Stigma sat in his chair. Looking over paper work wasn't his favorite thing to do, but he was the Superior so that was his job. He was getting too old for fighting on the front lines, but he just couldn't forget how active he was when he was younger. This year was the 30th anniversary since the Manhattan Order of Steel was founded. They had been fighting for thirty years against the Enclave and still neither side faltered. The MOS won a major victory during Operation Clashing Steel, but he knew that the Enclave would come back with a hundred times more soldiers. The past few years were spent building up and arming the MOS. All of New York was under MOS control except for a few small areas.
Stigma flipped another page and read the report on the page. Stigma knew that the Enclave were building up, but he had no clue when they would come. This report confirmed that the Enclave was ready to move into New York. His knights wouldn't be able to win. The Enclave would come from both New Jersey and their fortress the Providence Base. Now was finally the time for the MOS to gain allies. They needed to make the first strike. The Steel Trinity needed to meet to discuss potential allies. Stigma reached for his radio.
"I need Rhodes, Kruger and Sipher to head to the Museum now." Stigma
Grand Master Johnny Ramirez of the Reformists sat in his chair, puzzled. Inside a fortified skyscraper in western upper Manhattan on the twentieth floor, he pondered and thought quietly, his aide, Chevalier Evan Archer, not far away. Archer had been his bodyguard for who knows how long; before 2260? Anyhow, Ramirez was troubled on what to do. The Crusade was in shambles; the D.C. branch had collapsed, and the New York section wasn't doing much better either. The same could be said for the Enclave; the MoS had all but removed them from Manhattan. However, they still outnumbered the Reformists ten to one, outgunning them easily. Ramirez needed allies; he needed a united front, something that could stand up to both the likes of the Enclave and Crusade. "Archer, arrange a meeting with the GPA command in southern Manhattan and the MoS. I'd like to speak with them, if possible." Ramirez said quietly, his voice stern and bold. Archer nodded silently, striding out of the room towards the staircase, his two personal guards following him without hesitation.
Liegelord Uriah Anderson paced back and forth in his office at newly-fortified Hoplum. What to do, what to do. He'd been getting reports for some time now about the Crusade's collapse. I suppose it was inevitable, he thought. Now it was time to pick the Crusade's carcass. After their fall, there was bound to be some swag to be had for the AWA. Anderson consulted his notes. Now that the Crusade has fallen, who's left as the strongest? Anderson idly thought that the AWA was, then discarded that notion immediately. They're definitely outranked here, he thought. The Enclave, obviously, but Anderson would attack Fort Stalwart before he allied himself with the Enclave. That left these fellows, the Reformists, and the MOS. Anderson considered briefly which group to speak to, then decided he'd try and ally with both. He sent orders for negotiators to be sent to both factions.
Wesley had returned from his inspection of the Albany MOS base. The vertibird, Dragoon, landed on the platform at the Cloisters base. The second he stepped off the plane his wife Knight Captain Darlene ran to him holding a clipboard.
"Stigma has a mission for you. I know that you just came back, but it sounds urgent." Darlene
"What you didn't read it? Oh whatever let me see it." Wesley
Wesley took the clipboard from her and read it. Wesley was shocked by the orders he was given, but he was a little happy.
"What does it say?" Darlene
"I'm to meet with the Reformists' leader to negotiate an alliance. I'm honored to have been chosen for this momentous occasion..." Wesley
"Instead of accepting it as an award shouldn't you get going?" Darlene
Wesley nodded his head and kissed Darlene for a second and boarded Dragoon again. Wesley had to head to the intended meeting point.
A white Vertibird, with the slogan, "Live Long, Die Well" painted on the side landed outside the Museum. A group of heavily armored soldiers stepped out, the Inititiates scattering before them in a twisted parody of every battle they had fought in. At the head of this imposing group was a giant of a man in white and silver armor, moving with the deliberate momentum and crushing force of one totally at ease with Power Armor. The Death Guard had arrived.
High Paladin Daniel Kruger walked among the troops, throwing around a few greetings and jokes as he went. Fifty-Five and still built like a brick-shit house, as his son had said. He wasn't sure whether to be worried or impressed that his son had used the same simile to describe another knight he had beaten to a pulp in the Birdcage's boxing ring. He nodded to the Knight Guards at Stigma's office door, before stopping for the formalities of taking off his helmet to be sure it was him, and then leaving his weapons in a box outside the door. All administrative doggerel of course, except the weapon box. That was taken deadly serious after an assassination attempt a few weeks back. Unfortunately for the assassin, he wound up running into a Death Guard debriefing. The Scribes had literally had to scrape his blackened carcass off the ceiling.
"Evening, Joseph." Kruger said as he stepped in the door. Stigma, deep in thought didn't respond until Kruger threw a paperweight at him. It bounced harmlessly off his armor, but caught him by surprise, and he jumped nonetheless. Kruger smirked as Stigma looked at him with a mix of frustration and amusement. Ever since Kruger had realised that he was growing old, the High Paladin had become much more light-hearted. Still fought like a demon, though, so it didn't matter much. As long as he didn't try that "joke" with the flashbang under the toilet again.
Major John Hale padded silently along the corridors of Providence Base. Sure, York had hijacked the Northeast Enclave after Eden's "death", but he had made contact as soon as he found out the Enclave were still alive and kicking. Kicking like a damned FEV Mule. If it weren't for that little snippet of retribution, Hale would be walking down this corridor, stabbing and shooting people instead of nodding and greeting them. These folks were friendly for people who were gearing for war. Although, all things considered, they were a shoe-in for the win. The Crusade was running scared after the Last Legion, and then the Horde, or whatever that mob called itself, had destroyed the DC branch. And they outnumbered the MOS to such an extent that it wouldn't make much difference whether or not they went for attrition or lightning strikes.
All Hale had to do was get briefed on the Wildcard forces. The AWA, AYF, GPA and some lot called the Reformists. Some Crusade splinter faction, without Colonel Roarke to lead them. Hale had almost laughed at that. They'd be no more problem than an anthill. He flexed his fingers instinctively as two guards in Hellfire armor stepped forward to pat him down before going into Commander York's private office. He stepped in and there, behind an immense mahogany desk, sat Gregory York, his large pistol pointed squarely at Hale's chest.
"Commander, you requested the best soldier the Senate could provide. Unfortunately, he was busy, so you got me." Hale joked. York smiled, for the first time since the Enclave Freighter had been recaptured. He had requested Hale by name.
Archer stepped back inside, not making a sound, and headed for Ramirez, who was still sitting in his seat, his power armor servos making quiet creaks as he shifted slightly. "It's done, m'lord. The Brotherhood is sending a represenative as we speak via VTOL." Archer said, moving off to the side. Even when he was wearing a full power armored suit, Ramirez knew that Archer's face was a twisted smile. Archer had, in the past, had some... differences with the Brotherhood.
Colonel Chapel---, erm, Consul Chapel stepped out of Thermopylae's officer elevator and into Level Seven's dark confines. Moving through the hallway and into a briefing room, he greeted the other Consul, an enigmatic ambitious officer named Nemoy, and the bulk of his chain of command. "How are we today, gentlemen?" Chapel asked, giving his holster to his aide. "Completely chaotic, Consul." Lieutenant General Kirk said, rubbing the back of his head and opening a briefcase, removing documents. Chapel raised an eyebrow. "Report." Chapel said. Major General Wembley spoke up this time. "Well sir, as you know, we've withdrawn from almost 80% of our controlled settlements at your order to a large perimeter around Thermopylae. However, we have reason to believe that multiple factions are moving to seize former turf of ours, maybe even try to seize current turf. CCI Moles inside the multiple factions in the city have reported negotiations are in the works between several notable enemies of ours. However, they cannot risk sending any more information for risk of being discovered." Wembley said, stretching his jaw. Chapel nodded, stroking his moustache. "Kirk, I want you out of this base and back into Bregrod by tomorrow morning. Understood?" Chapel said. Kirk,a bit confused nodded. "Um, sir, didn't we just pull out of there?" Kirk asked. Chapel stared at him, and Kirk dropped the question. "Wembley," Chapel asked, "what can you tell me on the Brotherhood?"
After Rhodes and Sipher entered the room the meeting began. Stigma looked at the faces of each of his most trusted knights. Kruger always had that happy look. Stigma always thought it was creepy, but he got used to it over time. Sipher looked well rested. Stigma had given her time off, but he didn't think she would actually take it. He had known her for thirty years and she rarely slept unless they were sleeping together. Stigma formed a smirk after thinking about that. Rhodes had the same serious expression since Stigma first met him. He always..
"Sir can you stop daydreaming and tell us what this meeting is about." Rhodes
"Hey give him a break. I'm sure he's exhausted." Sipher
"Well I have other duties to do. I can't waste my time while Stigma daydreams. Our meetings always last forever because no one says anything." Rhodes
"Okay okay, I'll stop daydreaming. What is with the insubordination today? Now the reason I called you all here is because of our old friends the Enclave. A recon report I received confirmed that they were on the move. We don't know when they are attacking, but we know they will come here. I have ordered Praetor Wesley to meet with the leader of the Reformists to negotiate an alliance." Stigma
Kruger, Sipher and Rhodes didn't say anything right away. Stigma knew that it was a hard pill to swallow due to the conflicts they had with the Reformists. Several knights had died by their hands, but it didn't matter now. The MOS needed allies to fight against the Enclave.
"I want to make sure you are all on board with this. We need more soldiers to fight against the Enclave with." Stigma
"I'm okay with it." Sipher
"Hmm, If it means defeating the Enclave then I am on board. Kruger what about you?" Rhodes
Dr. Bines was walking at a quick pace to York's office. He had finally finished development on the mass production version of the Enclave Purifier. He needed to tell York right away. Being Head Scientist of the Northeast Enclave came with many high expectations. York worked Bines to the ground, but he always came through for the Supreme Commander. Dr. Bines had always respected York due to what the man accomplished. York had raised up an army and began conquering New England soon after emerging into the Wasteland. He was wildly successful in his campaign. In a few years his branch became the most powerful and York knew that. York used every advantage he could to make himself stronger. He always used his successes as a weapon against the Enclave Committee and President Eden. He was able to get what he wanted and pretty much do what he wanted. Things changed when the Enclave forces under President Eden and Colonel Autumn were wiped out and both men killed. The entire Enclave was in a state of confusion over who should take over. York tried to use the confusion to his advantage by taking over, but he failed. York realized that he couldn't become President so he went rogue with his branch. Unsurprisingly everyone in his branch joined him without question.
Dr. Bines reached the door to the office and the guards allowed him entry. York was already talking to another man.
"Oh good the good doctor is here. Major John Hale this is Dr. Harrison Bines, the man responsible for all of our amazing tech here up north. Major Hale here is a member of the Warrior Weapons project." York
"Oh my god, it is an honor to meet a Warrior Weapon. Can I do a quick examination on you to see what makes you tick?" Dr. Bines
"As always, Rhodes, I'm in." Kruger said in that deep, low voice of his. That, more than anything else, was what made him scary. That voice always had an undertone of I'll kill you to it. Most of the time, Kruger didn't mean it to come off that way, but it just happened. Now, with the Steel Trinity seated, he was ready to toss around a few ideas with his fellow commanders.
Firstly, there was the possibility of a betrayal by the Reformists to be addressed. After all, they had gone turncoat once before, what was to stop them doing it again? Secondly, there were wildcard forces to be considered. There had always been an uneasy truce between the MOS and the GPA, but if total war erupted, the GPA might not be best pleased. The AWA would probably jump in against the Enclave and Crusade Remnant forces in the city, but they could be a hindrance if they launched an attack before everything was prepared. Especially if the Enclave made a counter-attack on a large scale, which could be catastrophic for the MOS. The AYF were ex-Crusaders. About as much chance of help from them as a candle surviving a blizzard.
"A what?" Hale said, raising his eyebrow. (He has memory grafts, he doesn't know he's a Warrior Weapon). "Look, I don't know what you're on about here, but it sounds like you're making me out to be some kind of die-hard zealot. Now, I love my country as much as the next guy, but I'm no Living Weapon, or whatever you said."
York shot Bines a look that would have turned a Deathclaw to stone. Bines looked at Hale apologetically, trying to think of something to change the subject. He knew how volatile Memory Grafts were, and he didn't want to damage Hale's. The last thing anyone wanted was another desertion by a First Generation Warrior Weapon. Two was more than enough!
Paladin Issachar Tucker led the unarmed combat drill on Hoplum's grounds. As he counted cadence, AWA soldiers of varying ranks struck out in a pre-determined combination of strikes and punches. Issachar watched. He shook his head as he saw the Sergeants-at-Arms on the edge on the group try to keep pace with a group of Knights who were practicing a more advanced technique. "What do you think you're doing?" he grunted as he approached the Sergeants-at-Arms. Before they could respond, he continued, "Keep time with my count, not with what the Knights are doing. And my count is this." Paladin Tucker suddenly moved his hands in a lightening-fast blur of punches, kicks, and blocks. "Again," he said as he returned to his former position.
The Paladin looked over and saw that Major Bronson was signaling at him. Issachar left one of the Knights in command and moved to where the Major was. When he approached the Major, Paladin Tucker stopped and saluted. "Paladin Issachar Tucker, sir," he said.
The Major looked him over before replying. "Paladin Tucker, Liegelord Anderson has chosen you to lead a diplomatic party to meet with the Manhattan Order of Steel at their base. Gear up, choose a squad of about four men, and get ready to depart."
"Sir yes sir," Issachar said. Once the major motioned for him to stand at ease, Issachar moved. He strapped on the T-4x Power Armor he had left outside before he started the drill, then grabbed his R91 Assault Rifle, 10mm Pistol, and Ripper. He motioned to one of the drilling Knights and one of the drilling Sentinels, who both put on their armors and weaponry. Paladin Tucker then found Paladin Hale and Knight-Captain Swindon to join him. After Issachar briefed them, they set out. On the way out of the base, Issachar noticed Paragon Emily Stephens leave with a squad of similar size. Issachar thought nothing of it as he and his group climbed into two waiting Interceptors and took off across the Hudson River.
The vertibird, Dragoon, began its descent on to the ground. This was the meeting point for Wesley to begin negotiations with the Reformists. Wesley did his usual mental exercises and prepped himself. He had three knights with him in case anything were to go wrong, but hopefully that wouldn't be the case. The vertibird landed softly and the propellers slowed to a halt. Wesley and his knights exited the VTOL and looked around to see if the other party was here yet.
