered with caution, remaining alert and attentive to his surroundings.

He carefully descended the staircase, noting the deteriorating stadium that had been repurposed into the unconventional scrap city it is today. Upon reaching the bottom, he was promptly approached by a young woman who addressed him with urgency.

"Is Mayor McDonough telling the truth? What does he have to hide? Read the Publick for the hard questions! Hey, you there! Vault Dweller! Free paper to newcomers. If the Institute grabs you in the night, at least we warned you. And trust me, I'm serious. The Institute takes people! You should read up if you're sticking around, Vault Dweller."

Fredrick raised an eyebrow, indicating his understanding of her perspective despite the fatigue and sleepiness that blurred his clarity of thought. A sense of curiosity emerged as he began to grasp some coherent ideas, prompting him to contemplate the nature of the Institute and whether his father might have had any association with this organization.

"The... Institute? And who's gone missing?"

"You ain't heard of the Institute, mister? They snatch people up in the night, and no one hears from them again. And the drifters, residents, and stadium seat snobs usually go missing. It seems every year or so, someone's gone, and we all know why. So you better be careful, newcomer. Institute's out there. It's all in the paper! You better read up before they grab you, too."

He thoughtfully picked up the newspaper and took a moment to collect his thoughts before addressing the young lady again. He contemplated seeking assistance in locating his father, who had been reported missing from Vault 117.

"Who would I contact about finding a missing person? And a bed to rent?"

"You're in bad luck. No one tries to find missing people in Diamond City. Missing people means the Institute is involved. And no one's going to want to get the Institute's attention. And you'll find a cheap price at the Dugout Inn behind the marketplace. It's a neat bar and hotel; I've never been myself."

Fredrick ventured to the rear of the marketplace, where he discovered the Dugout Inn and secured accommodations for the day. The presence of a Vault Dweller took the bar patrons aback, and conversations ensued regarding Fredrick and his distinctive blue jumpsuit. Tomorrow, Fredrick intended to seek assistance in Diamond City to locate his missing father or, at the very least, to obtain access to a ham radio to issue a distress signal requesting help.

Welcome to the City on a Hill (Pt. 2)
Diamond City, Boston, Massachusetts.

Fredrick awoke in an apartment at the Dugout Inn, surrounded by the distant sounds of animated conversations and the clinking of glasses. He groaned softly and rubbed his temples, feeling a lingering discomfort from the baseball bat injury. After stretching, Fredrick rose from the bed and approached the dresser, where Fredrick had placed the Publick Occurrences newspaper. He opened it and began to read the articles from the previous day, which primarily focused on societal concerns regarding the Institute and provided additional commentary on local political figures, particularly the mayor. After finishing the paper, Fredrick carefully folded it and tucked it into his Vault-Tec backpack. Leaning against the bedpost, he proceeded with his customary morning routine, which included applying pomade to his hair and styling it into a pompadour while lighting a cigarette. Once he completed his grooming, he secured his backpack and exited the apartment, heading toward the bar. As he opened the door, Fredrick was met with a strong scent of alcohol mixed with a subtle hint of cooked meat and vomit, which nearly overwhelmed his senses. Before leaving the Dugout Inn, he took a moment to observe the bounty board, where he noted a single notice displayed.

If you've got a gun and some drive, listen up! There’s been an uptick in Feral Ghoul activity around the Mass Pike Tunnel. They might not have a lot of supplies, but they like to hang out where the salvage is good. Plus, ridding the world of these monsters will make you smile.

Before Fredrick could leave the Dugout Inn, he heard shouting and glass breaking behind him. He turned around and saw two drunk men fighting in the bar—one wearing a varsity jacket and blue jeans, the other in a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses. Vadim was trying to calm them down verbally, but both men were too intoxicated to pay him any attention. The man in the varsity jacket quickly ended the altercation by smashing a whiskey bottle over the other man's head, knocking him out cold. He raised his hands in victory as the other regulars cheered him on. However, his triumph was short-lived, as Vadim promptly kicked him out of the bar afterward. Fredrick stepped closer to the unconscious man, inspecting the weathered black leather jacket and the aviators resting across his eyes, admiring the drunkard's sense of style. He then exited the Dugout Inn, adjusting his newly acquired leather jacket and flipping his aviators out to wear. A smirk appeared as he admired how the jacket and aviator glasses complemented his bleak blue Vault 117 jumpsuit, thinking to himself, "Just like Elvis." The atmosphere buzzed with activity as he left the Dugout Inn and headed out of Diamond City for Vault 81. Residents around him sat and ate noodles, conversed with each other, purchased items from vendors, or enjoyed an evening stroll. Along the way, a young boy with a face full of curiosity and wonder stopped Fredrick, interrupting him.

"H-Hey, mister! Are you a Vault Dweller? You look so cool! I always thought the Vaults were full of monsters and creepy stuff. Is that true, mister?"

A concerned father approached his child and gently placed his hands on the child's shoulders, sighing heavily with relief upon finding his son after he had wandered off.

"Timothy! Didn't I tell you not to bother the other folks with all your questions and run off without me knowing? You could seriously get lost, man! I'm sorry about that, sir. I hope my boy didn't annoy you; he's just a curious kid who dreams of being a wasteland explorer like I used to be! Back when my knee was still good, that is. I joined this group called the Minutemen a few months back, but then I got shot in the knee by some damn raider during a scouting mission. I had to hang up my boots, so now I mostly just look after my son and pick up a few odd jobs around the city for some Caps."

"The Minutemen?"

"Yeah, the Commonwealth Minutemen. Based on your looks, I get the feeling you're not too familiar with the surface world. Well, let me fill you in. The Minutemen started out over a century ago as a loose group of volunteers in the Commonwealth, formed to protect their settlements and families. They really shot to fame when they defended Diamond City from a super mutant attack. A few years back, they were practically forgotten, but then a Vault Dweller became General, and now they've made a huge comeback, reestablishing themselves as a major force in Boston. They've got a settlement over in Sanctuary Hills, northwest of here—definitely a nice spot to settle down, along with Diamond City."

