Instead of writing [censored], I suggest inventing new, setting-specific swear words. Like the way Skyrim has 'milk-drinker'. Like Radsucker, or ghouman.

FACT sounds interesting. A lot like the Star Forge from Kotor 1.

Mariah really has a lot of passion.

The Brotherhood's arrival sounds like a golden opportunity for Mariah to make her getaway.

And it was! Now Mariah is back to Lone Wandering.

While I am going to include some regional swear words and slurs (I've only incorporated a couple slang words so far), regular swear words are a normal part of Fallout as we have seen from the games. Granted, I don't want to just constantly write "[censored]" all the time and it gets a bit...I don't know...cringy, I guess? Maybe I will include the first letter followed by a bunch of dashes. But yes, I'll have some setting-specific slurs and such.



And now for something completely different.

I'm still writing Chapter 6. I have a synopsis planned for all of the Panhandle storyline, but this point I should've fleshed out more, so it is taking a bit longer. But to build up the world some more, here is the (preliminary) soundtrack for Fallout: Florida. A few songs are slightly out of that 1950s-and-earlier sound typical of Fallout, but that isn't unprecedented in this series and I think they fit well with the setting. I also simply just wanted some new songs for the series, although there are few familiar ones here. I had to go looking for some music more evocative of Florida and Florida-born musicians, so I learned a bit more about my state's history myself.

The Cyrkle – “Red Rubber Ball”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gd-DJJfdyLg

Skeeter Davis – “The End of the World”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHa6a3FtPJg

Louis Armstrong – “What a Wonderful World”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63H0EgTcWFY

The Lovin’ Spoonful – “Summer in the City”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7ofnHmxE-I

The Ink Spots – “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmIwm5RElRs

Ben E. King – “Stand By Me”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vkUeWTBH1Kg

Bill Withers – “Ain’t No Sunshine”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YuKfiH0Scao

Gene Kelly – “Singin’ in the Rain”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZer-HMhiFI (Perfect for radiation hurricanes.)

Patsy Cline – “Crazy”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DXWCaQPXE_0

Nina Simone – “Feeling Good”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNMKGYiJpvg

Mel Tillis – “The Violet and a Rose”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4K-QXud1tt0

Fats Navarro – “Bouncing With Bud”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szpVBjPpX8o (A Jazz musician, Fats was born all the way back in 1923 in Key West, FL, with a merging of Cuban, African, and Chinese ancestry [or at least he may have been]. Sadly, he had a drug addiction he couldn't kick and his health issues were then compounded by a tuberculosis diagnosis. He died in 1950, a few months shy of 27 years old. Kind of even crazier to think about considering that I just turned 27.NPR story about him here. Another biography here.)

Fats Navarro – “Avalon”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8p_DBjohw0

Cannonball Adderley – “What’s New?”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-7isGsg6Fs (Real name Julian Edwin Adderley, he was born in Tampa, Florida in 1928. He was a high school band director in Florida before he moved to New York for a time. He was also in a quintet with his younger brother, Nat. He unfortunately died from a sudden stroke in 1975.)AllMusic biography here. Encyclopedia Britannica biography here.)

Cannonball Adderley – “Straight No Chaser”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOnQZ3J2H9c

Thelonious Monk – “Bye-Ya”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVkPWUsFIe0 (I was reading something about him and his connection to Florida, but now I can't find what it is.)

Slim Whitman – “Roll On Silvery Moon”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0LzP67bI7BU (His real name was Ottis Dewey Whitman, Jr. Born in Oak Park, FL in 1923, the legendary country music singer was far more popular in the UK and throughout Europe than in his native U.S., at least toward the beginning of his career. He was a Florida guy through-and-through, living in Orange Park for a long time. He died there in 2013 at the ripe old age of 90. The Guardian article here. Wikipedia article here.)

Gabriel Brown – “I Am Just Hard Luck”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1GFwojYjxo (This blues singer may be the oldest musician on this list, being born in 1910 in possibly Gadsden County. It is not known for sure. Wikipedia article here.)

Frank Sinatra – “Come Fly With Me”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmQq6yLe2ww (Miami might have been one of the tropical locales that inspired Sinatra to write this song. Apparently, Sinatra was very fond of Miami Beach.)


To be honest, I'm personally not a fan of all of these songs, but I think they go well with the setting in some way.

Skeeter Davis' End of the World is a lot different from the REM song.

Keep in mind that in prose, you do not have to write the exact words people are saying. You can be vague but still plain about things like slurs. I ran into this while writing the neo-Nazis in the Stormcrow fic. Wherever I could I used direct quotes from RL white supremacists, because I wanted it to be genuine. I did not want to put words in their mouth, but use their own. I quickly ran into a brick wall however, because I lot of those words are just not fit to print. So instead I wrote a mix of things like this:

Lol, that’s good. I like that!