"Now that we are all in agreement we have to go over the battle plans. We won't take into account any other force besides our main force." Stigma
"We currently have five vertibirds available for action. The Death Guard has Whirly. Steel-1 is in a mission in Upstate New York. Dragoon is with Praetor Wesley. The other two vertibirds, Hawk and Eagle, are on standby inside the Museum's hangar. We have three Assault Vertibirds with another two in production also stationed in the Museum's hangar. The AER11 Laser Rifles have already been distributed to all Paladins and they are beginning to be distributed to the Knights. The M47 Railgun has been outfitted on all vertibirds as well." Sipher
"The majority of our forces are scattered about New York City. We have about 900 knights in the city. The MOS Expeditionary Force is still in Upstate New York. There numbers reach 200. They can be recalled within a week. The artillery platforms are also operational in Battery Park." Rhodes
"Kruger how many of your Death Guard can be recalled to Manhattan within a week?" Stigma
Dr. Bines sat down with his head down. He has a golden opportunity to replicate the Warrior Weapons, but in doing so he could lose his test subject.
"Now Major Hale this report should update you on our current situation. Most of the wild cards are of no threat. The only faction that is and will pose a problem is the Manhattan Order of Steel. I want you to study them thoroughly. I had underestimated them in the past, but I will not make the same mistake. I have split our forces into two main battle groups. We have 6000 soldiers at the gates of the Providence Base ready to invade New York. Another 2000 are at New Jersey also poised to strike. 2500 soldiers are guarding the south of New Jersey in case any other factions try to head north. I have yet to begin conscripting the civilians of the Urban Districts, but if I were to do so we would have another 10000 soldiers ready within a short period of time. I don't plan on using this many soldiers to conquer such a small faction, but I am taking my precautions. The main strike team consists of 750 soldiers. I want you to be a part of it. The invasion time has not been finalized yet, but when it is I will inform you." York
York handed Hale the files and folded his hands. York formed a huge smirk.
"In other words Major Hale you happen to be on the winning side." York
Before they even came in sight of the MOS base, Paladin Tucker had affixed massive flags of truce to both Interceptors. No use getting shot on your way there. Issachar held the tiny boat's bridge, directing the Specialist helmsman where to go. One of his soldiers sat at the minigun in front of the Interceptor, gunning down the occasional Mirelurk that bobbed its unfortunate head above the water. In the distance, Issachar could see a single VTOL on the deck of a massive and heavily fortified base. They probably saw the flag of peace, but if they didn't...Issachar got to the front of his Interceptor and began waving his hand in a large sign of peace. They didn't fire. Presumably, his flag, signs, and T-4x armor had shown him to be a non-Enclave soldier. The AWA soldiers docked outside of the fortress and trekked up to its gate. MOS snipers and turrets followed their every move.
Paragon Emily Stephens fired her laser rifle again, and the last Raider incinerate into a pile of ash. That'll teach them, she thought. Now, to meet with these "Reformists". Personally, Emily didn't trust anyone who had anything to do with the Crusade, but the Liegelord ordered. She laughed to herself. The Liegelord ordered. Usually, his orders were thought of as an afterthought, as Emily preferred to use AWA values as her guiding law. Nowadays, though, she'd get shot if she did that, or demoted. Look at Sechin. Oh well, she thought. She signaled her soldiers forward, and they moved through the streets towards the skyscraper base of the Reformists.
General Ibram Chase looked out of the window of his Vertibird. Providence Base was spread bellow him and beside the Vertibird were the transport birds carrying the majority of Chase's regimental bodyguard. Slung bellow one of the birds was the pride and joy of Chase's regiment, an Ike Battle Tank. The comm flared into life as the pilot began to speak. "Sir, we're heading in to land. I'm sure Commander York will want to see you."
The door to Stigma's office opened slightly.
"Sir it seems that representatives from the AWA are here requesting a meeting with you." MOS Knight
Rhodes looked at Stigma and Stigma nodded.
"Fine tell them I'll be there shortly." Stigma
Stigma dismissed the others and walked out with Star Paladin Rhodes. The two headed to meet with the AWA.
Stigma walked outside and saw seven members of the Last Battalion standing guard around the soldiers of the AWA. Stigma walked forward and stretched out his arm.
"I am Superior Joseph Stigma, leader of the Manhattan Order of Steel. Who are you and why are you here?" Stigma
"Richard Cross! Where are you?!" Enclave Officer shouted.
Cross was sitting in the mess hall eating mashed potatoes. When he heard his name called he immediately stood up and ran over to his superior. Cross had joined the Enclave several years ago. He wanted to support his family and the Enclave offered to take care of them if he joined. He went through rigorous training and went on constant missions. Over time he was promoted and served as a Captain of the new Enclave Strike Force.
"Sir you called." Cross
"The Supreme Commander wants to see you. Head there now." Enclave Officer
Cross nodded and made his way to York's office. He had met the Supreme Commander once before after his victory against rebels in New Jersey. Why York would want to see him was a mystery.
Cross reached the office and was let in. When he entered he saw York and Dr. Bines, but he also saw someone he didn't recognize.
"I am glad you arrived so quickly. Major Hale, this is Captain Richard Cross. He will show you to your quarters and explain what the Strike Teams objectives are. Dismissed!" York
Back At Thermopylae
Chapel raised an eyebrow as a young Airborne Guard enters the briefing room. The guard stands at attention and he solutes, “Sir a man from Head Office is here to see you”.
Chapel raised his voice immediately. “What the Fuck are you talking about? Head Office? Jerusalem was sacked.”, Colonel Chapel slightly confused turned to face the guard and the open doorway. “Explain your self.”
A man slowly stepped out form behind the guard, “Thank you fin American I can take it from here”. Taking off his hat, the man wear a dirty business suit and glasses. Very strange and out of place for any to wear in the wastelands.
“What is the meaning of this, who the hell are you? How did you gain access to MY base?”, Chapel shouted. The other Consul jumped up from their seats ready to defend their leader.
“Please, please, gentlemen alloy me to properly introduce my self. My name is Mr. Smith, Mr. John Smith, I would like to talk to you and members of your fine all American patriots about something that both you and my associates share common interests in.” Mr. Smith takes a few steps toward the conference table. “May I sit with you fin gentlemen today?”, a staffmember closest to Mr. Smith seemed confused and moved to pull out a chair for the man. “Why thank you, well you see You and my associates both want what is best for America. You both seek to free the wasteland of its corruption and evils, to make this land once more great. While we try to unify and defend the people of the wasteland from out side evils like the mutant and the insane, other seek to fight themselves and other pure and free loving Americans. These people are so corrupt and blinded by the killings of fellow Americans they can’t see that they are letting the true enemies grow and prosper.” as the man speaks more and more of Chapels Staff begin to take their seats once more. They see to be mesmerized by Mr. Smith’s rantings. All but Chapel who remained standing. As Mr. Smith spoke Chapel noticed that that Mr. Smith was also wearing a odd looking speaker device on suit and a pit boy of some sorts.
"What is it? Explain yourself before I have you executed for wasting my time", Chapel demanded. “I simple wish to talk and discuss what is really important to us my fine American. And that is the Unity of all us good Americans to rebuild this once great nation of ours. Be we certainly cant do that when traitors and madmen are doing every thing in there corrupted bodies to destroy every thing we have built now can we.”
Paladin Owen Nightengale scanned out over the streets of Manhatten with his binoculars. Refuge in a high building had it's advantages. He could see air movements for miles around. It was rather tough to see the streets, but there was particularly a lot of air movement toward the Enclave controlled areas of the city. "Sigma will want to know what's going on," he said flatly to one of the Knights in the room. The man began compiling notes of the past week's observations to transmit to The Bird Cage. Nightengale knew something big was up. The details, he didn't, but the fact was, there had been a lot of activity in all sectors. He picked up his AER11 as he sat down and opened a package of umYum Devilled Eggs. He ate one as he observed his men doing their work around the post. He checked his weapon, barely two weeks ago he'd finally been issued the thing. It felt more powerful in place of his old R91, but it was nice. He very much looked forward to testing it in combat, though not in all-out war, where he'd be a dead man if it failed. He sat back in his chair and raised his binoculars again. He was intent on keeping an eye on the Enclave air movements. Someone had to.
"Sir!" Issachar shouted as he clapped his heels together and saluted. All the AWA soldiers behind him did the same. "Paladin Issachar Tucker of the American Wasteland Army based at Hoplum here to speak with you, sir! On behalf of my base's commander, the honorable Liegelord Uriah Anderson, I am here to present you with the option of an alliance with the American Wasteland Army, sir! The honorable Liegelord Anderson believes that it would be prudent if the Manhattan Order of Steel and the American Wasteland Army allied together in order to fight the vile Republic of the Enclave and to remove the last of the Crusade from New York, sir!" Issachar remained at attention while Stigma looked at him and the soldiers behind him.
Technical Sergeant Grant Sutherland's boots hit the dirt as he and his contingent of Army Rangers stepped off of their VTOL and onto the ground at Providence Base. A group of Enclave soldiers came to meet him, led by a Lieutenant. "Sir!" Grant and the Rangers saluted. "Technical Sergeant Grant Sutherland of the Enclave Armed Forces and leader of Ranger Squad Foxtrot reporting for duty!"
The Lieutenant looked Grant and the Rangers over and returned the salute. "At ease, Sergeant," he said. Grant and the Rangers immediately dropped their salute. The Lieutenant continued. "Are you the only reinforcements from the Senate?" he asked.
Grant replied, "Sir no sir! We are the only Ranger squad to be sent to Providence Base, sir, but more Enclave troops are on the way, sir!"
The recently promoted Captain Carl Fielding sat opposite his commanding officer, Colonel Alucard Vasquez, in the Vertibird that was leading the rough "V" formation the rest of the regiment's transport aircraft were flying in. Chase's personal guard had gone ahead, as had the Ranger squad, leaving this hundred-strong group of soldiers trailing behind. Fielding himself smiled as he looked down over the base. It had been almost a decade since he had last seen Providence, and it was still as incredible as ever. To make the situation even better, his officer's commission had given him free access to the armoury, and in turn, a suit of Hellfire Power Armor. Despite looking a lot bulkier, the suit was actually less restrictive of movement than Advanced MKII, owing to slightly superior servos which suited Fielding's needs nicely.
"ETA five minutes, Colonel," Came the pilot's voice from the cockpit. Vasquez and Fielding shared a look for a moment, before the former nodded, and Fielding fired up his comm and began to address the entire regiment over their individual Birds' radios.
"Alright boys. As it stands we're unsure of what exactly the situation in New England is, but I expect we'll be briefed on-site. Providence is a wonderful base and she has an excellent commander, and if you jeopardise her or piss him off, then it's your heads on the platter! I will not have any one of you soiling the reputation of our esteemed regiment either. Best behaviour and best performance from all of you, and try to keep the racket down once we hit the barracks. Is that fucking crystal clear, soldiers?!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Now that's what I like to hear, fellas. We're gonna be touching down about four and a half minutes now, so pack your bags! Do your jobs right and we'll all be home by Thanksgiving! And I know how you all love turkey! HOOAH!"
Vasquez smirked and shook his head slowly. It seemed Fielding was good for something, if not for capturing small, mostly defenseless towns. He observed as the Captain began to load and check his weaponry, so he himself checked to see if his PPK12 was still neatly secured at his hip and then straightened out a few creases on the front of his greatcoat. First impressions and all that.
Ibram stepped of the ramp of his Vertibird surounded by Seargant Smith's squad. A group of enclave GI's led by a man in a Major's uniform approached. The man snaped to atention. "At ease, man."
The Major visably relaxed. "Thank you sir. May I ask who you are and what you brought with you?"
Ibram was surprised that the Major hadn't seen him before ."My name is general Ibram Chase, Commander of the Enclave reinforcements sent by the Senate, and acting as an advisor to Commander York. I assume you will be taking me to him?"
The man nodded. "Yes sir, when your men have disenbarked I'll take you to see him." The man looked around. "Where are your men?"
Ibram pointed upwards. "Up there in Vertibirds, Major."
Grant looked over at the General Ibram Chase. Now there was a hero if Grant had ever seen one. Grant thought briefly about saluting, then went against it. The General wasn't close enough. Grant rejoined his rangers as they began to move their equipment off of the Vertibird. He grabbed his footlocker and wheeled it off of the Vertibird. He opened the locker and looked inside to make sure nothing was damaged. Gauss Rifle, Plasma Rifle, Gamma Rifle, Tesla Armor, Hellfire Armor, APAGs, Pulse Grenades, Trench Knife, Ripper. Everything's here, Grant thought. When he went in, he went in hard. That was all his equipment, although the armors and some of the weapons were partially deconstructed to make storage easier. Grant turned his attention to the 'bird. It was the Rangers' own, a beauty if Grant would say so himself. Fast, agile, and heavily armed. Grant had done quite a lot of drops out of the VTOL, and he had started to treat it as a friend, albeit a large flying one.
Stigma returned the salute the soldiers of the AWA gave him.
"So you wish to annihilate both the Northeast Enclave and the Crusade. Well it seems like we have similar goals. Follow me inside to the meeting room. Your men can wait in the mess hall. They have full access to the food and water there." Stigma
One Knight Guard led the way to the mess hall. Stigma walked back inside and headed to the meeting room. Stigma wondered what agreement they would come to.
York walked outside escorted by several Elite Soldiers. He spotted General Chase.
"General Ibram Chase welcome to Providence. I am pleased to know that you arrived safely. Major John Hale arrived shortly before you. I already gave him his orders. Now I know that you are here as an adviser, but I would like to warn you beforehand that I don't take criticism well." York
York shook hands with Chase and led him inside.
Chase listend carefully to what York was saying about him not liking criticism. "I hope you also know, Commander, that you walk a fine line between breaking orders and all out rebellion. I also hope you know that the reinforcements with me are under my command, not yours."
Ibram walked beside York on the way into the base. "York I have to ask. Why did you do what you did, New York was under Enclave control. You outnumbered the MOS, yet you withdrew. Why?"
Issachar saluted again and followed Stigma inside. As they passed through security, Issachar visibly gulped. He'd been to many bases, Stalwart included, but he'd never seen a base as well-defended. Issachar allowed the soldiers to take his weaponry and store it somewhere, as well as his helmet. Doubtlessly the AWA would have done the same. As they walked, Issachar wondered about the MOS and the BoS in general. He'd heard about them, of course, but he'd never had any real contact with the Brotherhood before. Now he was about to meet with their higher-ups. Issachar gulped again at the confrontation or meeting before him.
Issachar and Stigma entered the meeting room As he entered the meeting room, Issachar examined the other warriors there. He was first drawn to the massive man in the center, built like a tank or a bear. This was clearly not someone Issachar wanted to piss off. There was also a determined looking woman who, strangely, reminded Issachar of Paragon Stephens, or at least what Issachar had seen of her. Finally, there was the taciturn man at the end of the group. He too looked like someone that Issachar wouldn't want to annoy, but more in an aloof and cold way.