With a heavy sigh, Timothy tugged insistently at the sleeve of his father's worn jacket. His tiny fingers grasped the fabric as he desperately tried to distract his dad from telling the Vault Dweller his stories. His voice rose in pitch, tinged with urgency, as he whined, pleading for his father to turn his attention back to him.

"Dad! You said we were hitting up Power Noodles today! I’m craving Takahashi's noodles!"

The father smiled warmly as he affectionately patted Timothy and ran his fingers gently through the child's hair. He reached into his backpack, pulled out a zip-up pouch, and unfastened it. After carefully counting, he handed the boy 45 Bottlecaps, enough for a cup of noodles from the Power Noodles vendor. With a reassuring pat on the back, he encouraged Timothy to head over to the noodle stand.

"I'll be right there, buddy! Nice meeting you, Vault Dweller. If I leave my kid alone too long, he'll just bug someone else, haha! Before I head out, what's your real name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I go by Fred."

"Nice meeting you, Fred. I hope you get to soak in the vibe and hospitality of Diamond City; don't sweat all the wild talk about the Institute. Yeah, some of it's true, but people love to blow things out of proportion. It spices up dinner chats, but all it does is fuel the paranoia. Anyway, have a good one, man, and take care."

The father exchanged a firm handshake with Fredrick before leaving to attend to his son at Power Noodles. Fredrick turned on his heel and headed toward the staircase leading to Diamond City's entrance. He noted the town of Sanctuary Hills upon discovering that another Vault Dweller was present in Boston, and he now knew their location. Fredrick considered that this Vault Dweller, or their affiliated militia, might have encountered his father or could offer guidance in his search. However, one pressing concern remained for Fredrick: his lack of Bottlecaps and the need for food and purified water. As he continued his journey west from Diamond City toward Vault 81, where he hoped to speak with the Overseer, Fredrick took a cigarette from his pack, placed it delicately between his lips, and lit it. A plume of smoke surrounded him as he walked along the roads toward Vault 81, accompanied by the enticing melodies of Diamond City Radio emanating from his Pip-Boy.

Below Ground Paradise & Tour!
Vault 81, Boston, Massachusetts.

Fredrick quickly pinpointed the location of Vault 81 by following the coordinates provided by his Pip-Boy. His journey took him south of Oberland Station along the train tracks and west of Chestnut Hillock Reservoir. Upon arriving at the cave marked by a metallic platform at its entrance, he confirmed the coordinates he had received from a merchant several days earlier. Taking precautions, he unholstered his 10mm pistol and entered the cave, which led to a chamber containing the Vault 81 door and the exterior Vault panel. Fredrick attempted to access the entrance to Vault 81 by connecting his Pip-Boy to the panel’s remote link, which opened the coupler ignition casing. After opening the casing to reach the coupler ignition button, he activated the orange button below. However, the vault entrance remained stubbornly closed. At that moment, a voice came through the panel’s speakers—a security officer from Vault 81 was speaking to him.

"Hold it right there. Vault 81 security. I’m not sure how you managed to get your hands on a working Pip-Boy, but you better start talking."

"I got mine in Vault 117."

The voice from the Vault panel speakers scoffed, and Fredrick could sense the ignorance emanating from the other side. They responded to Fredrick with a tone of suspicion, flippantly speaking to him. "Vault 117? I haven't heard of that one yet. And what sort of business are you looking to take care of here in 81?"

"I'm just a Vault Dweller. I thought your Vault could help me."

"Is that so? And you expect me to believe... oh. Overseer!" A feminine voice interrupted the dismissive male on the other side, speaking to him curiously. "Who is it, Edwards?" Afterwards, Edwards responded to the Overseer, submissive to their questioning. "Ma'am, someone claiming to be a 'Vault Dweller.' They said they need our help."

The Overseer returned to the speakers after Edwards answered her question. "Well, if someone wants in, they can earn it like everyone else. Let me speak to them. Sorry about that. Officer Edwards was just doing his job here. I'm sure you can understand our need for caution. For newcomers, we like to operate on exchange. You help us, we help you."

"But I'm a fellow Vault Dweller. Can't you just let me in? I need your help."

Edwards interrupted the Overseer to share the information he had gathered about Fredrick before she had inserted herself into the meeting. "Excuse me, ma'am. Before you arrived, he did say he was from Vault 117, and he's in possession of a working Pip-Boy."

The Overseer seemed surprised, yet a figment of uncertainty remained in her voice. "Huh, is that so? I'm going to allow it. Edwards, open the door and make the announcement. Officer Edwards and I will meet you at the entrance."

The orange-hued emergency lights above the Vault door began to illuminate, casting their glow around the room in a repetitive pattern. The mechanism of Vault 81 made a loud, bold sound, followed by the piercing screech of the Vault door sliding out of place and moving to the side. These loud mechanical noises echoed off the steel walls and the surrounding rock, invading Fredrick's ears like nails against a chalkboard. Fredrick stepped toward the entrance as the Vault door slid open and the bridge extended, welcoming him inside. As he crossed the bridge, a woman with black hair and a Vault-Tec lab coat scolded him. "Another outsider? God, what did they let you in for?"

As he passed the disrespectful Vault Dweller, he encountered three residents: a Vault 81 security officer, the Overseer, and another resident speaking to the Overseer. "Come on, Gwen. My guys have been working doubles for weeks now. They need a break." Gwen swiftly responded to the resident, being collected and calm about the situation. "Everyone's working hard right now, Calvin; you think I don't know that? Just do the best with what you can. That's all I'm asking." Calvin replied to the answer he was given, which did not match the answer he was hoping for. "Fine! I'll see what I can do. But you and I know we can't continue like this."