@SubRosa - I see what you mean. I'll go that route whenever it is appropriate and I can reasonably work it in.




And finally, we are on to Chapter 6.

Chapter 6: The Plot Thickens

It did not take long for Mariah to dispatch the raiders. They were caught off-guard by her energy weapon. Their attempts to flee at the sight of lasers was in vain as each of them fell. A couple of them even burned up into piles of ash. The merchants came out of hiding upon seeing that the raiders were slain. All of them and their Brahmin survived. When they came to meet Mariah, one of them practically prostrated at her feet out of a mix of exhaustion and praise.

“Whew, I thought we were goners. Thank you, ma’am,” one of the merchants hugged Mariah.

“I hate raiders. I kill them every chance I get.” Mariah said matter-of-factly.

“I’m glad you’re on our side,” the same merchant responded. “Anyway, we appreciate the help. What brings you to our town of Niceville?”

Mariah could not think of where to begin and she didn’t want to spill too much info. “A bunch of reasons, but mostly I’ve been looking for some sort of real civilization for the past day or so. I need to find GCU personnel in town. Do you know where I can find some? It’s very important.”

“For you, sure! You saved our lives after all. Follow us into town and we can give you a basic lay of the land.”



While Niceville was an important part of the trade routes in the Panhandle, the town itself was somewhat small. Although Pensacola was not a huge Pre-War city, it was considerably bigger than Niceville. And despite the decades that had passed, you could still feel a little bit of the small-town vibe Niceville emanated from the Old World. It was still early in the afternoon, but the town seemed to be rather sleepy.

The merchants directed Mariah to the town’s GCU station. She walked to the front desk of the building in a hurry and spoke in an urgent tone to the officer sitting there. The officer could not even get a greeting in before Mariah started talking quickly. “Please, I need to see whoever is in charge here. Who runs the show here? I need to know now.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, miss.” The officer put his hands up as if to stop her. “You look tired and distraught, but I need you to stay calm. Commander Darius is in charge in these parts, but I cannot just get him out here because one citizen says they need to see him. What’s the problem?”

“You don’t understand! It’s about the Dissidents and the Brotherhood! It’s urgent and I need to make contact with the GCU back in Pensacola. I came from that direction and…”

“Ma’am, please slow down.” The officer tried to speak in a reassuring but firm tone. “Why don’t you get some water and sit down? Now, I need you to . . .”

“There is no time, officer!” Mariah slammed her hands down on the desk. “Please!”

The officer was unsure of what to do next. “Ma’am, you need to stay calm. I, look, we can’t have you making a scene here, but there is protocol to follow and . . .”

A more authoritative voice spoke up from behind. “It’s alright, son. I’ll take it from here.” The voice said son not in a familial way but more like a mentor. Out walked a well-built, six-and-a-half-foot or so man, bigger than even Jacob or Bertrand were. Mariah was taken aback initially at how imposing his figure was. The man patted the officer on the shoulder and turned his attention to Mariah. “Hello, young lady. I’m Commander Darius. I head this area’s GCU outfit. I heard you mention the Dissidents and the Brotherhood. What’s going on?”

Mariah was looking for the next words to say. “. . . I’m Mariah. Is there someplace private we can talk about this? I’ll explain later.”

Darius raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “I suppose so. Follow me.”

They walked into a room where it was just the two of them and another GCU officer. Darius introduced this other man to Mariah as Jordan, his second-in-command. The three of them sat down at a metal table in a room away from eavesdropping ears. Darius spoke first. “Now, Mariah, normally I would not just bring in any wastelander or civilian or anyone that is non-GCU. Anyone can claim they have something that we need to check into. But it’s not everyday that someone barges in and says they have information on our two biggest enemies in the Panhandle, and something about you tells me you’re serious. Well, let’s hear it.”

Mariah recounted everything relevant since she tailed the GCU to the ostensibly deserted town of Holt: All the things that Russell told her, about the F.A.C.T., the Brotherhood breaking into the Dissidents’ stronghold, and so on. Darius soaked in all she had to say. After a long moment of silence, he spoke again. “So, you were the civilian who tailed our forces. I heard about you.” Mariah nodded, her face slightly reddening from embarrassment. “And you know about the technology, then. Yes, it’s true that we sought out the F.A.C.T. But we honestly don’t have it, and you say the Dissidents think we have it and that the Brotherhood thinks that the Dissidents have it. Something doesn’t add up . . .”