As most of the VTOLs lands and drop off mainline personal and their equipment 5 Auto Air transport ships circle overhead. The main landing strips became congested with ranks of marines and Ranges sifting through their gear and going over order. This parade of frontline infantry was a site to see as the men in there newly made equipment filed into their designated hangers and bunkers. but this event was dwarfed by the latter landing of the air ships I the southern fields. Unlike the usable operations involving unloading Air Supply Ships there vessels wear ordered in to the barren field so that more then one ari ship could land and unload their cargo. The first ship to land carried 150 TCS Robots carrying their own equipment and gear. Over the next few hours the Air Ships landed and the local maintained crew began to unload their cargo. The NE personnel was ecstatic to find that they received newly manufactured equipment, gear, spear parts of all makes and models including 4 Ike Battle tanks, 6 Behemoth robots, 60 new Sentry bots and a grand total of 300 TCS robots armed to the teeth and ready for action.
Stigma sat down at his seat and offered Issachar a seat. Stigma looked at his fellow knights and looked back at the AWA officer.
"Now for an alliance to occur between the MOS and the American Wasteland Army I need to know what you can offer that would interest me. The same goes for me to you. My faction's strength is currently 1100 knights. We have several vertibirds of different types at our disposal as well as highly advanced weaponry. We control all of New York State as well." Stigma
York listened to what Chase had said. He had heard rumors about General Chase and now he was sure they were real.
"Let me just say that I had more pressing matters to deal with such as the Enclave's failure in the Capital Wasteland. I had to strengthen my southern border to protect my empire, sorry our empire against foreign invaders. Don't worry I will soon deal with the MOS. I am taking my time though. As for your reinforcements they may be under your control, but they have to take part in the coming operation. And that operation is under MY control." York
Ibram had heard about York's semi-secession from the Enclave, but he had wanted to make sure. York had said "my" empire; not the Enclave's empire, but his. York was a liability, and eventually, he would have to be removed.
"I understand, Commander York. I merely wished to make sure that you understand what the Senate thinks of your secession from the Republic and wanted you to be under no illusions about who is in control here. Not me, not you, but the Senate. Understood? Now, I believe there are more pressing matters to deal with"
Paladin Nightengale stood up as he looked out over the city. It was odd, there were several Enclave Vertibirds just circling a single area. Every once in a while, one would descend and not return to the air. Nightengale looked at a timer and set it. After about half an hour, he'd watched three Vertibirds land. In ten minute intervals. It seemed coordinated. It seemed off. Then it dawned on him. It was coordinated. They were landing reinforcements and supplies. A bird would land, be taken care of on the ground, and another would come in. The Enclave was amassing troops. This could only mean one thing: another offensive. Nightengale called over another man, Knight-Seargant Reames. "Knight-Seargant, I need you to maintain watch over that area," he said, spanning his arm across the horizon, "count how many Vertibirds land and keep track of their intervals. The Enclave is up to something and we need to know what. Keep Scribe Joletto informed. I need to go to the Bird Cage. Joletto, keep constant communication with HQ." Joletto nodded.
Nightengale walked down the stairwell to the level below where his platoon had taken up residence. Many men were not there, out on patrol on the streets in the area or sitting watches in different parts of the building. "I need four volunteers." Nightengale said. Several men stood up, but Nightengale grabbed only four. The rest were ordered to continue rotation and fill in for the departing men as best as possible. "We're going back to HQ, we have developments. I want light and noise discipline, grab your kit and prepare for hostile contact." The men looked at each other before one spoke up. "Are we at war, Paladin?" Nightengale shrugged. "I'm not sure yet." He put on his modified T-45d Helmet and loaded two Pulse Grenades into his AER11. The rest of the small squad grabbed their kit and headed down the stairway, bound for the streets of Manhatten.
Issachar looked around the room before responding to Stigma's question. "The American Wasteland Army has many things to offer you," he said. "In regards to this upcoming campaign, we can offer you large numbers of trained and armored soldiers from our Hoplum base. We are in possession of small, fast attack craft that can be of use in controlling the island and the Hudson River should the need arise. We have the potential to be able to send back to base for reinforcements and firepower, such as AWA Behemoths and potentially even Trebuchet artillery guns. And finally, if we become allies, the Manhattan Order of Steel will have gained the favor of a large, state-spanning organization, and that favor cannot be taken lightly." Issachar looked around the room at the men and women there. He didn't know what they thought, since their emotions and thoughts were hidden behind carefully-constructed masks of nonchalance. However, Issachar was fairly certain that he had gotten their attention.
Stigma liked what the man was saying. Since the negotiations hadn't begun with the Reformists yet he couldn't be sure of their allegiance. The AWA had all the resources needed by his group. After looking around the room Stigma had a response.
"It does seem like you would be very competent allies. The Enclave is a threat to not only us, but all free people of the Wasteland. You may tell your leader that we accept his proposal. I must ask one request though. Just as you said earlier the Crusade needs to be beaten. I will make the first steps to finishing off the Crusade forces at their base near New York. I need soldiers and supplies from your faction if we want to take down the Crusade once and for all. Do I have your support?" Stigma
Commander Marc Quintin had been charged with defending and controlling the Capital District of New York for years. Everything was under his control until the MOS came into town and wiped out his forces. He was able to retreat with the freighter, but he failed. Quintin was sure that he would be killed for failing by York, but York gave him a second chance. Quintin was supposed to be the commander of the Enclave Strike Team. The Strike Team would take one of the freighters and invade New York by sea. The freighter would be outfitted with plenty of soldiers, vertibirds and even several Ike battle tanks. The operation was not publicly announced though. It would take place in two weeks. Quintin would finally get his revenge. He looked over the list of soldiers under his command for the mission.
Cross finished guiding Hale around. There was something about the man that seemed powerful. Either it was the way he walked or the way he talked. Something about him seemed different. Cross led Hale to his room.
"Sir the operation we are taking part in will begin in two weeks. We on the other hand will be the advance team. We will move into Manhattan in one week and begin sabotaging the MOS and any other faction in the city. Our job is of the utmost importance. If we fail the main force may suffer too many casualties. Good night sir." Cross
Cross began to walk away back to his quarters.
"You most certainly do have our support," Issachar replied. "The right honorable Liegelord Anderson would be more than willing to come against the Crusade in battle and crush them against the heels of the AWA and the MOS. He has no love for those Crusaders, and frankly sir, I don't either. The Liegelord will be honored to work with the MOS, and you should soon expect his presence in order to discuss the battle plans against the Enclave and Crusade. And now, sir, myself and my men will excuse ourselves and bring word of this back to Hoplum. Goodbye, sir." Issachar turned to leave.
Grant had just settled into his new quarters when he received his orders for the next assignment. He and his squad were to be part of some strike team led by a Commander Marc Quintin to invade New York by sea. Grant looked over what little bit of the battle plan he was classified to see. It looked sound enough, from this angle, at least. Grant couldn't be sure, though. To quote an old, pre-War book: "The best laid plans of mice and men are often led astray," or something of that nature. Regardless of how sound the plan was, if this Commander Quintin couldn't pull it off, then the Enclave soldiers were as good as dead. Grant silently prayed that that wouldn't happen.
Skip five hours foward to where Archer has left the skycraper. Chevalier Archer stepped from the shadows and into the sight of the VTOL's occupants, who promptly greeted him. Archer, uncomfrtable around the Brotherhood represenatives, extened a hand, shaking the hand of the opposite soldier. "Chevalier Evan Archer, at your service. Master Ramirez sends his regards. He had more important matters to discuss, unfortunately." Archer said, itching inside his power armor helmet.
Ibram started to apologize to York. "Commander, I'm sorry, butIi have more pressing issues to deal with. As you may have noticed, I'm going to be going with the strike force on the ship. You can tell your Captain not to worry though. I'll just be watching."
Skip to the frieghter
Ibram walked into the ships hold with his helmet off and his trademark gray hair swept back. A group of rangers were unloading their equipment. Ibram called one of them over. "Where is your commander?"
Knight-Seargant Ian Mitchell of the Manhatten Order of Steel stood slauched against one of the MOS's Vertibirds. He felt priveliged to be assigned to such a marvelous bird. On the skyline Enclave V-Birds were dropping supplies onto Providence. He wondered if there was going to be another push. He should ask someone on his next off shift.
Paragon Stephens landed hard. The dive would have hurt, were it not for the fact that her power armor cushioned the impact. Gatling Laser fire ate up the area around where she was just a moment before. Her squad dove into cover behind her, dodging the explosion from a Plasma Grenade as they did so. I thought the Enclave was off the island now, she thought idly as she waited for the laser fire to abate. She looked over and saw that the Enclave soldier was now firing at the wreckage that her soldiers were crouching behind. That wasn't nearly as sturdy as the concrete she was behind. The Paragon tried to poke her head above cover, then ducked as a plasma bolt singed the air near her head. That would have hurt.
Emily tore a frag grenade off her belt and hurled it over the wall she hid behind, then heard it detonate. She popped up and opened fire with her laser rifle, cutting rents through one of the soldier's armor before the Enclave soldiers could retaliate. One of the Sentinels in her party, unfortunately, chose that moment to try and move to new cover. The Gatling Laser fire left him as a smoking heap. She winced. Emily was pretty sure that her soldiers were fucked, until she heard the distinctive rattle of G-36Cs. The Enclave troopers were taking fire from behind!
The AWA soldiers fired and, between them and their unknown saviors, they were able to cut down the Enclave soldiers. The Paragon closed distances with her new allies, who were wearing power armor like the Crusade. Emily was certain that they were the Crusade, until she saw the strange colors on their armor. None of the Crusade wore armor like that. That meant that they were--"Reformists, right?" she said. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you guys. Paragon Emily Stephens of the AWA. I come with an offer of an alliance with the AWA against the Enclave and the Crusade." The soldiers nodded and began to lead her and her remaining soldiers to the Reformists headquarters.
The Rangers stood and saluted. General Chase! Here! Grant barked out, "Technical Sergeant Grant Sutherland, leader of Enclave Ranger Squad Foxtrot, at your service, sir!" He couldn't believe it. The General was here, to speak with him!
"Calm down, Sergeant!" Ibram yelled out at the top of his voice. Lowering his voice to a whisper. "I want to make this perfectly clear, I am not in charge of this operation. The Senate has concerns about the loyalty of Commander Quintin, and your record says you are a loyal man. Are you loyal Grant?"
"My sincere apologies, sir," Grant said. He was genuinely upset that he had irritated the General. Grant was also curious as to why the General would question his loyalty. "Sir yes sir, I am a loyal soldier, sir," he said. "If you would excuse my asking sir, I have several questions." Chase motioned for him to give the go ahead. "First, sir, why would Commander Quintin's loyalty be questioned, sir? I'm aware that he is a secessionist, sir, but he's still Enclave. I can't understand why anyone would, hypothetically, be disloyal to the Enclave, sir. Aren't we the best cause in the wastes, sir? Also, sir, if you don't mind, why are you not in charge of this operation? Since I was a child, I heard about your skill and deeds in battle, sir. In my opinion, based on what I've seen, you'd be the best man for the job, sir."
Kruger had been sneering inside his helmet the whole time when that AWA runt started talking. Kruger was glad to have another ally, but this prick was just one arrogant statement after another. It was like he was making up for his lack of personality by saying he had lots of guns and boats and gunfodder "soldiers". Fat lot of good that would do him if Stigma decided to leave these locals dangling in the wind (yes, Kruger is a hard-line Western Brotherhood thinker). Talking about his "Right Honorable LiegeLord" and all that. However, when he mentioned Behemoths and other heavy support, he had piqued Kruger's interest. Trebuchet artillery. Kruger hadn't heard the sound of artillery since Utah.
"If we stick with them, we keep an eye on them, sir." Kruger suggested to Stigma. He knew all too well that no matter how eager for battle a soldier was, you could only tell their true worth when battle was actually met.
Hale sat down on his bed. Same rough springs as in all barracks. His room didn't have a window, but it was lit by several bright flourescent bulbs. There was a gun rack, a footlocker and a full-sized locker, a desk and chair on the far wall, and it had its own bathroom. All the necessities, but none of the bells and whistles. It was like a private prison cell. Hale lay back on his bed, looking at a picture of his family. His wife Carrie, his son Michael, and his daughter, Lucy. He had missed his daughter's first steps and his son's first words while off on assignment. At least he'd made their first family photo. Michael was thirteen now, Hale had missed that birthday. Lucy, well, she was only nine, but Hale was missing her school play, and a piano recital to be here, in this Godforsaken hellhole. Why had he signed on to the Secret Service, when they were just sending him on Special Operations Missions anyway? He wanted to be guarding the Senate Hall when they were meeting or some other once-a-week job. Not bouncing from State to State like some journalist following a story that they were demanding be put together. He'd make them proud, though. He'd be the one to beat down America's enemies.
Color Sergeant Bradley shook hands with the AWA soldier. "Color Sergeant Bradley, at your service, ma'am." Bradley said as they walked towards the skyscraper, which wasn't too far off. "I hear you and your boys are new to the Northeast theater. Well, we like to think of it as a paradise, but with guns and bullets and gore and such, m'lady." Bradley said, cocking his G36C. "Just want to point out one thing. I don't want to be rude, but I want you to remember we're not Crusade anymore. We've... taken a different view on life than our brothers and sisters." Bradley said, stopping. Something was fishy. Hadn't he ordered Velasquez and Anderson to guard this point until they returned? "Humphrey, check out the crossroads." Bradley said, pointing with his G36C up the road. The Corporal nodded politely, then jogged up the road, his power armor cracking the ground. Edging up to a corner, he poked his helmet and rifle around the side. He turned back to Bradley. "Nothin' Sarge! Just some corpses and a couple spent shell casings!" Humphrey yelled. Bradley nodded. Of course, as soon as Humphrey exited his cover and moved into the main crossroads, sniper fire slammed into his chest. "I knew something was wrong!" Bradley yelled, motioning the rest of the platoon foward. "Ma'am, you may have to wait for those negotiations. Ramirez's skyscraper is still a whole two miles away." Bradley said, his men moving past him in a three meter spread. Bradley hated snipers. Just a single team could stop a whole battalion.
"That's three for me, Sarge." Corporal Andrew said, cocking his SCM .44 Repeater and adjusting the scope. Redfield, his spotter, laughed, tossing him another magazine. "Shut up. You still needed four more of those scalps before you get any caps outta me." Redfield said. Andrew raised an eyebrow, and adjusted his position on the second floor of the ruined house. BRA suits get so uncomfortable some times, Andrew thought, his mind drifting. "Hey, I gotta us another one, Corporal." Redfield said, looking through his binoculars. "Looks like a reformer and his crew. No wait, add some AWA pricks." Redfield said. You could always tell if it was a reformer cause' he had blue markings instead of green on his blackened power armor. The enemy group was moving very cautiously. Andrew didn't dare shoot one bit. "I'm gona radio command. That girly there has some fancy markings on her shoulder." Redfield said, pushing his G36C against the wall and reaching for his ham radio.