Gwen turned to face Fredrick, apologizing to him for interrupting the introduction of a new resident of Vault 81. "Sorry about that. As you'll soon see, we have a few maintenance projects underway. Gwen McNamara. Overseer. Welcome to Vault 81. We've never encountered a fellow Vault Dweller. Is this Vault 117 you mentioned still operational?"

"Somewhat, the Vault door is compromised completely."

Gwen expressed a deep sorrow, which is evident in her change in demeanor. The news of a troubled Vault weighed heavily on her heart; having experienced a stable and well-functioning environment since her birth, she found it difficult to comprehend the challenges faced by those in a dysfunctional setting. "I'm sorry to hear that. Here, we pride ourselves on having maintained a successful Vault over these past two centuries. We want to be completely self-sufficient, but there are certain resources we can't provide ourselves."

"You should be wary. The Commonwealth is a dangerous place."

"Exactly why we rely on a select few traders for our needs. That's why I like to use a give-and-take system. If outsiders are willing to help us, we're willing to help them. Now, I have work to do. If you need anything else, I'll be in my office."

As Fredrick pushed onward through the lit corridor, he caught the steely gaze of a security officer stationed nearby. The officer's eyes narrowed in scrutiny as they focused intently on Fredrick's Pip-Boy. Just as Fredrick was about to step past, the officer spoke up, their tone laced with a blend of suspicion and authority. "Is that your Pip-Boy? It better be." Fredrick stepped into the decontamination scanner, its intricate system buzzing with a low, mechanical hum that filled the air. Bright lights flickered along its surface, illuminating him as the device methodically scanned and purified his body. The faint whirring of motors accompanied the process. As he moved through the scanner's threshold, a nearby Vault resident, clad in a Vault-Tec lab coat, leaned closer to a nearby terminal. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he studied the results, scrolling across the screen, the glow reflecting in his glasses. "No signs of radiation. Impressive."

As Fredrick made his way down the lit corridor, the soft echoes of his footsteps were interrupted by a lilting female voice drifting from around the corner. "Hey, Ashes, what are you doing here?" Curiosity piqued, Fredrick rounded the bend and found himself face-to-face with a grey cat, its fur a sleek blend of black and ash, standing before a female security officer from Vault 81. The moment Fredrick stepped closer, the cat let out a plaintive meow before suddenly dashing away from the officer. "Ashes? Where are you going? Ash!" the security officer called out, her voice tinged with concern as she urgently watched the cat's escape attempt. As Ashes neared his feet, Fredrick instinctively dropped to one knee and scooped the cat up from the ground, feeling its soft, warm fur against his arm. Ashes squirmed momentarily before settling against him, realizing it was safe. A relieved smile broke the security officer's stern demeanor, expressing her gratitude. "Thank you for catching Ashes before she could make a run for it. Erin will appreciate it."

Fredrick descended the elevator to the atrium, where he exited and saw a young boy with ginger hair sprinting up the stairs to greet him. The boy was adventurous and curious, as he was the first resident of Vault 81 to engage with the outsider. "Hey, mister, are you really from the Commonwealth?"

"Yes, I am."

Austin balled up his fist and fist pumped, grinning ear-to-ear. "Yes! I knew it! Hey, I can show you around the Vault if you want. Just five Caps."

"Sure, but I don't have any."

Austin sighed and rolled his eyes before stepping to the right, leading the guest around the Vault. "Okay, okay! Boy, you're a real cheapskate. We'll start over here." Austin led Fredrick through the corridors of Vault 81, passing the faded signs for the Overseer and the Commissary mounted on the walls. As they approached the depot, Fredrick caught a glimpse through the large glass windows that separated them from the interior. Inside, a woman with medium-length brown hair was animatedly gesturing with her hands, her voice rising with irritation. Across from her stood a tall, bald man with a scruffy beard and a sun-kissed tan, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. His expression was one of exasperation as he shot back a sharp reply. Fredrick couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and amusement as he watched the scene unfold. "This is the depot. The Combes family runs it. Erin and I are best friends. Her mom and dad fight a lot, so I don't like to go in there when they're around. I shouldn't tell you this, but everybody says Mr. Combes is sleeping with Tina. Mrs. Combes doesn't know, but he's always leaving her to do all the work while he hangs out with Tina. Next stop, the Overseer. I bet you've killed lots of strange things. Oh, and raiders! I bet you fought raiders, too."

As Austin continued his journey down the strip, he veered to the right and stood before the narrow hallway that led to the Overseer's office. Above the entrance, the sign reading "Overseer's Office" hung ominously, its letters slightly dulled and flickering under the dim, flickering light. "The Overseer's office is up there. They're busy up there and don't like to be bothered. She makes the rules, but she's nice. I like her. Anyway, the next stop is the diner. Now we have to go downstairs. That's where the diner is. Everybody eats there. Sometimes, it gets crowded. The Summersets are nice, though. You'll like them."

Fredrick carefully made his way down the staircase. As he reached the bottom, he turned to the right and found himself in the lively diner, where the bright red-and-white checkered floor added a cheerful touch to the atmosphere. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the mouthwatering aroma of pie was almost intoxicating. Behind the counter, Maria, the female chef of the diner, spoke up to Austin as he approached the diner. "Hello, Austin. I see you're showing our guest from the Commonwealth around."

Austin perked up and replied, showing respect for her and her work. "Yes, ma'am. This is the Sunshine diner. Gran says they take all her hard work and turn it into swill. Mr. and Mrs. Summerset run the diner. They're pretty nice. Mrs. Summerset's pies are the best."

"How is the rest of the food?" Fredrick asked, thinking about all the delightful food he could eat here.