“What’s that?” Mariah asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“If we don’t have it, the Dissidents don’t have it, and the Brotherhood doesn’t have it, then who the hell does? As far as I know, we are the only three organizations that are actively seeking it. If another group has it, you’d think they would have used it by now and we would know.”

“Couldn’t it have been destroyed in Birmingham?”

Darius shook his head. “We found no trace of it after we pushed out the Dissidents and Brotherhood. Someone must have snuck in and took it, but I have no damn clue who it could be. The F.A.C.T. needs a powerful supercomputer and power source to operate, which I seriously doubt anyone else is going to find a way to access. Maybe that’s why we haven’t found any trace of it—whoever has it has not had the opportunity to put it to use.”

“What about raiders?” Mariah asked.

“I don’t think so. They’re generally too stupid to know what this kind of technology is or how to get a hold of it, and none were in the Birmingham area at the time. Hmm . . .”

As Darius sat there pondering, Mariah steered the subject in a slightly different direction. “Can you tell me what exactly happened in Birmingham? I’ve heard several different answers and I honestly am not sure what to make of all of it.”

Darius had already been looking down at the table, but it seemed that a hint of perhaps guilt could be seen in his face. About ten seconds had passed before he answered. “I was there. It . . . wasn’t the GCU’s finest hour. A lot of innocents were caught in the crossfire. But we did NOT murder anyone,” Darius said and pointed his index finger out with emphasis. “I wouldn’t put it past the Dissidents to use their own people as human shields, and the Brotherhood doesn’t seem to care about ‘collateral damage’ as long as they get their hands on whatever technology they can hoard. We had it on good authority that the Dissidents would’ve used whatever they could to invade southern Alabama—where GCU territory is not in dispute. We had to stop them. We had to get the F.A.C.T.” Darius sat silently for a moment before forcefully pounding the table. “Those b------- can’t get over the fact that their own country wanted to join forces with other states for unity, trade, and protection. They’re still hung up on Pre-War bitterness when it’s long been over.”

“You mean the whole thing about Florida’s government wanting to go its own way and Mississippi’s and Louisiana’s following suit?” Mariah finally spoke up again.

“Yes, exactly. Many in the old Gulf Commonwealth thought that they were going to stick together and stand up against the federal government. Make their own nation. But much of Florida’s delegation surprised everyone by wanting to be completely independent of everyone else. The Dissidents think that the GCU is basically a redux of the old commonwealth, where we, Florida, will abandon everyone else when it suits us. They see Mississippi and Louisiana in much the same way. I’m sure Alabama’s government would’ve or did do the same, but the Dissidents wouldn’t ever admit anything was wrong with them. But that is long in the past. The GCU is not the Gulf Commonwealth.”

Learning more and more about Florida—at least the Panhandle—its major players, and conflicts helped to make Mariah feel like much less of a stranger in the Sunshine Wasteland. It was a big step she took to even come to these parts that were completely foreign to her, but it certainly wasn’t the first time in her life that she had gone somewhere totally new. Something about Florida, however, made her feel like she could actually stick around for a long time, unlike her previous stops. Perhaps it was that purpose that the New Lifer, Jonah, had talked about, or maybe it was her emotional investment in the Panhandle after the Dissidents attacked her caravan. Possibly both.

“So, what about the Brotherhood?” Mariah asked. “What do they want the F.A.C.T. for? I heard they came out from further west. How would they even know about this technology?”

“Well,” Darius said with a heavy sigh, “They’re a very secretive organization, but we do know a few things about them. They’ve been around for a while, though we don’t know how long. And from other people’s few interactions with them—along with my own—their main mission is to round up Pre-War technology to keep it out of the hands of ‘outsiders.’ To what end, I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s not good for the GCU.”

While the situation was dire, Mariah couldn’t help but be somewhat fascinated not only with what she was learning but with how on top of things Darius was. Even though it was part of his job to be in the know, he seemed to be particularly adept at accumulating intel. “Something tells me you know a lot of this from your own personal interactions instead of just from other sources.”

Darius nodded. “Besides the Birmingham incident, yes, I’ve had to deal with the Brotherhood and the Dissidents on multiple occasions. And regardless of how that battle at the Fusion! plant went, we’ll most certainly be hearing from both groups again. No way did either of them have their full forces there. Those two names you mentioned—Russell and Obadiah—I know them. Quite well, in fact.”

“Really? What else can you tell me about them?”