Stigma went over the battle plans with his Steel Trinity. The man from the AWA had left yesterday in order to inform his commander of the alliance. Stigma knew that would be back by tommorrow and with reinforcements. He had received a report that Enclave forces were building up near the city and had even begun to enter the city. Stigma immediately mobilized his forces to counter them. Rhodes was sent to the front line to lead the troops there.
"Kruger I need you and your Death Guard to ready themselves. You'll be deploying to Battery Park in the next two days. If the Enclave attack it will be there." Stigma
Stigma had also received word from Wesley that he had met with the Reformists and the meeting was underway.
Wesley shook hands with Archer. The two had already begun discussing a possible alliance.
"As you may know we of the MOS and the American Wasteland Army are preparing for a joint attack on the Crusade. After dealing with the Crusade we hope to defeat the Enclave. Your forces have been fighting the Crusade for years and with your knowledge of their tactics you could be a very useful ally. Superior Stigma has given me permission to ally ourselves with you. Do you accept?" Wesley
Cross knocked on Hale's door. Cross had just received orders from Commander Quintin that all of the members of the Strike Team were to assemble on the freighter. Cross knew that it was early in the morning and most likely Hale was asleep, but he needed to wake him up and get him to the boat. Cross opened the door a little.
"Sir we have to get going." Cross
Archer shook hands with the man. "Walk with me, Mr. Wesley." Archer said, the two walking in a random direction, their guards not far behind watching the surroundings for anything suspicious. "We would love to enter an alliance with you. In fact, there's no reason I wouldn't except. However, we are currently on two fronts, Mr. Wesley, and I can't spare more than a single brigade until the matter of the GPA is taken care of. They've been harassing us for years now, and their damnable death squads have been causing havok among our troops for the past several weeks now. Anyhow, besides the matter of troop numbers being spared for your offensive, I believe you might interested in some facts on the Crusade, if you can spare the time; of course, we can discuss that at a later date."
Fielding was in the Freighter's hold with the rest of the strike force. He had hold of one end of that particular munitions crate, and Corporal Harker had the other, with the two of them carefully carrying it over to the pile of gear his squad were going to be using. He probably didn't need Harker's help - shit, he could probably bench the crate if he wanted to - but he always liked working with his men at every opportunity. "Think that's the last, sir!" Harker said, audibly exasperated. Fielding nodded. "Good work, son!" He said, clapping the trooper on his Power Armored back as he went off to inspect the rest of the team. After a moment's attentive inspection left him feeling satisfied with his soldiers' performance, he paused to peer out over the rest of the hold. A smile crept up along his face. The last time he'd been up against any amount of Brotherhood as a field commander, his career had almost been made forfeit. But with a force this large and Chase to back him up (again), it seemed history wasn't going to repeat itself.
"Alright, I cannot stress this enough, but check your gear, fellas!" He called out to his eight-man team. "If an electromagnet's bust or a lens is off-direction then your weapons'll rip 'emselves apart! Now dependin' on the situation, that may happen to you, simultaneously! Check, God damn it!" He reiterated the point by clapping his hands once over his head, before field-stripping his M72 and reassembling it for the sake of it. Mainly to look busy, and to exploit an opportunity to work with his soldiers. Set an example and what not. He did get the inkling suspicion that he was being patronising, but that was tough shit for them, wasn't it? They were his men and it was his job to get them through the next engagement alive. After finally reinserting the 2mm EC mag and flipping on the safety of his rifle, he opened up one of the pressure-locked crates and started handing out plasma and pulse grenades, taking a few APAGs for himself. Ever since he'd been given access to that type of weapon he'd fallen head over heels for it. Something about watching a dumbass mutie trying to scratch it off its back, then getting its hand stuck to it before being blown apart, somehow made his job feel more worthwhile.
Grant and his ranger squad were on the freighter as well. As he sat in the hold, a Captain that he didn't recognize began shouting out orders to the soldiers to check their weapons. Technically, Grant and his rangers didn't have to comply with the Captain's orders, as they were here as Rangers, not storm troopers. However, Grant made a point of complying with the Captain's orders. Make sure we're all on the same side, right? he thought. Besides, it gave him something to do. He threw a casual salute to the captain before nodding to his ranger squad. Immediately, the elite soldiers stripped down their weapons of all types, as well as perform maintenance checks on their armors. Grant did the same, although he made sure that he kept the Gamma Rifle's reaction chamber sealed off. Opening that would be bad for everyone on board the ship.
"Shit," Emily said as she ducked away from the crossroads. Crusade snipers. Just what she needed right now. She quickly ordered her soldiers to police the weapons from the Enclave soldiers, or at least those they could reach while remaining under cover. Emily had no idea how many snipers there were, and she had no desire to find out the hard way. "Color Sergeant," she said, "do you have contact with support from your base? If not, we may have to raid their tower, which isn't something I want to do if I can avoid it."
"Unecessary, ma'am." Bradley said, motioning for the machinegun team to move foward. Carrying an SCM .30 cal, they moved up to the corner. "We've been doing the same technique for several monthes now. Theese snipers operate in teams of two. We pepper em' with machinegun fire, then have the missile team light up that little hideyhole they're set up in." Bradley said, and watched as the .30 cal moved into place, the rest of the platoon covering them with sporadic fire. Moments later, the .30 cal opened up, lighting up the distant houses with bullets galore. The enemy position, in the shadows, was briefly lit up as the .30 cal moved across it with it's gun barrel. "That's it, boys! Howard, light up those mother fuckers!" Bradley yelled. Howard nodded, then pulled foward with his missile team.
"Fuck!" Redfield said, the .30 cal spraying their position. "They're using the same technique they used on Bravo yesterday!" Redfield screamed over the roar of the machinegun. He finally grabbed his ham radio. "This is Whiskey-579,, requesting assistance! We've got a whole platoon of the buggers bearing down on us Anyone, I repeat, anyone, respond!" Redfield yelled. "Roger, Whiskey-579, we read you. Sergeant Javers and Delta Squad, Sierra Company, inbound. Heading for your position now." The man over the radio said. Redfield sighed relief, and continued to radio his position. Across from him, Andrew fired up a couple .44 shots, taking off the head of a missile-wielding reformer. "That's four, Redfield!" Andrew said, laughing.
Bradley frowned as Howard's head came off, his power armored helmet flying off in some random direction. He turned towards Paragon Stephens. "Ok, maybe we should radio in at the base." Bradley said, crawling to the radio trooper.
"Yes, I suggest you do, Color Sergeant," Paragon Stephens replied. She really just wanted to get these negotiations over with so she could go back to base. Now that she thought about it, why did she get assigned to lead a group so small? The Liegelord must've known that a land group would require more soldiers. He must be getting soft in the head, she thought. This was a brilliant time to get stupid too, right when the AWA decides to gear up for a war with heavily equipped and highly skilled soldiers. When I get back to base, she thought, I'm definitely sending for some Behemoths, and maybe a Trebuchet or two as well. Paragon Stephens sighed as another Reformer got his head blown off. That's not good either, she thought.
She looked over her own group. Fairly straightforward, really. One Sentinel with an R91, two Knights, one with an R91 and one with a Laser Rifle, and one Paladin armed with a Combat Shotgun and a .44 magnum. The .44 wouldn't help her here. But maybe the Reformists could. Emily crawled over to one of the Reformist Snipers and motioned for his Sniper Rifle. The man handed it over. No use fighting while under fire. Emily slowly crawled out to the side of her cover. She made sure that the Crusaders above couldn't see her. She looked through the scope of the rifle and pulled the trigger when she saw movement in the building above.
The round punched through the leg of one of the snipers, but nothing serious. Emily swore as she beat feet back behind cover, .44 and .308 rounds eating up the ground around her. This was why she wasn't Knox: she couldn't pull off a decent shot like that. Emily missed the quite Templar Paragon; he would be really useful in a situation like this, or covering your back period. Emily handed the sniper rifle back. The Reformist could probably use it better than she could.
Paladin Nightengale held up a fist and waved it flat. His squad instantly dropped to a knee behind him. He could hear gunfire throughout the city now. Something was definitely up. They needed to get to HQ and they needed to get there fast. He heard a mix of what sounded like .308, 5.56, and maybe .44 fire. Being in a war torn city this long helps a man distinguish. He motioned for his men to move inside the building they were next to and he followed, the group scanning as they crossed the lobby past the elevators to the far door. They repeated the process in the next building. During the third, however, there was something different. Something was wrong.
Nightengale peeked his head out the window. Nothing was there. Nightengale motioned for his men to stack up. He'd send one across the street to secure the next lobby, then follow. Initiate Patnaude volunteered. Nightengale peeked one more time, scanning the windows of the enclosing buildings then gave the order. Patnaude made it four steps before a single shot rang out. Nightengale watched in horror as the Initiate collapsed in the street without so much as a word. Blood pooled from the wound in his neck. He was dead. "Where'd that come from?" he said to the Knight behind him. The Knight shrugged. Nobody saw it. Now they were a man down and there was an obviously hostile unknown sniper in some window somewhere. He must've been waiting. Nightengale ordered his men to find the stairwell to the second level. From there they could try to get a beed on the sniper. This little setback had to be resolved quickly. They needed to get to base.
It is late in the evening at the MoS Museum of Natural history, where the only lights can be seen shooting into night. As the MoS Initiates sit in there sentry post, one Initiate slowly reacts to the sound of Brahmin steps in the distance. As the foot steps grow closer and a second set of man made steps become apparent the Initiate Drowse his Laser rifle “Halt! In the name of the Brotherhood identify your self”. As the auto lights swivel to the motion of the Brahmin a voice clearly was heard, “Settle down man, I’m just looking to trade some high tech gear”. Low and be hold a grimy trader and his Brahmin came into clear view. The senior Knight jump to what was undoubtedly the only action he would see all night baby sitting new Initiate. The Knight jogged toward the trader, and said “the brotherhood doesn’t sell its gear to just any dirt waster that wanders into our secure zones, BEAT IT!”. the Trader put up his hands “you got me wrong friend, I have quality high tech equipment to sell to you”. the Trader began to grin, undoughtaly getting into his barter mojo, “I got computes part, fission batteries, and even this rare triple barrel laser rifle”. the trader flip the cover of the Brahmin cargo tent to reveal not one but three triple barrel laser rifles. Even in the dark the Knights eyes could be see bulging out of his head “holy hell do those thing real?”. “they shire do my friend. What to try one out?” the trader now leaning against his wears. “your shitting me! Ok then hand it over then.” upon the demand trader tossed a rifle over to the Knight. The Knight was quick to check the safeties and firing switch and then immediately turned to a nearby can and fire. The Initiate reaction to the weapons impressive capabilities were all summed up in the words “WoW” . the Knight turned to back toward the trader and with a grin on his face asked “how much?”. “well its not every day you find such rare weapons but I think I could let it go for the bagin price of 1000 caps and 3 beers?”. the Knight walked over to the trader, “make it 850 caps and 5 beers and it’s a deal”. the Trader didn’t seemed to trilled about that. the Knight however quickly said “I’ll through in a box of rashins as well, come on!”. the traders face retired to a smile “all right, all right, it’s a deal. You have made an excitant choice my friend.” as the Trader turn to leave with his Brahmin back into the night the Initiate shouted out, “Hay man! Were you get that stuff.” the trader looked back and said “some crazy in a businesses suit and glasses gave them to me, His loss I guess!”. as the trader and his Brahmin faded into the night the, the Initiate went back to his sentry post hoping for some Really BIG to happen.
It is early morning as the mist off the river begins to form, sporadic gunfire can still be heard in Manhattan as the varies human faction run about. Of the for faction that still have a presence in Manhattan only the MoS have remained out of the smaller gunfight perpetrated by the Thermopylae Crusader antagonising the AWA/Reformist Joint teams. But this does not meant the MoS has laid dormant during this time, far from it, for they have been the main driving force for the Allied defence of the island and surrounding region. There members move quickly to prepare for an Enclave invasion, but they do not know where from. Would it be from land, air, or sea? They did not know for sure but they knew it was coming. As they busily prepared the defence of both the island and Capital District defenses a lone freighter moves silently through the waters of the Long Island Sound slowly into the east river and Manhattan.
As the early morning mist creeps into the mainland and the sun pocks is head over the hills to start a new day ammines the conflicts of man, a lone barge sits in the water in the Atlantic, a few hundred miles away from the Manhattan ruins. It seam like it would come to be a very decisive day.
Wesley and Archer had discussed the different agreements that both factions would abide by. Wesley knew that the MOS were in a truce with the Ghoul's Peoples Army. Wesley had proposed to Archer to use the MOS' truce with the GPA as a way to end the fighting temporarily. Archer had not made his decision on that matter, but wesley felt confident. With the AWA's forces en route and the Reformists' forces preparing to aid them things were looking up.
Rhodes and his squad entered the streets of Manhattan. He had been briefed by a fellow MOS knight that Enclave snipers were in the area. Paladin Nightengale's squad was down the street and pinned down. Rhodes moved his forces into a nearby building and ran up the stairs. Once they reached the roof Rhodes leaped across to the next building and began hopping across the closely packed buildings. His team followed close behind and could hear the gun fire getting closer. Rhodes looked down and saw a squad of MOS knights enter a building. Rhodes motioned for his team to stop. He had four knights with him and they were itching for a fight. Rhodes reached for his sniper rifle and went prone.
Stigma motioned for the vertibirds to land. In order to speed up the delivery of AWA troops Stigma loaned them two vertibirds, Hawk and Eagle. The two birds landed in Yorkrod. Stigma had planned for Yorkrod to be the staging point for the battle against the Crusade. The Allied Yorkrod Forces agreed to have soldiers build up here as long as the town was not to be in combat. The AYF also devoted a small group of soldiers to help with the operation. The head MOS Scribe Oleander had come up with another name for this operation. Operation Judgment Day was the operation to destroy the Crusade.
Cross had walked with Hale on the deck of the freighter. Their team waited by the starboard side of the ship. The Enclave Advanced Strike Team consisted of six soldiers, two of them being Cross and Hale. They would infiltrate Manhattan by sea at the Collapsed Pathway. From there they would head south and sneak into Battery Park and disable the artillery platforms. They would have to deal with a large amount of mirelurks at the pathway, but that was the least of Cross' worries. They needed to succeed. The main Strike Force was to take vertibirds from the freighter in three days and land all over Lower Manhattan. From there they would go north and kill whatever stood in their way. They would go in waves until Manhattan was theirs.
Nightengale led his squad back down the stairs. The move to the second story had been a mistake, now another of his men was dead. A bullet straight through the helmet had claimed his life before the rest of the group even entered the room. Nightengale took small solace in the fact that he was neither wounded and died suffering, nor was he torn apart by the rampant forces of nature. Still, Nightengale wanted vengeance. He still hadn't seen the source of the shooting, and so could not tell to which faction in Yorkrod that this man belonged. Nightengale looked out across the street at the dead form of Initiate Patnaude. He would claim the fallen soldier's holotags before they left. He'd gotten Knight Ostermann's upstairs. Hopefully he'd have some survivors, including himself, on this run. There was never any guarantees though.