Austin replied before walking over to the barber's shop. It was the second to last room that Fredrick had yet to see downstairs. "I like it. Mrs. Summerset always sneaks me seconds, hehe. Next stop, Horatio. I told you they were nice. Do you like your hair? I think your hair has a cool style. I like mine too. I hate combing it, though. Gran makes me comb it." Walking down from the cafeteria, Fredrick noticed a poster featuring Vault Boy dressed in a star-and-stripes top hat, pointing in an Uncle Sam manner. The poster read: "The Overseer NEEDS YOU! Join the Loyalty Corps today." He entered the barber's room, where two mannequins stood outside. The barber, Horatio, was cutting a female resident's hair inside. "Austin, your hair is a mole rat's nest."

Austin pivoted his gaze toward Fredrick and spoke to him. "This is where Horatio fixes up people's hair. Erin's mom comes here all the time. Gran hardly comes at all. She makes me get my hair cut, though. It's not fair. I wanted him to make mine look like a skull, but Gran wouldn't let him. Anyway, the next stop is Gran. Let's see Gran. I live with her. She's not my real grandmother, though. My parents died when I was real little." Austin headed across from the barber's shop toward the hydroponics room, where he stepped inside and waved at the older woman recording data on her clipboard. "Hi, Gran."

"Austin? What are you doing here? Are you bothering that stranger from the Commonwealth?"

Austin sighed and replied to his step-grandmother. "I'm not bothering him. I'm helping him. That's Gran. She takes care of me. You can call her Dr. Penske. She acts all grumpy, but it's not for real." Hearing this, Dr. Penske snarkily remarked back at Austin. "Says you." Austin left the hydroponics and spoke to Fredrick along the way. "She runs our hydroponics lab. It's where we get all our food. Next stop, Miss Katy. We have to go to the other side of the Vault. I'll show you where I go to school. I bet you didn't have to-"

Fredrick abruptly interrupted the tour to speak with Austin. He had much more on his mind than just the Vault 81 tour. "I appreciated the tour. I must get going now." Austin peered up at Fredrick and sighed, looking disappointed. "Really? I didn't even get to show you to Erin! She definitely won't believe me now... Well, thanks for doing my free tour, I guess." Fredrick nodded at Austin, gratefully accepting the tour he provided. Afterward, Fredrick left the hydroponics center and returned to the Overseer's office. He needed answers urgently; for all he knew, his father could be a victim of raiders or mutants. Upon arriving at the Overseer's office, they were interrupted by the Vault 81 security staff sitting at the desk outside her office. "What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Questions." Fredrick responded, slipping his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he looked at the officer through his aviators.

The security officer glared at Fredrick with an irritated expression. He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip, staring blankly at Fredrick. "No funny business. Alright?" He placed his 10mm pistol on the desk, signaling to Fredrick that he meant business.

Fredrick walked up the stairs and entered the Overseer's office. He saw Gwen sitting at her desk, typing away on her terminal. When Gwen noticed Fredrick, she looked up and greeted him. "Ah, it's you again! Welcome to my office. I hope you've found Vault 81 to be welcoming. Is there anything I can help you with?" The Overseer leaned back in her chair and interlocked her fingers. Fredrick approached her desk and sat in one of the empty chairs.

Fredrick removed his aviator glasses and stuffed them into his leather jacket pocket, locking eyes with Gwen as he asked her a serious question. "My father is missing from Vault 117. Have your traders seen any other Vault Dwellers?"

Gwen rubbed her chin, her eyes drifting from Fredrick's gaze as she recalled the past month's events. She then looked back at Fredrick."No, I don't think so. However, we've heard rumors of a Vault Dweller taking charge of a disorganized militia on the surface. Not sure what Vault they hailed from, but I suppose it's worth checking out in your situation."

Fredrick sighed, realizing that this Vault Dweller couldn't be his father. There was no way his father had left a couple of years ago to form a ragtag band of militiamen; he had only escaped the Vault a month ago. "I figured. I'll be leaving now. Can I take some food and water for my journey?"

"Yes, the diner is available to everyone in Vault 81. And I wish you luck in your travels, Vault Dweller. Take care."

Fredrick rose from the chair and exited the Overseer's office. Upon entering the diner, he requested Mrs. Summerset to prepare food and purified water for his upcoming journey beyond the safety of Vault 81. He emerged from the diner with his Vault-Tec backpack, cradling a steaming apple, three bottles of cold purified water, and a crunchy box of potato crisps to stave off hunger. Stepping out into the harsh daylight, Fredrick paused momentarily to let his eyes adjust. The outside world sprawled before him, showcasing the remnants of what was once a thriving civilization. Determined, he set his course northwest toward Sanctuary Hills, where the rumored "Minutemen" were. The cracked pavement crunched beneath his boots as he began his trek, leaving the protective confines of the Vault behind.

Finding Sanctuary
Boston, Massachusetts.

Along the ruined streets of Boston, cluttered with wooden planks, busted tires, rusty pre-war vehicles, and the ever-present smell of death and decay, a lone Vault Dweller searched for his father. His Pip-Boy played tunes from a long-gone era, now faded and broken. His Vault 117 jumpsuit was stained with filth and blood from the surface, once kept clean, washed, and lint-free. However, the era of safety, cleanliness, and normalcy had passed, giving way to something primitive, savage, and grotesque. Fredrick was still trying to adapt to the new apocalyptic society his teachers and peers in Vault 117 had warned him about. Yet, his ideals from the Vault remained strong. He refused to let his beliefs change, fearing it would not be for the better if he did. He feared the wasteland would consume him and turn him into something worse. However, his father had believed in him since the day he was born, and this belief kept his hopes alive as he journeyed through the decayed remnants of a world that once was.