Darius scoffed just thinking about them. “Both of them were in Birmingham but we’ve known about both of them for even longer. Russell has been a troublemaker for a very long time. Like he told you, he was born before the War. He’s been one of the loudest opposition voices ever since the Alabama Compact joined to form the GCU. Any violence related to that he has probably had at least some involvement in, even if indirectly. Given his experience and dedication to the Dissidents’ cause, it makes sense that he is leading their charge in Florida. Make no mistake: He’s a crazy son of a b---- but he is an excellent combatant, even as an old fart.”

“And this Obadiah? I haven’t even interacted with him.”

“We don’t know what particularly drives him beyond his loyalty to the Brotherhood. I personally think Obadiah has more to his agenda than that. But what we do know is he is far from the first leader of the Brotherhood. Maybe this is how the Brotherhood has always been or maybe just under him. I can’t say. Like I said, the Brotherhood hasn’t made it easy to get info on them.”

Mariah’s mind went back to her friends in Pensacola. “So, if you’re GCU, are you able to make contact with personnel in Pensacola? I need to tell them what I learned. Let them know I’m alright. You must know Commander Bertrand, right? Do you also know Jacob and Valentina? Did Bertrand and Jacob make it out of Holt?”

Darius nodded. “I know Bertrand and Jacob quite well. They are the counterparts to Jordan and I. This Valentina doesn’t sound familiar though. And yes, Bertrand and Jacob are okay. But since you have been in captivity and have been trying to find civilization, you probably didn’t hear.”

“Hear what?”

“Bertrand has been suspended indefinitely from his duties for the botched attack on the Dissidents. Higher-ups made the decision. Bertrand and I lead our respective areas for the most part, but there are higher-ranking officials that oversee the whole Panhandle, the whole of Florida, and the whole of the GCU. The Panhandle overseers heard word about the incident quickly, so they are putting Bertrand on leave while they investigate.”

Mariah shot up out of her chair. “But it’s not the Commander’s fault! The Dissidents knew they were coming! Something tipped them off!”

Darius just shrugged. “Look, it’s not my decision. But I know Bertrand well. He would not have rushed soldiers into combat like that if he had any sense that something was glaringly wrong with the operation. But how did the Dissidents know? In any case, let’s contact our mutual friends in Pensacola.” Darius took a radio in the room and started tuning it into the necessary frequency. GCU had had to make repairs to communication lines that were destroyed in the wake of the Great War. He got Jacob and Valentina on the other end, the latter at Mariah’s request. Jacob apparently was placed in charge in the interim while Bertrand was suspended. “Jacob, it’s Commander Darius. I got some news from a friend of yours. She’ll explain.”

Without even letting a pause enter the conversation, Mariah spoke. “Jacob, Val, it’s Mariah. I know what the Dissidents and the Brotherhood are . . .”

“Mariah?” Jacob said, shocked. “Holy s---, you’re alive! We couldn’t find you after what happened in Holt. I’m happy to hear from you, but what the hell were you thinking coming there?”

“We thought you were dead, Mariah! You could’ve easily gotten yourself killed!” Valentina exclaimed. She was hurt that Mariah would leave without telling her what she had planned.

Mariah felt some guilt at leaving Valentina in the dark. “I’m sorry, Val. Jacob. But can we talk about this later? I know what our enemies are up to. The Dissidents captured me and I was told by their Captain what they were planning.” Mariah recounted all that had transpired for her to Jacob and Valentina, as well as what she and Darius discussed.

After a long pause, Jacob breathed a heavy sigh. There seemed to be a lot of sighs from everyone lately. “Damn it. Of course that’s what they are here for. We thought one of them might have the F.A.C.T. for some time, but it became clear after dealing with them for long after Birmingham that neither of them had it. Russell and Obadiah—damn the fact that they are still around—would’ve found a way to use it if either of them had it, I think. Or maybe they had been having trouble finding a sufficient power source like you said, Commander Darius. Did Russell tell you anything else, Mariah?”

Sifting through her memories, Mariah thought about one thing she had left out. “When I asked him how he knew the GCU was coming, he said something about how he had eyes and ears everywhere and in unexpected places. . .” She trailed off. That’s when it clicked for her. “Jacob, I think there is a mole in your department.”

After muttering several more expletives under his breath, Jacob said, “You’re right. That’s the only way they could’ve known. But how? We vet our officers thoroughly. Any sympathy for the Dissidents should’ve been rooted out. And Gerald has no means of contacting them in his cell—yes, we still have him cooped up in there. I don’t know how I am going to go about figuring out who is a traitor, but I’ll come up with something. Going to also petition the powers-that-be to reinstate Commander Bertrand now that we have all this new information. We need his leadership.” He stopped for a moment, then added, “Thank you for all the help, Mariah. But please, do not put yourself in that position again. We were really worried about you.”

“Yeah,” was all that Valentina could add.