Paladin Nightengale switched on his thermal targeter and crept toward the window again. If he could move subtly, he would be able to avoid detection. Slowly, his head tracked across the windows of the opposite building, finally settling on a bright red form, huddled behind a window. He could see the man peek up over the window and then duck back down. He watched the man's rifle creep up over the ledge. Nightengale readied his own AER11. Just as the man's head popped up, Nightengale let loose a hail of laser blasts, followed by 5.56 rounds from his remaining Knights. He watched the shape duck back down. He recognized easily the distinct shape of the Advanced Mk II Power Helmet. It was an Enclave sniper. The man darted eastward as Nightengale tracked and fired with his AER11. Then he noticed something else. Five more shapes moving toward his position, only they were high up. Very high up. He hoped that maybe by a stroke of luck, he'd be reinforced and they could capture this sniper and make him pay for the loss of his men.
Ibram decided that it probably wasn't worth undermining York's authority anymore, and it was probably time to leave York and his merry crew get their job done, and while that was hapening he would sit behind the lines in Providence Base. Before that, though, he had an assignment to give to Fielding... but where was he?. "Captain! Fielding! Report!"
Fielding was running yet another quick check on his Gauss Rifle when he heard Chase's voice calling for him. Immediately he stood to attention and saluted as he saw the General making his way towards him. "Just instructing the men through a few quick gear checks, sir! They're doing well, sir!" Although his tone gave nothing away, Fielding frowned ever-so-slightly beneath his helmet. The last time Chase had wanted something specifically from him, he'd been sent off in Brotherhood Power Armor and a false identity attempting to disrupt peace negotiations. He dearly hoped that whatever it was Chase required this time, it wasn't as bat-shit insane as the last assignment. He patiently waited for Chase's response. The General seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, before he replied.
Rhodes aimed his rifle at the windows. He was looking for any hostiles, but couldn't spot any. He had spotted some MOS soldiers moving through the building, but it looked like they were firing at someone. Rhodes finally see the man they were shooting at, but the enemy disappeared from sight. Rhodes got up and moved into a better position.
"Anthony, Bart you two head over to that building and give our allies support. The rest of you stay with me and give me cover." Rhodes
The two knights descended back down the building using a fire escape and headed to the opposite building. Rhodes tracked the other MOS squad's movements while they were going through the building. Rhodes saw a grenade trap ahead of them. He fired his sniper setting off the grenade trap and saving the other MOS knights from harm. A bullet shot out of the window and hit one of his knights dead in the chest. The knight fell backwards and Rhodes rolled out of the way to avoid any more fire.
"That should've exposed the enemy's position to the others." Rhodes
Ibram new what Fielding was thinking,The last time chase had asked for fielding personaly it was to send him off on a mad atempt to disrupt peace negotiations between the brotherhood and the NCR.This time however the mission was far more sensible."Nothing mad this time fielding.I just want you to keep an eye on Yorks forces il asign you an assistant for this.My combat drone flufy will be acompaning you".The drone moved round the corner of a stack of suplies."good morning sir i will asist you in monitering commander yorks orders"
"Look, asshole, state your yourself and your purpose before I slot you with my sword." Chapel said, yawning slightly, unimpressed with this newcomer. "I'll be frank, Mr whatever your name is; I don't like people waltzing into my highly secured, impenatrable base." Chapel said. He didn't like the way this asshole talked to him. Fine American this and Fine American that! Chapel noticed how some of men were practically drooling, mesmerized by this 'business man. However, what made him happy was the Airborne Praetorians guarding him, aswell as Generals Kirk and Wembley. They didn't buy it, and weren't as weak-willed as his other subordinates. "I don't like this guy." Kirk said, his eyebrows in an annoyed pattern. "Just send him to the slaughterhouse with a guard, and be done with it." Kirk said. "We don't have time for this, Kirk's right, Chapel." Wembley said. Chapel waved off the notion. If the man was this well educated, he must've been of some miniscule importance. "Make it quick, waster." Chapel said.
Archer nodded. "Deal with the GPA first, comrade, and send us word on their decision. We've killed scores of their men; they may not be so happy with entering an armistice with the men they've been trying to annhiliate." Archer said, stretching his arms and his jaw for a moment. "Looking foward to the offensive, Praetor." Archer, extending his hand.
Bradley grabbed the radio, broadcasting as quickly as possible. This C-Sarge Bradley, requesting assistance. We're pinned down on 36th Street, near the crossroads. Some firepower wwould be nice, if you could bring some of the ground-huggers." Bradley said, clicking off the radio. He turned towards the Paragon. "Well, I tried to keep it short and sweet. Can't wait for a response, cause' CCI is always monitoring our radio channels." Bradley said, pulling out his rifle once again as automatic fire began slamming into their position. "Ok, maybe they beat us to the "reinforcements" part of the plan, but we've still got the... ok we don't havre the high ground." Bradley said, coming up from cover and dropping back down as soldiers clad in SCM BRAs fired at their positions, the rattle of the G36Cs matching the fire of the R91s in the employ and service of Bradley's men. KuHB1aM 20:46, 13 May 2009 (UTC)
“Ah, a man straight to the point I like that.” Mr. smith turn to face chapel directly. “I am ashored that you are a man who is aware of his own situation, so I while not insult you by going over the grand feet of recapping the local events. Needless to say your wicked enemies seek to destroy everything you and your fellow Pure kin have tried to build. If you were to fail in your noble crusade here, your heritage will fall into the dark depths of an forgotten history. My associates and I wish only to see that you survive to see a new world be born from the ashes of America’s enemies.” Mr. Smith took out and envelope and placed it the centre of the table. “If you wish to be a part in that new world you while follow the instructions enclosed in this envelope.” He got up from his chair and walked over to the door. “I hope to work with you in the future Mr. Chapel. Good day to you all my fin Airborne.” and with that Mr. Smith disappeared into the corridor.
A subordinate walked over to the table and inspected the envelope before opening it. “Sir there is nothing but a key and map of directions?” the subordinate said as he handed the envelope and its contents to Chapel. “What should we do?”
Got him Paladin Nightengale thought to himself as he prepped the Pulse Grenade Launcher. He'd seen the muzzle flash this time. He aimed carefully and pulled the secondary trigger on his AER11. The grenade sailed directly into the window he wanted. He watched the Enclave trooper convulse as the blue EMP field enveloped him. The man dropped as two more Manhatten Brothers emerged. "Boy am I glad to see you," Nightengale said to the men as they met in the street. "Just knocked out an Enclave sniper. Pulse Grenade shorted his armor, he should be intact. I've lost two men. Who's your commander?" "Rhodes," the Knight said flatly. "Well, lets go get that sniper. Armor is disabled but the man should be intact, albeit trapped inside. He'll be good for interrogation, then he'll be shot." Nightengale said.
The squad made it's way across the street, linking up with Rhodes and the other survivors once inside the building. The group moved upstairs to find the sniper sprawled out, his armor useless and heavy and unable to move. "Take his weapons and ammo," Rhodes ordered. "He cost me two men," Nightengale said to Rhodes,. "And me one," Rhodes said back. Nightengale wanted to get the interrogation over at HQ so that the sniper could pay the blood owed. He loaded another Pulse Grenade into his AER11 as his mind wandered to how it worked in it's first combat experience. Accurate, powerful, adding an extra punch. He could be satisfied with this weapon from here on out. He now had much to report at HQ. He did not relish the casualty reports, nor the short-handedness that the losses would bring, but it was a fact of life he had to deal with. Nightengale walked back down to Patnaude and picked up his holotags. He looked up to see that the other Manhatten Brothers were moving the sniper. They were still bound for HQ.
“Man, this is FUCKING AWESOME GUN!” the MoS knight proclaimed. The Knight sat in the Museums workshop with his Initiate and his best friend, also a MoS Knight. The three relaxed in the corner of the large hall that was presently being used to build new Assault Vertibirds, “Fuck I should have bought some spare parts for this bad boy a Jack?”, the Knight turn to speak to his friend. “man I don’t care, all I need is a knife and a pistol and I’m all set.” jack replied. “your just jealous that you didn’t get a chance to buy one for your self. Hay Brother Michel! Come over here and look at my new gun” the Knight motion to a scribe across the hall from where he was sitting to come over. “Man this is soooo boring! When are we going to see some action.” the Initiate proclaimed. “don’t worry your little grunt head about in things are about to heal up really quick, I can fell it in my gut.” Jack proclaimed. The Scribe walked over to the Knight “yes Knight Grees, what is it”. Grees grinded “no need to be so formal, here check you this. A fully operational triple Barrel laser rifle” Grees held his newly gain glory to Michel. “that’s not a triple barrel laser rifle, it has to many energy cells… what is that suppose to be?” Michel pointed to a large perturbing box that seemed to push out of the rifles casing. Grees looked at the gun “what ?!”. Michel tried to explain “is has to many components to be a triple barrel laser rifle, here let me…” as Michel reached for the gun Knight Grees yanked it away from him. “I see what you are doing, trying to have this baby al to your self. Well you can forget it its mine.” Gree stated dominantly. “Ok I am not going to make a big deal out of this but its not what you think it is. I got to get back to work.” and with that Michel walked off .
Stigma watched as the final vertibirds, carrying AWA forces, landed. They were finally ready to attack the Crusade. Wesley had informed him that the Reformists would be able to send help once the Ghouls People Army was dealt with. Stigma knew they needed the Reformists aid. He had sent Wesley to negotiate with the GPA also. The AWA had several hundred soldiers waiting. The AYF had almost a dozen troops and the MOS had 500 ready for action. Stigma had two of the Assault Vertibirds move ahead to scout the Crusade base.
"Okay everyone with me. We are marching to Thermopylae. We will surround it and siege it until the Crusade admits defeat!" Stigma shouted.
Stigma and the rest of the army began moving to Thermopylae.
Rhodes' squad and Nightengale's squad finally arrived at the Museum. They tossed the Enclave sniper in a jail cell and made preparations for his interrogation.
"Paladin Nightengale I want you to take this pip boy. With this you will be able to communicate with any nearby MOS base. We only have a handful of them. I want you to take both of our squads and head back to the area we fought the Enclave sniper. I need your group to search for any hidden Enclave outpost. We never fully cleared the area so there may be a hidden underground bunker. Keep me constantly updated." Rhodes
The landing boat stopped once it hit the shore. Cross moved silently out of the boat and helped the others exit. The Advanced Strike Team had finally made it to shore. The problem was that there were off course. They landed in Lower Manhattan instead of the Collapsed Pathway. In order for them to make it by the MOS' defenses they needed their boat's motor off and let the water currents carry them. No one was able to predict the strong winds caused by MOS vertibirds flying overhead. Cross checked his map. They wouldn't be able to sneak in from the south due to the turrets, but if they moved in from the east they could get through. An underground Enclave bunker was nearby though. Cross figured they should stop by in order to inform the Enclave commander Quintin of their predicament. Cross led the way as they moved through the streets silently. They were all wearing captured T-4x Power Armors painted white. They needed to blend in with MOS knights.
A lone MOS knight walked up to them carrying a weapon Cross never saw before.
"You guys with Nightengale's squad. Star Paladin Rhodes told us they would be passing by." MOS Knight
"Yes we are. We were just heading to the other side of those buildings to make sure the area was clear. We got control over the area so tell your men they could go back to their original posts." Cross
"Yes sir." MOS knight
The knight left and went back with his squad. Cross had cleared the path for them so it should be an easy trip to the underground bunker.
Hale grumbled inside his helmet. He hated using Power Armor. Well, he didn't hate it, he just preferred his BlackOps Armor. He flexed his fingers inside the crude T-4x gauntlets. This heavy stuff made him feel vulnerable, in spite of the heavy plating laid over it. He felt exposed, stifled. It was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, not to be able to move like he was used to when he fought. It also annoyed him that the stuff didn't have a Stealth Field. Although, all things considered, Power Armor was useless for sneaking around, so a Stealth Field would be pointless. He had been able to keep his M1911 and M72 for the mission, and no one had commented on the bag slung over his back, containing a Sawed-Off shotgun and an FN FAL.
He whistled as he walked, trying to improve his mood. Not that it actually worked. The metallic tone his armor inflicted on the happy tune only made Hale feel worse. And it made everyone stare at him to see if he was alright. He muttered something too low for the armor's vocalizers to pick it up, but by his body language, people assumed he wasn't having a good time walking around in what was essentially a tin can with limbs attached. At least Cross wasn't some moron out to get his next promotion, at the expense of his soldiers. So far. If he was, Hale might just have to bust his head in an "unfortunate" incident of blue on blue action in the middle of a gunfight. Hale liked Cross, so he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
As Captain Henry Bane looked out over the ocean toward the small specks of land in the distance, he could only think of one thing, Why the fuck was he sent to command the beat up barge? Bane walk across the garbage ribbon deck to the stairs leading into the hale. As he descended into the lower decks he was greeted by saluting maintenance tech and marines feverously working to keep the boat afloat. He turned the corner into the room filled with high tech equipment and computers that seemed highly out of place for a Lead Barge. Bane presided to walk over to a man seated at a computer terminal, “Whats the state of the homing device corporal.” the corporal turn in is seat “We got clear signal thought the area.”. He reaches across the desk to grab a map “the best one is still one move. I think its along the queens and … Brooklyn roads.” “I need more then ideal speculation if we are to land corporal,” Bane sternly interrupted. “Ah sir I am pretty sure that we have a lock on target 1, at central part and 7th street. It hasn’t move a day so as long as the maps aren’t wrong we got a defiant target.” the corporal responded. Bane looked down at the floor and ten back at the corporal “corporal am I hearing this right? I was under the impression you were THE BEST navigational officer here in the north and all I am getting is hopes and pretty good guesses? You get me a priority 1 defiant target now or your going to have to swim back to shore to get it for me.” the corporal turn white “YES SIR, all have the correct targets in the computer by before the dead line sir.” the corporal went back to work. Bane observed quietly, internally thinking about what would happen if he failed. But he know that he would not because the fates of thousands rested on his shoulders.
Cross walked slowly during the streets. He didn't want to draw any unneeded attention. The MOS knights were still withdrawing from the area so they would notice if Cross and the others were acting suspicious by running. According to his map the entrance to the bunker was another three blocks ahead. Cross was satisfied that his team got to keep their weapons. Since the MOS knights used a variety of weapons bringing a plasma rifle and other Enclave goodies was fine. Cross spotted the building where the bunker was up ahead. He motioned to the others that it was straight ahead.
Ezel flipped his coin in the air. He had been waiting for some commands from the MOS High Command for awhile, but he knew the reception out here in Albany was horrible. A large commotion started to develop outside his house. He got up and walked outside to see what it was. An MOS vertibird was descending in the town square. Ezel didn't remember any orders about vertibirds coming here. Ezel ran up to the bird and Praetor Wesley got out.