During his journey from Vault 81 to Sanctuary Hills, he encountered a trio of people walking toward him. The group consisted of a thin Caucasian woman with black hair, wearing a pocketed leather coat, brown cargo pants, and dirty wingtip shoes. Her right arm was covered with a pouch and metal wire. Accompanying her was a sun-kissed Caucasian woman with black hair, dressed in a worker's harness over her pants and a pair of boots and leather armor. The final member of the trio was a grey-haired African-American man clad in a black leather jacket, leather pants, and boots, also wearing leather armor. When the sun-kissed woman and the grey-haired man saw Fredrick, they quickly unholstered their 10mm pistols, preparing for a potential conflict. However, the woman in the pocketed leather coat called out to Fredrick, welcoming him to approach. "You look like you could use a little pick-me-up. Am I right?"

Fredrick approached closer, his 10mm pistol holstered at his hip. As he approached, the sun-kissed lady in a worker's harness introduced herself with a warning. "Hands where I can see 'em." And the lady who welcomed him over spoke up. "I'm Stash, your friendly, traveling Chems dealer! Don't mind the crew. They're just overprotective.”

"Can you direct me to Sanctuary Hills?" Fredrick ignored Stash's advertisement and went straight to the point, asking for directions to Sanctuary Hills. Stash felt a bit let down by Fredrick's lack of interest in her deal, but then an idea sparked in her mind. She decided to make another offer to the Vault Dweller.

"Yeah, I know the way to Sanctuary Hills. But free information doesn't pay. I want to see some Caps, Vaultie."

Fredrick sighed, not having a single cap on his body. However, he attempted to utilize his intimidating charisma to persuade Stash to give him the information for free. He unholstered his 10mm pistol and held it pointed downward. "Last chance... Give me the information, and nobody gets hurt."

However, his intimidating threat backfired. Stash glared at Fredrick before turning to her bodyguards—a grey-haired male and a sun-kissed female—and signaled to them. Fredrick quickly realized what was about to happen and retreated, sprinting towards a nearby rusty car as gunshots rang out behind him. He dove behind the dilapidated vehicle just as bullets struck the ground nearby. Leaning his head against the side of the rusted car, Fredrick took a deep breath to calm himself, focusing on the imminent shootout. He activated his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System, leaned out from cover, and aimed his 10mm pistol at the closest target: the grey-haired male rushing toward his position. Fredrick quickly aimed and locked onto his head, blasting a bullet in between his eyes.

Fredrick leaned and ducked back into the cover, letting out a breath filled with stress. In the distance, Stash yelled at Fredrick while she shot at his position. "F#ck you, Vault Dweller! I'll spit and dance on your corpse when we're done with you!" He peeked out to see where the other two were and noticed they were both approaching his position without any available cover. When they spotted him, they started shooting again, but Fredrick narrowly avoided their bullets by ducking back behind cover. Looking around, he saw only a large rock nearby. After a brief moment of contemplation, Fredrick had an idea. He grabbed the rock and activated his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System as he rose from cover. Fredrick targeted Stash and threw the large rock at her head, striking her forehead and causing her to fall back, unconscious. He then quickly drew his 10mm pistol on the remaining female, sending five shots into her chest and abdomen within three seconds, killing her outright. Fredrick stood up and stepped out from the rusty vehicle, approaching Stash. He aimed down at Stash's head and contemplated killing her; he stood there for a long moment with the gun aimed at her forehead as he thought and weighed the pros and cons. Fredrick's train of thought was interrupted when Stash groaned and mumbled to herself, slowly regaining consciousness. When she opened her eyes, she found the barrel of Fredrick's 10mm pistol pointed directly at her face. Desperate, she decided to appeal to his better nature, begging and pleading with him to spare her life.

"W-What are... What are you doing?! I'll tell you where Sanctuary Hills is! I-I've been there before! Just don't kill me, please! Please!" Fredrick eventually looked away and quickly pulled the trigger, killing her. She could hire mercenaries or assassins to come after him; she knew what he looked like, where he was going, and he wouldn't be safe if she were left alive.

After the gunshot echoed out, his breath trembled with remorse. Nothing would've happened if he hadn't intimidated them into asking for directions. But it was his life or theirs, and he wanted to live to see tomorrow. He peered back at Stash, grimacing as he stared at her corpse. He began looting both Stash's, Simon's, and Lexa's corpses for anything they had and stashed it in his Vault-Tec backpack. He walked away from the shootout with two hundred ninety-four Bottlecaps, seventeen rounds of 10mm ammunition, four inhalers of Jet, three 10mm pistols, three bottles of Buffout, two bottles of dirty water, two syringes of Psycho, two Stimpak syringes, two leather armor chest pieces, two leather armor left-arm pieces, two leather armor right-leg pieces, one leather armor right-arm piece, and one bottle of Rad-X. Although the encounter made Fredrick feel guilty and remorseful, it gave him the supplies necessary to make it in the wasteland, kitted out with almost three hundred Bottlecaps and nearly a complete set of leather armor. He continued down the road, his hands and legs covered in blood splatter, continuing his journey northwest aimlessly.

During his journey, he encountered another traveling merchant on the road north of the Mass Pike Interchange. The merchant introduced himself as Fred O'Connell and explained that he had nothing to sell; he was returning to Vault 81 to restock. In return, Fredrick introduced himself and explained his destination, asking O'Connell to "spare another Fred some directions." After exchanging directions, Fredrick felt confident about where he was headed. Over two and a half hours later, Fredrick passed the Red Rocket truck stop in Concord, where pre-war cars stopped for nuclear coolant replenishment and servicing. He continued his travels across the bridge but was interrupted by an alert bark behind him. Fredrick turned to see a German Shepherd standing at his feet without a collar with a piece of mole rat meat in its mouth. "Hey boy, what are you doing here alone?" The German Shepard returned with another bark, dropping the meat to the ground and leaning its head to the side, showing signs of curiosity and docileness. Fredrick kneeled and let the dog sniff his hand thoroughly before he began petting his head. The dog leaned his head into his hand, whimpering to gain more attention from the man. The man started scratching behind the dog's ear, and the dog began to melt into the man's grasp as it felt satisfying to the canine. "I know the perfect name for you, boy." He stood up and continued his journey as he passed the bridge, calling out to the German Shepard behind him. "Let's stick together, Dogmeat!" Fredrick had met and made his first companion in the wasteland, a brown German Shepard, Dogmeat. By the time he arrived at Sanctuary Hills, he was highly fatigued, his legs ached, and the pain was coursing up his spine. The Minutemen were met with a fatigued Vault Dweller greaser with blood splatter on his hands and legs, clad in a black pre-war leather jacket and an advanced Vault-Tec jumpsuit underneath, alongside a brown adult German Shepard with mole rat blood covering it's mouth and nose.