“I . . . I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better. For both of you.” Mariah said, dejected.

Darius ended the communication. He threw his hands up in the air. “Well, now we’ve got to figure out where we go from here. But that’s not your job, Mariah. Go get some rest. See what Niceville has to offer. And thank you again, we’ll keep in touch.”

“Thank you,” Mariah said.

“Wait,” Darius said right when Mariah was about to exit the room. She turned around to hear what he had to say. “Make sure you think about what Jacob said at the end there. It’s clear just from that call that he and Val care a lot about you. From what I understand, you seem to be someone who rushes into danger, often recklessly. It’s all well and good to be brave and standing up for others, but you need to think more carefully. It doesn’t just affect you. It affects your loved ones and it can have unintended negative consequences for them if you unthinkingly rush into the face of peril. That doesn’t mean always playing it safe, but it does mean you make better calculations about danger. Do you understand?”

Mariah knew he was right. She just couldn’t find the words to say in response. Instead, she simply nodded and closed the door behind her.

Thanks to Covid, early afternoon is definitely sleeping time for me!

I must admit that I like the complex political situation you have developed in the Panhandle. It provides a lot of angles, and a lot of sources of conflict to drive the plot.

^
Same. (Well, except for early afternoon being sleepy time, lol)

These are really fun reads!

I wonder who has the F.A.C.T!

[censored], I have fallen behind. Wow, Mariah is really fiery, bold, and maybe even insolent! She's getting right into her captor's face.



I think I know one of them. That odd guy she met in the outdoor market is an example. I forget his name. The guy who seemed sort of peculiar.

F.A.C.T. sounds like a bunch of bull. Maybe they're all fighting over something which doesn't really exist. You can't make somethings substantial out of nothing.



So he WAS targeting that caravan Val's father was on. I agree with Mariah then. That was no recon mission, it was "shoot to kill, ask questions later" more likely. Still though. I understand her anger but damn, she's gonna get herself r4ped or killed if she doesn't tone it down.

Ha I like the Fallout 4 danger music, that's perfect! She is lucky at that moment as BoS shows up. And now she has a lazer rifle, good for her.

I finish the next chapter in due time. Must head back to work.

I figure it’s probably the same technology that is utilized by the vending machines in the Sierra Madre casino from the New Vegas dlc “Dead Money”.

Basically the replicators from Star Trek. They rearrange existing atoms into new elements, and build what you want from there on up. All it requires is the total control of matter.

Lol, yeah, you know, that’s all it requires. No sweat.

It just needs some SCIENCE!

Totally!

@SubRosa - Thank you. I personally almost always find it more interesting when there are 3+ factions involved in a political struggle instead of just 2. Of course, throwing in factions for the sake of it is detrimental, so I thought hard about how to make it work with 3 groups here. BUT...there may be another minor group or two that plays an important role too...

@Khajiit - Much appreciated. I'm having fun writing them whenever I get the chance to.

@Renee - Hopefully you were able to finish the chapter, because things are ramping up even more now.




This chapter turned out to be longer than I expected, but it worked out, I think. I try to find the right balance of enough exposition to explain things while still leaving things up to the reader to piece together and imagine. Don't want to be confusing but I also don't want to handhold when readers are capable of figuring some things out on their own.

I also wanted to be true to the Fallout-style in another way: While things can get bleak and dark, there are touches of self-awareness and silliness to the setting. Hopefully I am succeeding on that front as well.

And look out for some subtle references to game mechanics incorporated as a normal part of the story. I did a few times in previous chapters and I've got at least a couple more in here.

Chapter 7: An Unexpected Turn

Well, what now?

Mariah couldn’t stand the idea of just waiting for Darius to contact her. Who knew how long it would be until there was a development in the search for the F.A.C.T.? Even though there wasn’t much she could do, it felt like a waste of time to not do something about it. Mariah decided the only thing she could do, however, was take Darius’s advice and check out the rest of the town.

[Jerry Keller – Here Comes Summer]

Niceville was a rather sleepy settlement, especially compared to Pensacola. People could be seen walking about the street, but for the most part it was rather quiet. Remnants of the Old World could still often be seen. In one case, Mariah saw a poster for what appeared to be a local utility company—Panhandle Gas, Electric, and Nuclear, or PGEN for short—being bought out by the giant Poseidon Energy corporation. Mariah had become familiar with Poseidon over the course of her travels with its various ruins dotting the landscape, so it was a name she knew well. Poseidon, like a bunch of other Pre-War nationwide companies, also tried to establish a foothold in Florida, attempting to buy out local and state utility companies—PGEN being one of them. Judging by what she had been learning about the Pre-War strife between Florida’s state government and the federal government in particular, Mariah figured that many Floridians weren’t happy about Poseidon also wanting a piece of their pie.