"Sir what are you doing here?" Ezel
"I need your help Ezel. You being a Ghoul will come in real handy." Wesley
Grant staggered slightly. Hale shot him a look that would have drained the blood from the ballsiest man's face, except for the fact that his heavy helmet and polarized eyeholes blocked it. Grant was about to apologize, but then thought against it. No telling who could be listening. He was seething inside. Not only had he tripped, but didn't Grant join the Rangers to get away from this power-armored bullshit? He hated armor's cumbersome, restrictive movements, and this antiquated technology only made it worse. Not to mention he had almost no peripheral vision and these damn shoulder pauldrons made complex arm movements a bitch. Yeah, he'd trained for this, but he was just so accustomed to his Tesla Armor, or, even better, his Ranger armor. You were more mobile in those armors, and the best defense has always been not to be there.
Grant shook the sack he carried over his shoulder. He was glad he had had the foresight to bring his Ranger armor along, as well as his Gauss Rifle and a few grenades, mostly of the pulse and APAG varieties. His Gamma Rifle was slung over his back, and his trench knife was at his waist. Be prepared, the motto of the Enclave Junior Ranger Corp. Of course, most people in the Corp never joined the Rangers. Their loss, Grant thought. They're only food for the hell zones.
Adrian Tenkage arrived via Birdy, he was sent by the Enclave help with this endever, Ghouls and Brother hood to kill, good combo.
He took a look around the small outpost, people were working making sure trhings were ready and he was abit miffed that no one thought about sending someone to see him here.
"Bastards didnt' send me a welcome mat, not even a private to welcome me, oh well This War will be won, any Tenkage is worth 1000 men (Just a thought by him it isn't really its more one Tenkage is worth 5 men at most)" He thought.
Paladin Nightengale walked along the quiet streets of Manhatten. They were supposed to be passing some checkpoint somewhee. Knightsholding an advance OP. They hadn't yet, but oh well. Some firefight was going on in some corner of the city. They could hear it distantly. At the Museum they'd re-fitted and re-armed. Nightengale now had an eight-man squad, one carrying a flamer, one with a minigun, one with a missile launcher, and five with AER9's. Not to mention Nightengale himself, the ninth, carrying his new AER11. His order was simple, return to the area he encountered sniper activity, do a torough search, and flush out any hidden Enclave there. Carrying out this mission was not so simple. If, in fact, there were more Enclave there, they could've easily re-occupied the position, in which case Nightengale and his men could be walking into a trap. That was the life though, the life of a soldier. The life of a Manhatten Brother of Steel.
They came to the corner of the street. Nightengale recognized it by the body of Initiate Patnaude still laying in the street. His blood having long-since hardened to the street. "Ok," he said to his squad, who stacked up on the corner. "We sweep the buildings individually, and we maintain contact with each other at all times. If we move as a squad, we should be able to overcome any small outpost we might find." "And if it's a big outpost?" one of his men spoke up. "You expect to live forever?" Nightengale answered. "Let's move out."
Cross was the first to walk into the building. He looked around for the entrance to the bunker. He began to take off the bulky power armor and replaced it with his own lighter clothing. One of the others spotted the entrance. Cross ran over and saw the keypad. He entered the correct codes and the floor shifted. A stairwell opened up and Cross descended down the steps. He turned on the lights and began to check around to see if anyone else was in there. The bunker looked like it was recently used, but no one was there now. Cross tossed the power armor into the corner and opened the weapons locker. Inside were several plasma rifles and plasma pistols as well as a large amount of microfusion cells. Cross tossed a few to the others and packed some for himself. The terminal on the wall began to beep. Cross checked it out to find why it was beeping. Nine figures were moving towards the building.
"It seems like we have company outside. Everyone lock and load." Cross
Adrian looked around the camp, he saw some privates running around and he saw no sign of a commander, hell even a Private didn't notice him.
"My god, wasn't anyone informed of me coming?" HE thought.
Grant was in the middle of the process of changing his armor. Cross threw him a couple microfusion cells. Grant nodded his gratitude, then began putting his vest on. Grant was in the middle of pulling on his tactical gloves when Cross mentioned something about people outside. Immediately, everyone in the room began preparing much faster. Grant pulled his helmet over his head and secured it, then sheathed his combat knife, strapped his grenades to his belt, slung his Gamma Rifle over his shoulder, and grabbed a hold of his M72 Gauss Rifle. He was ready now.
Issachar and three other Paladins stood guard and saluted at the Museum's dock as Liegelord Anderson and a small group of Majors and Lieutenants disembarked off of an AWA Interceptor. Issachar and the others fell into step around the commanders in a rough box formation, ready to provide covering fire and protection should the commanders need it. The group reached the gates without incident and entered. Immediately, Liegelord Anderson made a beeline for Superior Stigma, who stood overseeing his troops. The Liegelord approached Stigma and began to talk with him while the others stood at attention.
"Liegelord Uriah Anderson of the American Wasteland Army base at Hoplum," Anderson said. "You must be Superior Stigma of the MOS. A pleasure to meet you. I would continue with these pleasantries, but we have a war to plan. If you please, would you share with me your intel or battle plans, so that I know how to commit my men?" The Liegelord seemed nice enough, but Stigma could hear the steel behind his voice.
Adrian saw a Field Commander running to him who then tripped, he must have been a newbie
Adrian frowned, this was his superior?
The comander got up " Adrian Tenkage of the Black Ops, sorry I didn't send someone to greet you, we don't have time to talk we need you to go and find the MOS base and take it out"
Adrian grined, finally a mission worthy of him, Sabatougue (SP) was a favorite pasttime for him and he was ready to make it happen
"Anything I should know?" He asked
The Commander looked at a form "I was told to let you do what you want but if you ever meet a man named Hale, stay away from him, it would seem his record indicates that he is not to be triffed with, seems he was ina special program and thats all I got on him, anyway We already located the base, so we will send a Vetri-"
"Sorry I don't need one, I can walk, besides you fool didn't you think that wouldn't alert the enemy?" HE said
The Commandor sighed and gave Adrian the form explaining the mission, a simple messing with the enemy Base, download some plans onto his Pipboy 4000 (Enclave Brand) and take out the leader, pretty simple for Adrian, little did he know that this would be his last mission
Stigma shook hands with the Liegelord. The man definitely made a good impression on him.
"Our battle plan is actually very simple. Once we arrive at Thermopylae we will surround the base and siege it with our forces. We used this same strategy on the Enclave in New York and beat them. Hopefully it will work twice. We will send several squads inside the base during the siege and try and take down as many Crusaders as possible. As long as we hold the siege line we will win. I will fly over to the battlefield in my vertibird. You are welcome to join me." Stigma
Stigma entered the vertibird, Steel-1, and sat down. It would only took a short time to reach Thermopylae. The MOS knights were already near the base and with the AWA moving there too they would be ready within several hours.
Wesley and Ezel landed their vertibird near the small compound. The two were supposed to meet the GPA leaders here. Both soldiers stepped out of the vertibird. Three Ghouls holding assault rifles walked up to them. They seemed shocked that Wesley brought a Ghoul. Wesley knew Ezel being here would help in gaining the Ghoul's trust.
Hale bounced on the balls of his feet, never happier to be back in his BlackOps Armor. He didn't have the helmet on, but he didn't care. He was out of that restrictive tin suit, and was getting warmed up for fighting these MOS dogs. Mongrel bastards. He stretched out his shoulders and swung his arms in a few tight circles to loosen out his upper body and then returned to bouncing on his toes. Some of the other soldiers were giving him odd looks, but he returned a look that would have melted their bones if looks could kill. He hefted his M72 Gauss Rifle in his hands and paced for a second before moving up alongside Cross with a curt nod.
"Do they scream like men or bark like dogs when they die?" Hale joked. He hated the Brotherhood with every fibre of his being. It was when killing them that he felt truly alive. That and when he was with his family.
Kruger had watched silently as Stigma and this Liegelord spoke about the coming battle, standing back like some fortified wall, ready to come crashing down if those AWA morons made a move. He never said anything against them, though. It would have been plain stupid to insult a military ally.
But now, he was sitting in the troop compartment of the Whirly, the Death Guard's Vertibird, chugging lazily alongside Steel-1. He was cleaning his Chinese Assault Rifle, laid across his knees, and his Breaching Sledge was leaning against the seat next to him. Every Death Guard was going through their Pre-Battle routine of cleaning guns and going over disembarkation movements, as well as more peculiar habits, like shaving, brushing their teeth or combing their hair. Kruger himself was going through his own little idiosyncracy, checking for grey hairs. Well, actually, by now it was more like trying to find the few black ones left.
Liegelord Anderson spoke briefly to a decorated Major beside him, then stepped onto the Vertibird with Stigma. The Major spoke, delivering orders to his Lieutenants and the other Majors before giving the AWA personnel present general orders to move out. The Lieutenants fanned out among the rest of the AWA soldiers, delivering more specific instructions to the Paragons. One such Lieutenant spoke to Issachar. It seemed that he would be part of the AWA vanguard, as well as a large assortment of other Knights, Paladins, and even a few Justiciars.
Outside the base, MOS and AWA soldiers who had been chosen to guard the museum sat, bored, as they watched their brothers-in-arms gear up. Suddenly, they heard the distant thundering of wheels and the roar of engines. They looked out, and were greeted with the site of fully-manned AWA Behemoths charging through the streets towards the base. A cheer went out from the AWA soldiers when the vehicles came into view. Issachar's glance, however, caught site of something he saw in the back that must have eluded the vision of the other soldiers. The last Behemoth was hauling a Trebuchet artillery piece behind it.
The MOS Knights assembled 5 miles outside the Crusade base Thermopylae. The only real resistance out there were the Crusade scouting teams. The MOS knights easily trampled over them. The AWA forces were already in site and the vertibirds carrying several key figures were landing.
Stigma exited his vertibird and began ordering troops to prepare for the attack. Stigma had several members of the Stealth Force present for the battle. They would be the first team to enter Thermopylae and clear a route for future excursions. High Paladin Andrew Thompson was the squad leader for the Stealth Force members here.
"Liegelord if you wish to send any units into Thermopylae now then have them meet with my Stealth Force. During our initial assault the Stealth Force along with whatever troops are with them will make an entry way for more of our forces." Stigma
Stigma spotted Kruger getting off of his vertibird.
"Kruger are you up for skydiving today?" Stigma
Cross watched as the hostiles came closer to their location. Cross noticed a hatch on the wall adjacent to him. He went over to it and opened it. The hatch led to the sewer system.
"Everyone listen I know you are all up for a fight, but we have to keep our presence here a secret until we finish our objective. We'll take the sewers and get out at the first manhole. From there we'll head to Battery Park. Grant I need you to lay some explosives in case the MOS find the bunker." Cross
Cross crawled into the hatch and made his way into the sewers. The sewer stench was intense. Due to the lack of care the entire sewer system was filled with wastes. Cross heard the distinctive sound of a whole group of Feral Ghouls screeching.
"HALO or HAHO?" Kruger responded to Stigma. Truth be told, he hated jumping out of that bird while at high altitude. He felt that if he was supposed to be doing that, he'd have evolved wings by now.
Kruger looked around, watching the AWA forces move towards their own assembly point. Kruger had to admit, they were an impressive sight when they were finally stirred to battle. If only they weren't such self-righteous fools. Kruger had seen the fruits of their labour. Burned settlements, executed innocents and more. Their officers made his skin crawl.
"Fan-fucking-tastic." Hale said flatly as he heard the Ferals come charging down the sewage pipes. He had gone from a potential battle with his favourite enemies, to a slaughter of his least favourite. After other Enclave citizens of course. He hated killing them, above anything else. He was still sick with himself for what he did in New Mexico.
He shot the first Feral to show it's ugly face, splattering its meagre allowance of brain matter all over the walls. He muttered a quiet insult at the carcass and fired again as a Reaver came into view. It had been priming a grenade just as it stepped into his crosshairs. Then he activated his BlackOps armor's stealth field. Smiling, he sloshed down the tunnel at the head of the little column, stabbing the occassional Ghoul as it stepped out of the side tunnels. The others were busy shooting at the mass of Ghouls charging up the tunnel straight ahead.
Consul Chapel opened the envelope, looking at several documents and a mapped section of New York. "Kirk, send a platoon to these locations. I want information on this bullshit." Chapel said, tossing the envelope to Kirk, and moved for the operations room, where several officers were waiting. The CCI operative greeted him. "Good afternoon, sir. If you'll take a look at these documents and the wall interface, you'll notice there's been a lot of activity. Apparently, the MOS and those scumbags allies of there's want to plant a bomb of some sorts, deal a blow to us." The CCI man said "Impossible." Chapel said. "How did you come across this?" Chapel said. The CCI operative snapped his fingers. A blastdoor slid open, and two MoS scouts were thrown inside, under the watchful eye of three Airborne Praetorians. Not bothering for formal introductions, Chapel turned back towards the CCI man. "Have we gotten everything we could out of them? Chapel asked. The man nodded. With that, Chapel drew his sword, decapitated both men, and kicked their bodies over, blood spewing everywhere. "Send the corpses back to the MOS. I want every single man not on active duty in the perimeter sent to Level's One, Two, and Three and to prepare defensive countermeasures. VTOLs are to be put on standby. And bomb the fuck out of Hoplum. I want the AWA factor removed." Chapel said, annoyed at the corpses. Snickering, Chapel moved for the elevator to the top surface entrance. They wanted a fight, and Chapel was going to give them one.
Stigma went over the layouts of the Crusade's base. The Reformists had provided the MOS with the layouts of Thermopylae. The only problem with this is that these plans were outdated. Nonetheless they would have to do. Also the Vault Tech HQ had information on this base due to it being a Vault Tech creation.
"Okay the Advance Team will move in through a secret tunnel located on the east side of the base. It is a ventilation shaft. The strong winds from their internal air conditioner will be hard to go through, but I expect all of you to get the job done. From there you will all find the control switch for the main entrance and open it. Kruger your group will drop onto their base from above. In order for them to send out there vehicles they need to open a hatch. When that hatch opens your team will drop in. Expect a lot of heavy resistance. We will try and give you some smoke screen from Whirly. The rest of our forces will surround the base and siege it until the main entrance is open. Then we will move into their base and wipe out the Crusade. We will not let this battle become like the famous Spartan battle at the Pass of Thermopylae. They have superior numbers, but we have the superior skill and technology. Move out!" Stigma
Wesley was led deep into the GPA base. Many Ghouls stood to the side and were whispering to each other. Wesley and Ezel were led to a large door.
"Our leader is here. He has been waiting for you." Ghoul soldier
Wesley and Ezel nodded. The two walked into the room.