"M-May I pass? I need to speak with the Vault Dweller."

United Commonwealth Republics

THE NORFOLK GAZETTE – SPRING 2288 EDITION – ISSUE #1

Norfolk’s Dockyards Back in Action

After three months of refits, redesigns, improvements, and expansions all four of Norfolk’s dockyards have come back online and have begun construction and repair on the Navy’s newest generation of ships to modernize the fleet. Ten destroyers, seven cruisers, five submarines, one light carrier, and three support ships have been ordered from the shipyards and already workers have been hard at work welding the hulls of the new fleet together. However, this is taking second stage to the arrival of three giants in the shipyard. After much discussion and intense evaluation, the two carriers Yorktown and Intrepid have been approved for full refits and repairs along with the battleship Wisconsin. While the two carriers will be put into standby until the Navy better understands carrier aviation, the Wisconsin is slated to become the new flagship of the Navy. The transition from smaller pre-WWI ships to WWII designs does mean that the Navy will be requiring an increase in income to accommodate for the new maintenance costs. To address this, the government has helped fund expansions at five of the factories in Hardy Field to increase weapon sales and the creation of a massive new section of farmland which will be selling cash crops to the open market. The Navy hopes with these new sources of income they will not see a decrease in ability due to rising costs, but time will tell if they are correct in this assessment.

Construction: 12x farms, 5x Small to Medium Factories
Production: 3x Large Ships, 11x Medium Ships, 15x Small Ships under construction.

Operation Green Claw Launched

This morning the full might of the Royal Navy was on display as the fleet departed Norfolk for new naval drills in the Chesapeake Bay. Unlike the prior Operation Blue Claw, the new exercise, code names Operation Green Claw, will be focused on fleet coordination, combat awareness, and multidirectional strikes. The operation seeks to use the lessons learned from Blue Claw and expand upon them with the addition of heavy surface combatant, sub surface vessels, and aviation assets. The Royal Navy is being split into two teams, Red and Blue, each with the same number of assets being five submarines, five destroyer escorts, three light cruisers, one heavy cruiser, one battleship, and three of the new Kingfisher floatplanes. The exercise will consist of five different battle scenarios and pit the two fleets against one another. This is both a test of skills in combat and a performance evaluation of the current fleet against all manners of combat, be it air, surface, or sub surface. The twin battleships Guardian and Warden will act as the flagships for the fleets and their new anti-air armament will be tested to see if these two ships are capable of both projecting power and protecting themselves from airborne threats. Unlike last time, media representatives have been invited aboard the flagships and will have a front row seat to the action. The Gazette will be sending over five reporters to document the Navy’s performance, which will be posted in our Summer and Fall editions.

*Operation Green Claw underway in the Chesapeake Bay – Long Bills*

Old Dominion and Norfolk State Announce New Joint Research Venture

After rigorously ripping though every book, electronic device, and sensor arrays aboard the Navy’s salvage fleet, Norfolk State has finally created a working prototype radar array. The system is finicky and prone to overheating, but their proof-of-concept device does function and will provide the Navy and the Kingdom with an early warning system for both airborne and seaborne threats. Already the Royal Navy has begun adapting the present design for their ships and workers at Norfolk’s dockyards are adjusting the masts and power systems on the ships under construction to accommodate the new device. Following the success of the research, Norfolk State reached out to see what their prototype radar was faring and found that while their system was unusable, it utilized circuitry that was far more advanced then what Norfolk State had access to. Recognizing the benefit of a joint research agreement, both Old Dominion and Norfolk State have agreed to share research moving forward and have begun making plans to tackle their next big project: Robotics.

*Research on Energy 5 completed, research on Energy 6 started*

Fully operational
Lyon's looked across Boston, looking towards Nordhagen Beach and the mass of broken ships that was held by the raiders. Lyon's held in her hand, the orders to secure the local area surrounding the Airport, primarily locations such as Easy City Downs, a disused racetrack now used for Robot racing, upwards using Gibson Point Pier then onto Lynn Pier parking, then down into Libertalia, Croup manor, securing the penisular across from Nordhagen beach. The plan was to send Liberty Prime and a bulk of forces the long way around, while the newly commisoned BSS Owen Lyons would wait with it's newly commisioned crew to launch VB-01's towards Libertalia and would then receive the damaged one where it could or they would return to the Prydwyn for repairs. The attack on Libertalia would not commence until Liberty Prime from the mainland could provide a nuclear arm to the attack.

Attack begins
The attack began by clearing the East Boston Preparatory School, with the school being crushed under the weight of Liberty Prime, with the remaining forces that came out of the ruins picked off by Brotherhood forces supporting Prime. Easy City Downs was taken not by force, but with the offer of protection and an influx of customers. The location would soon become a mini-gambling spot for brotherhood soldiers, settlers and travellers. With the Revere Satellite Array under Brotherhood control, the force shifted north crossing the Gibson Point Pier. Lynn Pier Parking, was a small sticking point, until the robots were drawn out into kill traps and Prime's laser beam. The force swung back down towards Libertalia, where the go-ahead for the air assault to begin.