There were also advertisements for enlisting in both the U.S. military forces and the Florida National Guard, another juxtaposition of the state vs. federal schism. Another sign for that Cooler Heads technology was barely legible on a brick wall of the one of most rundown buildings in the area. Posters for Pre-War local and state-level political candidates were also heavily faded.

As Mariah kept going south, the Choctawhatchee Bay came into clearer focus. The bay was the body of water sitting between the land where settlements like Niceville and the strip of land with the ruins of the small towns of Destin and Miramar Beach. On the other side of that strip of land was the Gulf of Mexico, a key part of the economic engine of the Gulf Commonwealth. She would have kept heading toward the bay, but yet another sign caught her eye. This time it was for something that was made Post-War, a place called the All-Faiths Center on a street called Valparaiso Boulevard. Curious, Mariah followed the directions to it. Years of erosion had wiped out the original font on the street signs in Niceville, but newer white paint had been applied to them to keep these old road names alive. Mariah had been going down what used to be Palm Boulevard. It intersected with this Valparaiso, and Mariah turned to her left to follow it to this All-Faiths Center.

When she reached the Center, it was quite an impressive sight—not so much from an aesthetic standpoint, but at the fact that it really did have a lot of different religions represented. It wasn’t a singular building, but rather a bunch of buildings side-by-side with various houses of worship. There was a Christian church, an Islamic mosque, a Jewish synagogue, a Buddhist monastery, a Hindu temple, and even a Sikh gurdwara, among several other types of religious places. The fact that a relatively small town could even have enough people to sufficiently represent these faiths—and that there would even be so many different faiths with at least one adherent—side-by-side was remarkable. It was rare to see such tight coexistence in the Pre-War world amongst groups that often had tense relations with each other, and that probably was still the case in the Post-War world to some extent. But at least in the small town of Niceville, these factions were able to come together harmoniously through the shared hardship of living after the nukes. Mariah thought it was a shame that such coexistence was exceedingly rare amongst diverging groups throughout the wastes.

Mariah noticed some of the names of the buildings upon closer inspection. On the Christian church was an inscription for the Abbey of the Road—which sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she could not be sure. Even if it was a familiar name, there was no way to know for sure if it was the same Abbey. None of the other religious building names rang any bells—except for one that had a trademark emblem of a sun shining down on several buildings. Beyond that, it didn’t have any distinguishing features like the other houses of worship.

It was another establishment for the Temple of New Life.

A young man who seemed to barely be 20 years old stood at the door for this particular Temple, looking a bit forlorn as if nobody had come to the Temple all day. He looked up to notice Mariah looking toward the building and his eyes lit up. “Hey! Over here!” He called out jovially, waving his right arm to be noticed. Partially out of a sense of pity for the young man being alone and partially because she was curious to hear more about the place, Mariah walked toward him. She didn’t have that brochure that Jonah gave her back in Pensacola anymore. Mariah couldn’t quite place why exactly this Temple intrigued her. It’s not like she was looking to join. Maybe it was just her curiosity about the unknown and mysterious.

“Hi there,” Mariah greeted him.

The young man blushed at being noticed by Mariah. While she had picked up a lot of dirt and sweat over the past couple of days, her natural beauty could still be seen. “Hey, um . . . nice to meet you. Sorry, I get nervous talking to pretty women—er, people in general. Heh. My name is, uh . . . Bryson. Yeah, that’s it.”

Mariah found the young man’s awkwardness sort of charming. “I’m Mariah. Nice to meet you. You’re part of the Temple of New Life, I presume?”

“I sure am!” Bryson said with childlike enthusiasm. “You’ve heard of us before?”

“Oh, only once. When I was in Pensacola, I met a man named Jonah. He called himself a . . . Speaker, was it?”

An audible gasp escaped Bryson’s mouth. “No way! You met the Emeritus himself?”

Mariah cocked her head to the side in puzzlement. “Emeritus? I thought he called himself a Speaker or something?”

“Oh, well, he is, heh. But he’s also just being humble. He is a Speaker, someone who basically just goes about preaching our faith to others. But he’s also the Emeritus, which is sort of like the head honcho of Speakers, I guess. He has more duties than that, though. But that’s amazing you got to meet Jonah!”

“You have quite the high opinion of Jonah. He did seem pretty nice, if a bit mysterious. Have you met him?”

“I sure have. I hope I can be just like him one day.” Bryson struck a heroic pose with his fists on his hips. “Man of conviction. Helping people. Being such a good speaker, too. He has a way with words the likes of which I’ve never seen—er, heard, I guess. Jonah’s the one that introduced me to the Temple, in fact. Said he saw something in me and asked if I wanted to help grow the Temple here in Niceville.”