Cross fired another plasma bolt at a Feral Ghoul. The group was able to move pretty quickly through the sewers even with the many Feral Ghouls. Cross kneeled down and fired another shot. The plasma melted through another Ghoul's head. Cross spotted a Glowing One up ahead. He fired another two shots. Both shots impacted the ghoul and the ghoul exploded. The radiation wave caught Cross off guard and it knocked him back. Two Feral Ghoul Reavers immediately descended on him. One of them bit him in the shoulder. Cross tried to fight them off, but they were too powerful. He reached for a plasma grenade in his belt. He shoved the grenade in one Ghoul's mouth and kicked it off of him. The grenade beeped and blew up the Ghoul. The other Reaver reached for Cross' rifle.
Airborne Captain Etre Mendoza stood on the walls of Thermopylae. He’d heard about some sort of attack plan on good ol’ Thermop, and it obviously wasn’t gonna work. Sneak in? Blow the main gates? Destroy the fuel depot? Ok, maybe Mendoza hadn’t heard the plans. But he sure well knew what was gonna happen. Those fuckers were gonna sneak in while some AWA forsaken bitches tried to divert them. To be honest, Mendoza was thinking it would work. Execept he was Airborne. The entire perimeter was made of Airborne. Airborne everywhere. Hell, even the VTOLs were being prepped by Airbone!!! Gripping his Paulsen, Mendoza looked over the wall. Somethin’ was odd. There was these little specs running towards them (GPA). They had the weirdest skin, and they were accompanied by human-looking foes in armor with better weapons (AWA). “Well I’ll be damned!” Mendoza said, slamming the alarm klaxon controls and grabbing the radio control. “Perimeter Guards, this is the North Wall, contact with enemy forces. However, weakly armed and not very intimidating, ha. Keep on the look out for suspicious activity. Maintain patrols if not in walls in platoon level formations. Mendoza out.” Mendoza said, and recoiling his head slightly as a ladder slammed against the wall. Pointing his Paulsen over the wall, Mendoza counted to three, pulled the trigger, let the shotgun kill whoever was on the ladder, and promptly pushed it back down, yawning.
Issachar felt sorry for those advance guard men who had to take the full force of the guards at the beginning of the attack. They deserved better deaths than that. Still, those pompous Crusade assholes would be whistling a different tune when the AWA Behemoths and the Trebuchet pulled up and rained fiery death on those pompous zealots. The Behemoths and the AWA army crept closer to Thermopylae.
Grant had laid down explosives back in that room. Not the best pattern out there, but by no means the worst. Now, he was chopping through these damn ghouls. They just threw themselves at their attacker, most of them, anyway. It was almost said. Grant snapped back to the present. One of those damn Reavers was reaching for Commander Cross's weapon. That wasn't good. Grant raised his M72 and fired. The weapon's deep boom filled the sewer as the rifle's magnetic coils hurled a tiny particle at impossibly high speeds at the Feral, punching a deep hole in it's chest. Before it could stop to comprehend what had just happened, Grant fired two more times, dropping it, before turning his attentions to a Roamer that had decided to attack the Ranger.
Mendoza counted to three again, pointed the shotgun downward, drank some liquor, then fired, the Paulsen rocketing. The ghouls screamed, aswell as an AWA soldier, and blood spewed everywhere. Yawning, Mendoza kicked the ladder over once again, and put it out of commission permanently with a frag, wood splinters and shrapnel flying everywhere and tearing up his foes. Waiting for another ladder, Mendoza listened to the radio. ‘’“North Wall Sierra, this West Wall, Dingo. MoS forces attempting to enter through exterior ventiliation shaft on wall. Extreme difficulty repelling. Requesting assistance.”’’ The Airborne on the radio said. Mendoza radioed them back. “Roger, Dingo, this is Sierra. En route to your location, will arrive ASAP, ETA two minutes.”’’ Mendoza said. With that, Mendoza repeated his ladder process one more time, then motioned for two reserve platoons on the ground behind the walls, who were on standby, to follow him.
Thompson led the Advanced Team into Crusade territory. His squad had stealth field generators outfitted, but the AWA soldiers that accompanied them didn't. They knew that and that is why they made themselves a distraction. Several gunshots went off and several AWA soldiers went down. Thompson led his men quickly through the area. There were mines scattered about and while moving through them he and his team disabled several mines. The ventilation shaft was up ahead.
Stigma watched as the MOS knights and the AWA soldiers made their final advance towards Thermopylae. The Advanced team moved ahead an hour ago and now it was time for the main forces to strike. The MOS vertibirds and the AWA Behemoths charged forward. The leading MOS knights fired upon the Crusade soldiers. Stigma knew that this would be a hard fought battle, but if the Reformists arrived in time then maybe they could win with as few casualties as possible.
Cross grabbed his rifle from the dead Reaver and got back up. His left shoulder was killing him from the Reaver's bite. He had no time to do anything about it. Six more Ghouls charged down the tunnel. Cross pulled out his plasma pistol and fired with his one good arm. The ghouls were easily taken care of, but several Glowing Ones also showed up. Cross began to think about why there were so many ferals down here.
"Everyone we have to retreat. Grant, Hale can you two cut a path for us. The rest of us will cover you." Cross
Cross fired several more shots. The cells in the pistol ran out. Cross threw his pistol at an approaching ghoul. He pulled out a plasma grenade and tossed it blowing up another group.
Adrian saw some Vetribirds flying overhead and he thought "Maybe I should have gotton a ride...maybe that Hale Fellow could give me a lift, isn't he a black ops?"
His thoughts are cut off by some Enclave soliders screaming Adrian turned and Saw some Ghouls running into the camp and tearing down the sliders
"Mother fuckers" He said and he pulled out his plasm grenade and threw it taking out 3 ghouls
"This is Black Ops Adrian Tenkage, we need support, Ghouls flanked the camp, we need support" HE said into his comlink function of his Pipboy 4000
Casually ducking from gunfire directed at him by the MoS Knights and the AWA soldiers, Mendoza waited for the men to get closer to where the supposed ventilation shaft was. So that was where they were going to try and get in. If Dingo’s Airborne Captain was right, they’d win this hands down. If not… well, Thermop was gonna turn into a giant firecracker. Motioning for the reserve platoons with him to set up their .30 cals and brace themselves in case of a breach, Mendoza made his way towards the other Captain, who was situated next to him above the shaft. “We’re getting reports that they’ve got some sneakies trying to bust in, but nothing yet. However, we’ve pinpointed radio transmissions. They’re gonna get in at the shaft. If we don’t stop em’, we fucked.” The Captain said. Mendoza nodded, and grabbed a .44 Repeater from a gun rack. Pushing aside a dead Airborne and taking his place, Mendoza keenly aimed down the road from atop the wall, looking for shimmers. Nothing. But the AWA men and the MoS were very spread out, which didn’t make sense, considering there was lots of cover and they could amount their firing into one from collective positions. “Captain Roy, I’d radio South Wall Tango and East Wall Ivory to be on the lookout.”
Adrian began to fire at ghouls, they were coming at them andthe Enclave soliders were freaking out, must have been a lot of rookies, lots of them will be getting Purple HEarts after this
"Damn it, who sent them? " HE thought "We need support, the field commander is dead, I saw his face ripped off, come on send someone" Adrian said into the com link avoiding some ghoul guts from a well placed shot from another Solider
Grant stabbed the Roamer with his combat knife. "Damn ghouls!" he swore. He acknowledged Cross's order and began firing his Gauss Rifle to clear the way. He had no idea where Hale had gone. Grant swore as he Gauss Rifle clicked on empty. He reloaded, and took a big risk in doing so. He had no other choice, though. His Gamma Rifle was pretty much useless against Ghouls, and no way was he gonna fight his way through with a combat knife or his bare hands. He was fine throughout the whole reload process, and was able to continue fighting through the mass of ghoul bodies.
Suddenly, Corporal Harker's short-wave buzzed up with a distress call, which really caught Fielding's attention. "Harker! Get local and co-ords on that camp!" He barked. The corp quickly obliged, adjusting dials and flicking switches quickly and fluidically before requesting the specified information. The guy knew exactly what he was doing when it came to tech. He reminded Fielding of Rico. God rest your soul, buddy. He was lifted from his thoughts when a response came from the radio, and soon enough Fielding was barking orders to get to a Vertibird - which is exactly what the squad did, after packing up their gear and leaving the ship's hold, heading to the deck of the Freighter.
Once the squad was all packed and the Vertibird was taking off, Fielding addressed the sender of the distress call over his own radio. "This is Captain Carl Fielding of the 37th Armored Infantry, I am enroute to your location with a heavy weapons squad. Hang in there."
"Thank god and the American Dream someone answered" Adrian said, he fired a shot at a feral who almost tore a mans heart out, these ghouls weren't like the regular ferals, it was almost like they knew how to fight and not play on instinct "These uglys are pretty much tearing us apart, I hope you mak-" He is interupted by a non feral ghoul wih an Auto Axe (all the Way from the Pitt BTW) swinging it at Adrian and almost cutting his head off
"God damn it they got pretty tough ghouls" HE said ducking the swings and firing a shot from a pistiol he has, he prefer sniping but right now he can't be a sniper
A distress call came in over fluffy's raidio.A member of the enclave was in truble and it was his duty to help him."This is enclave combat drone Fluffy of the 33rd drone regiment we are moving in suport".In a fluid movement the drones and robots moved towards the distress site.
Hale, still in an active Stealth Field, slammed anonther Feral into the wall over and over until its neck snapped. He ducked around another Ghoul, and plunged his elbow into its chest, cracking its sternum. As it fell, it wheezed and gargled on the ground, until Hale's stamp cut it off abruptly and brutally. Hale deactivated his Stealth Field and looked back at Cross and the Ranger, Sutherland. There was a Feral with a machete bearing down on the Ranger, but Hale managed to intercept by sliding through the irradiated effluent along the bottom of the pipes and kickin its legs out from under it. As it fell flat on its face, Hale rolled and brought his heel down on the back of its neck, killing it instantly.
"We gonna get the hell outta here or what?" Hale roared as he began clearing a path with a well placed blast from his freshly drawn sawn-off shotgun.
Paladin Nightengale moved cautiously through the lobby of the building. His AER11 raised in case of any surprises. Directly behind him Knight Jenesarik walked with his flamer, flanked by two other Knights for cover. Then the rest. One of his Knights, crouched by the window, his Missile Launcher scanning the streets. Another Knight with a Minigun moved behind him to take shelter in a closet. He was looking for anything suspicious. Everything looked above board. Looks could be decieving though, and Nightengale, with years of experience in Manhatten, knew what happened to unfortunate Brothers who thought they were safe. No sooner had he thought that then a shot rang out.
Nightengale hit the floor as the shot struck Jenesarik's fuel tank, first igniting, then exploding, and finally immolating the unfortunate Knight. The two flanking him faired little better, the first Knight was killed instantly, a piece of flaming shrapnel slicing through his throat. The other writhed on the floor, attempting to extinguish the flames that were fast sending him to Jenesarik's fate. Nightengale rushed to his aid, grabbing a fire extingiusher and spraying him down and putting the flames out. Shots ricocheted around him as he dragged the wounded man to cover behind a decorative stone area of the lobby. Nightengale injected him with a stimpak before laying down some fire and rushing to the rest of his men. He sent a trooper back to take care of the wounded man as his squad came under more fire from the other end of the lobby. "Dispatch, dispatch," he said into his comm unit, "we have a contact, I repeat we have a contact. Previous locale, we have three men down. Engaging the enemy."
Adrian was worried, a lot of men died thanks to these ghouls and he would most likly be doing the paperwork
"Damn you freaks of nature" HE shouted mowing down a group of ghouls with a fallen AK 47 a private dropped while dying
New York, lower Manhattan
Allies forces spread out and surrounded the entrants to Thermopylae. MoS squads of all numbers and make, running at top speed into firing position will the AWA roller into position heavy guns firing from their Behemoths. Hot lead and tracer markers flow everywhere, dirt was shot up as laser blasts and mini gun fire tore up the entrance.
MoS Paladins shouted commands to there teams many still have not reached their intended siege position. As the Allies tighten the noose around Thermopylae the AWA even set up a great Trebuchet war machine up the street from the entrance and behind the front lines. Behind the it tech of the AWA and scribes of the MoS began to set up computer equipment. A nearby building with its opening in font of the Trebuchet a forward command post was established. As more and more MoS and AWA dashed into the combat zone with supply and weapons, the Allies seemed to have succeeded in there initial encircling of the Crusader last bastion of power. But this was premature for before the MoS advance force arrived on site a small group of men was sent out off the base by Consult Chapel himself. Their destination, deep into the ruin dock district of Manhattan.
the Crusaders traveled deep into the ruins, traversing the dense urban wreck that had become of New York. Shortly after Reaching there destination and exploring the site the group discovered a group of large transport containers. What was odd about these particular containers was there condition. They had no definite sine of weather damage or wear from the nuclear war. “Open the crates” the leader of the crusader party ordered. Two men walked over to the first container and using the key that Consult Chapel gave them much earlier in the day open the doors. As the doors opened and the crusaders peered in they stop. After a few moments of silent observation by the men, one stood forward and asked “what are those thing?”
Just then Adrian felt a sting, a bullet went through his side and he fell to the ground, damn ghoul got him from behind and he felt his blood leave his body "Damn ghouls" Adrian thought as he closed his eyes to rest, he wasn't dead but he felt tired and weak, the cost of his fighting sapped his streanghtand silently prayed to god that the forces would come and rescue him and that the ghouls didn't check on his "body"
The Vertibird was nearing the camp the distress call had came from when the radio flared into life yet again. It sounded like a Sentry Bot, which identified itself as Fluffy - Chase's personal bodyguard. The General had a strange sense of humour. What made the statement weird was that it then went on to confirm that it was part of the 33rd Drone Regiment. "Since when did robots have regiments? Aren't they just auxillaries?" PFC Derby asked. Fielding only responded with a shrug. "Alright, we're approaching the hotzone now," The pilot announced. Fielding abruptly pushed himself into a standing position and maintained his footing by holding tightly onto the two railings above the rows of seats. "Alright, fill the muties with lead from up top. Hold the 'Nukes just yet. Perform three strafing runs before taking her down. What's our position and current altitude?" Fielding asked. "Uh... well, we're literally right next to the camp. Just on the outskirts. And we're around eighty feet up at the moment, sir."
"That's perfect." Fielding acknowledged, a grin spreading across his face as he took a step forwards. He'd been told that the Hellfire Power Armor could withstand this sort of stunt, once, as an off-handed remark. In truth, he'd always wanted to do something like this. "Alright. The right hatch. Pop it." He said, nodded to himself. "What?" The pilot asked, looking over his shoulder briefly with an incredulous look on his face. Fielding sighed and repeated himself more eloquently and imperatively. "Open the right-hand side door to the Vertibird and continue with your orders, son." The pilot shrugged and flicked a switch. On cue, one of the doors opened, blasting Fielding and the rest of the Bird's contents with a gust of wind. Regardless, Fielding forced himself towards it. Taking the briefest look downwards, he offered a thumbs-up to the rest of the troops before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the Vertibird while it was in motion.