The Defenders were overwhelmed, as Strike teams breached the top of the biggest ship, with the large structure, the two pronged attack caught the raiders scrambling as VB's provided fire suport, as the teams made their way down the structure internally as teams of Knights and Paladins split across the make-shift platforms and ladders. The laser beam proved effective at taking out boats that became strongholds, filled with raiders. Libertalia fell in 20 minutes, with the rest of the penisular falling to roving patrols, with small pockets of mirelurks and creatures taken out. Easy City Downs and Croup Manor have been revitalised and set-up as settlements with Brotherhood escorts for Caravans, Nahant Oceanological Society is taken over as a scribe paradise for research on the ocean, as the equipment is repaired and made working.

-------------------------
Cambridge Airport + Lynn Pier Parking to be taken (Tomorrow)
2,000 manpower lost
5x PA lost
2x Settlements established

Green Lands wrote:

Finding Sanctuary
Boston, Massachusetts.

Along the ruined streets of Boston, cluttered with wooden planks, busted tires, rusty pre-war vehicles, and the ever-present smell of death and decay, a lone Vault Dweller searched for his father. His Pip-Boy played tunes from a long-gone era, now faded and broken. His Vault 117 jumpsuit was stained with filth and blood from the surface, once kept clean, washed, and lint-free. However, the era of safety, cleanliness, and normalcy had passed, giving way to something primitive, savage, and grotesque. Fredrick was still trying to adapt to the new apocalyptic society his teachers and peers in Vault 117 had warned him about. Yet, his ideals from the Vault remained strong. He refused to let his beliefs change, fearing it would not be for the better if he did. He feared the wasteland would consume him and turn him into something worse. However, his father had believed in him since the day he was born, and this belief kept his hopes alive as he journeyed through the decayed remnants of a world that once was.

During his journey from Vault 81 to Sanctuary Hills, he encountered a trio of people walking toward him. The group consisted of a thin Caucasian woman with black hair, wearing a pocketed leather coat, brown cargo pants, and dirty wingtip shoes. Her right arm was covered with a pouch and metal wire. Accompanying her was a sun-kissed Caucasian woman with black hair, dressed in a worker's harness over her pants and a pair of boots and leather armor. The final member of the trio was a grey-haired African-American man clad in a black leather jacket, leather pants, and boots, also wearing leather armor. When the sun-kissed woman and the grey-haired man saw Fredrick, they quickly unholstered their 10mm pistols, preparing for a potential conflict. However, the woman in the pocketed leather coat called out to Fredrick, welcoming him to approach. "You look like you could use a little pick-me-up. Am I right?"

Fredrick approached closer, his 10mm pistol holstered at his hip. As he approached, the sun-kissed lady in a worker's harness introduced herself with a warning. "Hands where I can see 'em." And the lady who welcomed him over spoke up. "I'm Stash, your friendly, traveling Chems dealer! Don't mind the crew. They're just overprotective.”

"Can you direct me to Sanctuary Hills?" Fredrick ignored Stash's advertisement and went straight to the point, asking for directions to Sanctuary Hills. Stash felt a bit let down by Fredrick's lack of interest in her deal, but then an idea sparked in her mind. She decided to make another offer to the Vault Dweller.

"Yeah, I know the way to Sanctuary Hills. But free information doesn't pay. I want to see some Caps, Vaultie."

Fredrick sighed, not having a single cap on his body. However, he attempted to utilize his intimidating charisma to persuade Stash to give him the information for free. He unholstered his 10mm pistol and held it pointed downward. "Last chance... Give me the information, and nobody gets hurt."

However, his intimidating threat backfired. Stash glared at Fredrick before turning to her bodyguards—a grey-haired male and a sun-kissed female—and signaled to them. Fredrick quickly realized what was about to happen and retreated, sprinting towards a nearby rusty car as gunshots rang out behind him. He dove behind the dilapidated vehicle just as bullets struck the ground nearby. Leaning his head against the side of the rusted car, Fredrick took a deep breath to calm himself, focusing on the imminent shootout. He activated his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System, leaned out from cover, and aimed his 10mm pistol at the closest target: the grey-haired male rushing toward his position. Fredrick quickly aimed and locked onto his head, blasting a bullet in between his eyes.

Fredrick leaned and ducked back into the cover, letting out a breath filled with stress. In the distance, Stash yelled at Fredrick while she shot at his position. "F#ck you, Vault Dweller! I'll spit and dance on your corpse when we're done with you!" He peeked out to see where the other two were and noticed they were both approaching his position without any available cover. When they spotted him, they started shooting again, but Fredrick narrowly avoided their bullets by ducking back behind cover. Looking around, he saw only a large rock nearby. After a brief moment of contemplation, Fredrick had an idea. He grabbed the rock and activated his Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System as he rose from cover. Fredrick targeted Stash and threw the large rock at her head, striking her forehead and causing her to fall back, unconscious. He then quickly drew his 10mm pistol on the remaining female, sending five shots into her chest and abdomen within three seconds, killing her outright. Fredrick stood up and stepped out from the rusty vehicle, approaching Stash. He aimed down at Stash's head and contemplated killing her; he stood there for a long moment with the gun aimed at her forehead as he thought and weighed the pros and cons. Fredrick's train of thought was interrupted when Stash groaned and mumbled to herself, slowly regaining consciousness. When she opened her eyes, she found the barrel of Fredrick's 10mm pistol pointed directly at her face. Desperate, she decided to appeal to his better nature, begging and pleading with him to spare her life.

"W-What are... What are you doing?! I'll tell you where Sanctuary Hills is! I-I've been there before! Just don't kill me, please! Please!" Fredrick eventually looked away and quickly pulled the trigger, killing her. She could hire mercenaries or assassins to come after him; she knew what he looked like, where he was going, and he wouldn't be safe if she were left alive.