“So, you’ve lived here for a while then?”

“Yep. Lived here my whole life. But it’s been . . . pretty hard,” Bryson said, his youthful exuberance toning down. “My dad died years ago and my mom has been addicted to chems ever since. Particularly Jet. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. Almost fell in with the raiders near town, but I . . . I didn’t want to hurt people. And they do chems all the time. I’ve seen what it has done to my mom. And I don’t want to leave her because I want to help her. She hasn’t been the same since my dad died. Then Jonah found me. He talked to me about my purpose in life and how I just hadn’t tapped into it yet. Said he could also help my mom. And she has seemed to have gotten better, even if she isn’t back to her old self yet. I don’t know what Jonah did, but it seems to have worked.” Bryson’s bright personality beamed again. “That’s when I knew I found my place here at the Temple. I’m still young and inexperienced, but I’m trying!” He pumped his arm in a can-do fashion.

Mariah couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his cheerfulness. “You’ve got quite an enthusiastic personality. That’s got to help a lot in the wasteland. Have you gotten many people into the Temple today?”

“No,” Bryson shrugged. “But that’s okay. It’s a process. That’s another thing Jonah taught me. Life’s all about processes. And a lot of people appear to already belong to one of the other places of worship here. And that’s okay too! We’re supposed to live in harmony with others. Were you . . . uh . . . hoping to join?” Bryson started blushing again.

“Oh, no, I’m just curious about this Temple, that’s all,” Mariah clarified, shaking her hands in front of her with the palms facing outward. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the Temple!” She quickly added when she saw Bryson’s expression turned sad. “Just like to . . . know all of what’s going on around here.”

“I understand,” Bryson said, regaining his smile. “It’s a big step. I was afraid at first, too. I was involved in one of the other places of worship here before, but with everything with my mom and dad, it just felt . . . I don’t know . . . pointless. But hey, sadness has brought people to those other faiths too, so I’m not trying to say anything bad about them. The Temple seemed to be the perfect fit for me, though. It’s great that all these faiths sit side-by-side with each other. The Temple preaches coexistence.”

Mariah raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Well, that can’t be all that the Temple is about.”

“Oh, of course not! But the coexistence thing is pretty important. And not just with other human beings. We also must respect nature and technology. But there is a common thread among all of them. Go on, take a guess at what that is!” Bryson started to play the part of a Pre-War game show host.

Mariah simply shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“They need a guide!” Bryson shouted enthusiastically. “Nature makes the world run, but it can be pretty hostile to people, especially with all the radiation and mutations. Technology is capable of great things, but it can easily be abused. And people have practically unlimited ingenuity and innovation, but they can easily become selfish and deliberately hurt people. So we teach that we need to see all the good that people and nature and technology can do but recognize their limitations. There needs to be a guide for it all to work harmoniously.”

“And I suppose that’s where your god comes in?”

“Well . . .” Bryson trailed off. “He’s not exactly a god in the way that Christians or Muslims or Jews or Hindus or whoever talk about. He’s a spiritual guide that is one of us. He’s just become enlightened and strives to make peace wherever he can. How we can ‘renew’ ourselves, be part of something greater.”

“And who is he?” Mariah asked, masking her skepticism. Not that she was persuadable in favor of Temple beliefs in the first place, but it was starting to sound a bit . . . goofy? Vague? Generic? She couldn’t really think of the word or words she was looking for.

“We call him The Redeemer. He has several other titles, too, like The High Guide, but we mostly call him The Redeemer. I haven’t met him yet because he lives way further down south in Florida. There is a city called Eden there. But that would basically be the Holy Grail of sorts, to meet The Redeemer. I hope I can one day.” Bryson stopped for a moment to daydream about that potential encounter. “But Jonah said the Temple needs me here to bring people into the fold. Which is fine. I’m still sort of scared to leave for a brand-new place. And I can still help my mom here.”

Despite her skepticism and how hokey it sounded to her, Mariah couldn’t help but be intrigued by this Redeemer and the city of Eden. It was interesting that the Temple chose to name the city ostensibly after the Garden of Eden from the Bible even though the Temple was a completely different faith. Then again, the concept of Eden was one that spanned throughout a lot of societies and outside of the Christian faith. It seemed this was a case of the latter. “I bet. I’ve travelled a lot, but the first few times I had to go somewhere new I was scared too. The unknown can be intimidating. Well, if you are sticking around here, have you had much success bringing people to the Temple?”