I've always wanted to do this.
The fall, and the feeling of the wind, would have been quite peaceful if he wasn't encased in armour and it wasn't too ridiculously fast for comfort. Unconsciously adjusting the position of his legs to properly brace himself for the oncoming impact, he was mildly surprised to find that there was a Feral Ghoul in his path to cushion his fall. He landed on it heavily, killing it instantly but attracting the attention of its slobbering comrades. They probably weren't worth the 2mm rounds, so he pulled out his Enclave Combat Knife and got to work, seizing the first one that came at him effortlessly by the throat and stabbing the 8' blade into its crusting eyesocket before twisting it and pulling it free, allowing the body to twitch and convulse briefly before it fell. Another flailed at him, so he planted a kick squarely into its chest, hearing several ribs crack as he did so. But he didn't allow it to drop - no, he grabbed it by the chin and started smashing it against a nearby rock repeatedly until its weak skull (to put it poetically) flattened. "And that's why you should EAT YOUR VITAMIN FUCKING D, FREAK!" He yelled as he tossed the limp corpse at another Ghoul. He drew his sidearm and started blasting away at a few more. Plasma Pistol in one hand and knife in the other, Fielding wreaked havoc with the irradiated mutants.
The ghouls were mowed down by Fielding, if Adrian was a Missle Launcher, then Fielding was a Tank and a Half. In about 15 minutes the ghouls were either dead or have fled and fielding then looked around the area for any survivors when he Saw Adrian face down and moaning "ohhhhhh mman....help...." Adrian Moaned he was bleeding and he needed medical attenrtion he hoped that someone with flip him over and notice that he was living. He heard the battle, it was scary even for Adrian. He had found someone to honor and respect, someone who he owes his life too, Carl Fielding
Grant was firing sporadically into the group of ghouls when Major Hale suddenly appeared out of nowhere, dealing death to the ghouls around him. Hale barked an order to move, and Grant immediately complied. Increasing fire, Grant began clearing the way. "Sir yes sir!" he barked. He advance, blowing a hole in a ghoul's head here, stabbing one in the stomach there, breaking ribs, clocking heads, and generally ruining their shit, big time. After he shot through a ghoul's collarbone, he shouted, "Let's move it people, I love a parade! Ha ha ha! Take this, zombie freaks!" The way cleared as the ghouls fled, either for good or to get reinforcements. "We're good!" he yelled. "Let's go, go, go!"
Fluffy and the bots surounding him moved into posistion behind the fleeing ghouls."Combat protocol active".With a wirr the drones guns flared up to tear a squad sized hole in the remaining ghouls."Take that mutant slime"fluffy cried in his flat dull voice.Running the images of the enclave soljers through his databanks fluffy identified the highest ranking officer and moved towards a major hale."Major i am fluffy bodyguard to general ibram chase".Sudenly fluffys voice changed to be a miror image of the generals."Major its me chase fluffy and the drones with him have been ordered to obay your commands and act as a view point for me in the field." Again the voice changed back to fluffys "I await your orders sir"
Adrian moaned he hoped to atract help
"Please....someone....help me....." He moaned he wasn't sure if he would make it. He started to bargin to God, he promised that he would donate caps to Charitty when this is over. He hen decided that a Tennage wouldn't curl up and die so he mustered all his streangth and got up
"Hey...." He moaned as blood left his mouth, the fact that he is standing is proof of his will and strength but alas he fell to the groud and passed out, the good knews was that he was able to attract some attention
As the siege of Thermopylae continued to drag on into a bloody stalemate of Alliance fire and skirmishes into crusader defence walls the heavy gun teams and fire squads within the ruined buildings had finally settled into position and opened fire. The encircling on the Crusaders was done and secured. The Ally skirmishes polled back into the perimeter of the siege line. As the gunfire settled for a moment a AWA fire team sat in a fire story ruin slightly behind the main force. The building around Thermopylae were mostly destroyed or heavily mined to deny the Crusaders enemies a vantage points encircling the base. However the Advance AWA and MoS strike teams were very successful in disarming the traps and now where sitting comfortably overlooking the seized home of the crusaders. A knight hands one of his Sentinels’ a beer as they take a quick brake while the fighting dies down. The group was one of several Allied fire teams outfitted as supporting fire squads. They were well stocked and supplied and even has a small fire going to cook. In these ruins wrestled from the Crusade, the Allies felt supreme and safe. The Dark hallways and ruined corridors did not threaten them at all. But as talk and sounds of curriers sending relaying orders filed the front of the buildings, shadows moved silently and gracefully through the darkness. As the AWA squad relaxed more and more safe in the knowledge that the Enemy was trapped like rats within their hole, the ominace figure moved closer and closer to the lights of the Fire support squads. With the focus on the surveying the no man land and crusader wall many of the AWA team did not notest a low hum coming from the back. One Sentinel on brake, got up from his meal and picket up his rifle. As he walked slowly to the back hallway he picked up a lantern to search the dark corridors and ruins infrastructure of his teams area. As he walked deeper into the hallway the sound seems to disappear and reappear sporadically and then vanished. He turned and walked back to his team have expecting to be ambushed by some horrible monstrosity that the advance teams forgot to deal with. As he entered his room that his team was stationed. The Knight looked up and asked “needed to take a shit?”. the Sentinel replied “I thought I heard some thing must h..”. The Sentinels body exploded in a bloody mist, the remains of his lower left body falling to the ground. As the ceiling explodes downward the remaining AWA squad were slow to react. A high hum was hidden in the combined mist of concrete and human remains. the AWA soldiers scramble to shift their weapons to the disturbing scene. The Knight raised his laser rifle to the sound as he backed away from the explosion only to be shot in the head. As he feel to the ground his squad brought up the heavy weapons to the intruder. As the Knight fit the ground a creature of metal shot out from the mist to cut one of the AWA soldiers in half. As one of the last Sentinel span up his minigun as he pointed at the creature. The Creature quickly crawled up the wall and jumped past the mist and disappearing into the darkness. The AWA prepared the enter room. Destroying much of the wall and making Swiss cheese of the floor. As he ran out of ammo he slowly looked around the room.
The Allied skirmishes sat in there dugouts preparing for there next push into the walls when A small explosion behind them caught their attention. The initial blast located on the fifth floor of building acting as one of the many fire support points against the Crusaders base was followed by sounds of crushing concrete and small gunfire and them a flashing lights of a full clip of a minigun directed inwards to the same building. That seemed to be then end of it. As the building settle the Allied forces on the ground looked up to the floor in confusion. This com was broken again as a the same floor window was blow away, as a two chunks of metal flow through the air. The two pieces both landing past the skirmishes in front of the building. As the Allied soldiers closest to the one of the pieces poked their head out into the no man land to survey the chunk of metal. To the horror of many of the soldiers this was no mere chunk of metal, for encased in it was a upper half of a human torso branding a minigun pack.
As the group moved into a large open chamber, clogged with rubble and vehicles when a bomb blasted through the road surface and collapsed it, Hale signalled for the humans, "organics" as the drones called them, to move around to the left, while the drones moved right, and along a ruined bus in the centre of the area. Better than calling them meatsacks or something Hale supposed. He led the humans a long, Fluffy, Chase's drone, that man had one fucked-up sense of humor, the thing was carrying some serious firepower, moving along by his side, transferring commands to the other drones and informing Chase of how the patrols went.
Movement ahead. Not the smooth movement of humans, nor the jerking, twitchy movements of Ferals. Hale shivvered as he imagined power armored soldiers striding out of the wrecked tunnels, opening fire with miniguns and gatling lasers, shredding the men and drones alike. Hale almost smiled as a large troupe of Mirelurks ambled out of the buildings, snapping their claws menacingly.
"Holy Mother of Jesus! What the fuck was that?" One of the Rangers howled as a Bedlurker lurched out from under him. The poor kid had leaned on the thing when Hale had called for a break.
Fuck, that was my fault! Hale thought to himself.
Hale's smile at the sight of mere Mirelurks faded as he saw more and more lurching out from the buildings. This wasn't right. They were too far from the breeding grounds marked on their maps. Were they? Shit, they had to be. But nonetheless, they were staring down a veritable colony.
"What the fuck are you all waiting for? An invitation?" Hale bellowed as he gunned down a Mirelurk King at the head of the macabre regiment with his FN FAL. Hollow-point rounds tore through its flimsy hide, sending it tumbling to the ground. But the other 'Lurks just kept coming. They were met with a hail of lead as they rushed at the soldiers, but for every one that fell, another two moved to take its place. Until Hale ordered Fluffy's drone regiment to move in on the flank. Caught between the hammer of the drones and the anvil of the attack force, the Mirelurk charge began to falter. Until another group of Kings emerged with what looked like a parody bodyguard force of Mirelurk Hunters surrounding them.
Mendoza ducked as the defenders began taking fire from above the walls of Thermopylae, with lasers and bullets entering various altitudes at different targets, be it the Crusade, AWA, MoS, or the other factions trying get in on the combat. He shouted to the other commanding officer on the west wall. "Gibson, you need to direct mortar support on those buildings, or we're going to be like fish in a barrel being shot from above!!!" Mendoza roared, ordering his own subordinates to continue to fight off the invaders struggling to get closer. Priming a frag grenade, Mendoza made the universal hand motion for his platoons to do the same. Looking towards the buildings opposite the wall, he let loose with his hand, launching the grenade like a rocket. It exploded in mid-air; however, it was directly in front of the ruined windows of the buildings. The volley of frags from the men sent shrapnel everywhere, tearing up the attackers. The success was short-lived, however, when something massive trundled in view. A Behemoth. Mendoza barely had time to turn around as the massive artillery piece fired, hammering masses of firepower into the wall and sending power armored Airborne flying. Flying off the wall and onto the ground, Mendoza felt pain hit him from all sides. Worse, when he looked up, a portion of the wall, about three yards wide, had gave way. "Hurry up, plug the gap!" Mendoza said, struggling to his feet and drawing his Paulsen from his side. "Show the fuckers your double A's!" Mendoza said, slamming a fist against the stylized AA symbol on his power armored chest. Motioning for the .30 cal teams to move up, Mendoza was the first to the breach, meeting at the same with an AWA Paladin. Not bothering to learn his name, Mendoza pushed the barrel through the gap as the AWA Paladin charged, and fired all three barrels at once, taking off his power armored helmet and head, blood spewing everywhere. Morally correct freak.
Building all around the siege perimeter quickly turned into a shooting gallery with scared shitless soldiers shoots at any shadow that didn’t seem right to them. As the Fire support line that made up the buildings along the perimeter lit up with activity once more, more and more squads were engaged by creature, no one knowing what they were till it was to late. After 30 minutes and 12 dead soldiers in a building close to the forward command centre the officers on side became wearied. As fire support line broke down, the allied goals switched from skirmishing with the crusaders to re-establishing a secure siege line. As elite kill squad moved slowly through the buildings another fire support team was hound dead. As the team moved in, an eerily silent befell the room. The Paladin leading the kill team quickly signalled to form ranks.
As the majority of the Allied forces sat in their dug outs and fox holes waiting for the battle with the crusade to recommence, a flash and then a plum of smoke erupted from the one of the buildings behind them. From the ruins of the second floor, two MoS soldiers staggered of the smoke both bloodied and broken. One knight upon running out of the behind a Paladin in very ruff state tripped and fell off the ruined slab that they made their escape from down to the ground were he remained motionless. The Paladin ran to the best of his abilities of stumbling and falling a few time. He had multiple wounds and cuts through out his power armour. As he moved further away from the building add began to approach the Allied positions for help a massive metal beast leaped out from the building from were he escaped to land upon the paladin instantly braking his back with a loud crunch. The creator snapped its head to face the groups of Allied soldiers in the front lines. The Allies open fire, preparing the area with bullets and laser blasts. The creator jumped elegantly toward cover and then clawing up to a ruined building before dispersing into the darkest once again. A old MoS scribe on scene repairing weapons and siege equipment as this all went down was amassed. As he continued to look at the Brocken corpse of his comrade he managed to bark out “My God! They have a Cerberus Bot…”
"Contact, contact," Nightengale shouted again into his comm. Nobody was responding. The Knight to the left let a missile fly that detonated in an old storefront up ahead in the lobby where some of the fire was coming from. Nightengale had caught a glimpse of the attackers ahead and had confirmed that it was a force of the Northeast Enclave, though he couldn't tell how many there were or their exact location. Nightengale cringed as another of his Knights was hit in the chest by a plasma blast. He fired off a bunch of shots from his AER11. Another glance ahead and he could see Enclave soldiers pushing back into the other side of the lobby. They were going to have to abandon this position. Nightnegale's squad was unsupported and down to four active and one wounded man. That would leave two active men and himself to fight in the retreat. He guessed about 30 Enclave soldiers ahead. Not good. "Paladin Nightengale," one of his men called, "Sir, we have to pull back!" Just as that Knight yelled, he was approached by the Knight he'd sent to the wounded man, who scrambled next to him. "Ehret's dead," he said, "here's his tags." Nightengale nodded. He knew he had to preserve his remaining men, which was now in shambles anyway. "Pull back!" he ordered aloud to his men. "Dispatch, this is Paladin Nightengale. We've encountered heavy resistance at 43, 43. Pulling back to Rally Point Echo, do you copy?" Nothing. He grabbed the tags of the dead Knight next to him as Knight Commodore layed down covering fire with his minigun from the closet behind them. Nightengale jumped to his feet and ran, followed by his squad.
Nightengale examined the four sets of tags as he listened to the growing far off sounds of fire and explosions in the distance. He'd lost four men in that encounter. Jenesarik, Picco, Ehret, and Rawlins. All for nothing. His group was moving at a fast pace through the ruins. He wasn't sure if the Enclave had mounted pursuit or not. He needed to get back into Manhatten Order territory. He needed to get there fast. In all, he'd lost seven men under his command in the last day. He wondered how he'd explain these losses to command.
Slamming into two ghouls attempting to rush the breach foolishly, Mendoza noted their GPA lettering on their wasteland clothes, then crushed their aspirations with renewed vigor. "Fags." Mendoza said, laughing at the pair whose heads he had just smashed together and made a slushie with. Picking up one of the corpses, Mendoza pulled the heads apart, threw up the corpse with the strength from his power armor, and used his Paulsen like a bat. It didn't work, but it boosted morale from high to higher. Mendoza was able to yell this time as the Behemoth fired again. The round slammed into a firing position on the wall this time, destroying the pillbox from which a 30 cal. had been firing from. Rock and metal flew everywhere, and the gap widened. Mendoza pulled Sergeant Findley aside. "We need to blow up that damned artillery, Findley! Find me a BCR-4, and get back here double-time!" Mendoza shouted. Findley complied, then sprinted off, his power armor clunking about. BCR-4s were rare, since they were captured Enclave tech, but Mendoza knew there was at least one some where on the firing line.