After the gunshot echoed out, his breath trembled with remorse. Nothing would've happened if he hadn't intimidated them into asking for directions. But it was his life or theirs, and he wanted to live to see tomorrow. He peered back at Stash, grimacing as he stared at her corpse. He began looting both Stash's, Simon's, and Lexa's corpses for anything they had and stashed it in his Vault-Tec backpack. He walked away from the shootout with two hundred ninety-four Bottlecaps, seventeen rounds of 10mm ammunition, four inhalers of Jet, three 10mm pistols, three bottles of Buffout, two bottles of dirty water, two syringes of Psycho, two Stimpak syringes, two leather armor chest pieces, two leather armor left-arm pieces, two leather armor right-leg pieces, one leather armor right-arm piece, and one bottle of Rad-X. Although the encounter made Fredrick feel guilty and remorseful, it gave him the supplies necessary to make it in the wasteland, kitted out with almost three hundred Bottlecaps and nearly a complete set of leather armor. He continued down the road, his hands and legs covered in blood splatter, continuing his journey northwest aimlessly.

During his journey, he encountered another traveling merchant on the road north of the Mass Pike Interchange. The merchant introduced himself as Fred O'Connell and explained that he had nothing to sell; he was returning to Vault 81 to restock. In return, Fredrick introduced himself and explained his destination, asking O'Connell to "spare another Fred some directions." After exchanging directions, Fredrick felt confident about where he was headed. Over two and a half hours later, Fredrick passed the Red Rocket truck stop in Concord, where pre-war cars stopped for nuclear coolant replenishment and servicing. He continued his travels across the bridge but was interrupted by an alert bark behind him. Fredrick turned to see a German Shepherd standing at his feet without a collar with a piece of mole rat meat in its mouth. "Hey boy, what are you doing here alone?" The German Shepard returned with another bark, dropping the meat to the ground and leaning its head to the side, showing signs of curiosity and docileness. Fredrick kneeled and let the dog sniff his hand thoroughly before he began petting his head. The dog leaned his head into his hand, whimpering to gain more attention from the man. The man started scratching behind the dog's ear, and the dog began to melt into the man's grasp as it felt satisfying to the canine. "I know the perfect name for you, boy." He stood up and continued his journey as he passed the bridge, calling out to the German Shepard behind him. "Let's stick together, Dogmeat!" Fredrick had met and made his first companion in the wasteland, a brown German Shepard, Dogmeat. By the time he arrived at Sanctuary Hills, he was highly fatigued, his legs ached, and the pain was coursing up his spine. The Minutemen were met with a fatigued Vault Dweller greaser with blood splatter on his hands and legs, clad in a black pre-war leather jacket and an advanced Vault-Tec jumpsuit underneath, alongside a brown adult German Shepard with mole rat blood covering it's mouth and nose.

"M-May I pass? I need to speak with the Vault Dweller."

United Commonwealth Republics

Guards on top of the newly built wall that surrounded sanctuary saw the man approaching their gate and he would see them begin to talk to each other before he could hear one of the guards yell down to someone out of sight, although what exactly he shouted Fredrick could make out. The large metal gate door that could shield Sanctuary’s entrance was raised, as it always was when the settlement was not under attack. Only a chain link fence stretched across the gateway with a large double door fence gate kept people from simply walking in and out of the town freely. The fence gate opened and two minutemen guards walked out and stood just past the threshold. They had on the new minutemen get-up. Blue military uniforms with black boots and blue gaiter's. Over top of all of that they had on canvas webbing to which a number of pouches and other gear was attached, and slung across their backs were standard issue prewar combat rifles. One of the guards called out to Fredrick.

“Go ahead and stop where you are and we’ll come to you pal. Are you carrying any weapons?”

United Commonwealth Republics wrote:

Guards on top of the newly built wall that surrounded sanctuary saw the man approaching their gate and he would see them begin to talk to each other before he could hear one of the guards yell down to someone out of sight, although what exactly he shouted Fredrick could make out. The large metal gate door that could shield Sanctuary’s entrance was raised, as it always was when the settlement was not under attack. Only a chain link fence stretched across the gateway with a large double door fence gate kept people from simply walking in and out of the town freely. The fence gate opened and two minutemen guards walked out and stood just past the threshold. They had on the new minutemen get-up. Blue military uniforms with black boots and blue gaiter's. Over top of all of that they had on canvas webbing to which a number of pouches and other gear was attached, and slung across their backs were standard issue prewar combat rifles. One of the guards called out to Fredrick.

“Go ahead and stop where you are and we’ll come to you pal. Are you carrying any weapons?”

Finding Sanctuary Pt. 2
Sanctuary Hills, Boston, Massachusetts

Fredrick stood at the entrance of Sanctuary Hills, an imposing relic of the pre-war world. His legs trembled beneath him like overcooked noodles, threatening to give way at any moment. As he awaited the gate to open, he tried to pick at the dried blood that stained his blue jumpsuit, his fingernails scraping against the crusted spots. In the meantime, he retrieved a pack of pre-war Grey Tortoise cigarettes from his pocket. He wrestled one out, the tobacco crumbling slightly at the edges before he placed it between his lips. Striking a flame with his Zippo lighter, he took a moment to steady himself. Looking back toward the gate, he saw two Minutemen officers emerge behind the barrier. These stalwart figures were clad in weathered uniforms, and their combat rifles slung across their backs. Fredrick willed himself to move forward, each step feeling like he was trudging through molasses, his legs throbbing and burning from the journey.

He carefully removed the lit cigarette from his mouth and raised his hands above his head, palms facing outward in a silent gesture of peace. With hands held high, he deliberately kept his movements slow and careful, ensuring the Minutemen could see he posed no immediate threat. His gaze was fixed on the officers' rifles as he scrutinized every twitch and shift in their posture, ready to react immediately. A well-worn 10mm pistol was concealed in a holster strapped to his hip. On his back, the Vault-Tec-issued blue-and-yellow backpack bulged with supplies, and its fabric stretched under the weight of scavenged goods and survival essentials.

"I'm armed... I'm just here to talk with your leader."