“Not a whole lot,” Bryson said, pursing his lips. “But there have been a few people and there were a few adherents that came here already, so it’s not like I’m totally alone, luckily. It’s a small town, though, so we also try to reach people outside of town. People like the Apalachee.”

“The Apalachee?” Mariah wasn’t sure if she had heard of them before.

“Yeah, a Native American tribe from way to the west. No one knows where exactly they came from or why they came here to the Panhandle but you hear all sorts of theories. The other religions in town have tried to reach out to them too, but . . . well . . .” Bryson trailed off.

Mariah leaned in waiting for an answer. “Well, what?”

A flash of trepidation was visible on Bryson’s face. “Raiders. Go figure, right? Well, there is one particular gang of raiders called the Bullsharks. Sounds a little bit wannabe edgy to me, but whatever. Anyway, they have made it tough to go preach outside town. The Temple and the other faiths have had people kidnapped by them, so the town council doesn’t let anybody in or out of Niceville without proper clearance.”

Mariah figured that those raiders she wasted just before coming into Niceville must have belonged to these Bullsharks. “They sound nasty. But what about the Apalachee? What more can you tell me about them?”

Bryson shrugged. “Not much more, unfortunately. They have been very reluctant to contact any civilized areas. No offense to them, I mean! The most anyone I know of that has interacted with them is through trade, and even that is rare. They aren’t hostile, just reclusive. They’ve probably had some issues with the Bullsharks too.”

Mariah once again pondered what he had to say. If the Apalachee came from further west, is there something they would know that could help against the Brotherhood or the Dissidents? Both of those organizations came from the west as well, so perhaps the Apalachee knew something about them. At this point, it didn’t seem like the GCU was going to get any new information on the F.A.C.T. on its own. Mariah wasn’t about to sit on her hands and wait for word from Darius. It may have been a longshot, but Mariah determined the next course of action was to find these Apalachee. “I really appreciate all the help, Bryson. But before I go, where are the Apalachee?”

“Well, no one knows exactly for sure. They seem to be pretty mobile and they only have a few of their people make themselves available for outside contact, so wherever they are living isn’t known. But last I heard, someone had done a little bit of trading with them to the southeast. Wait. You’re not going to look for them, are you?”

Mariah wasn’t sure how to answer his question, so she didn’t give him a straightforward response. “Why do you ask?”

“Those Bullsharks, remember? You can’t go by yourself! They’ll kidnap you or do something even worse to you! I don’t want anything to happen to you because of something I told you.” Bryson was pleading with her at this point. “PLEASE don’t go.”

Mariah found his concern very cute. “You’re a sweetheart, Bryson. But I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.” She showed him her laser rifle, 10MM, and sword. “I’ll be extra careful. For you.”

“You—you will?” Bryson’s cheeks turned their reddest yet. He seemed to have been prone to blushing and he was enamored with Mariah. “Er, of course! You can take care of yourself. I don’t want to be overbearing or anything. Just watch yourself out there, alright? And uh . . . thanks for talking to me. I know I probably talked a lot.” He scratched the back of his head. “It gets lonely out here sometimes.”

“Of course. It was nice talking to you, too.” Mariah gave him a big, bright smile and started walking away. “I hope your, uh, preaching goes well,” she said, turning around to him while walking backward briefly.

“Thanks.” Bryson sighed, sitting back down at the Temple’s doorstep.



Despite the town council ordinance on people coming in or out of the town, Mariah had no trouble leaving its limits. She crossed a bridge heading southeast across a body of water called the Rocky Bayou. There were some ruins in the distance. Most of the buildings were leveled or barely had any structure left standing, but some old businesses were still standing. Mariah didn’t notice any signs of life, save for some overgrown brush. But she knew better than to let her guard down. With a cocked laser rifle in her hands, along with her 10MM and Gabriel’s sword at the ready, she pressed on.

As she came closer to the ruins off the main road, Mariah’s mind went back to Bryson’s warning about the Bullsharks, which then went back to Commander Darius’s advice on rushing into danger. For a moment, she thought that maybe she was pressing her luck too much this time. Her determination, stubbornness, and burning hatred for raiders ultimately won out, but Mariah was starting to learn about assessing the dangers of certain situations better. She couldn’t help but think about Jacob and Valentina and how worried they were about Mariah’s well-being. Especially Valentina. Mariah vowed that she would find a way to make it up to her if she got to see her again. But she wasn’t going to turn back around.

What the hell am I even doing? Mariah thought. She was so focused on trying to make some sort of progress on her investigation that she didn’t really think about just how little information she had to go by. Bryson only knew that some traders contacted them to the southeast, but not how far in that direction. And now that she thought about it, would the Apalachee really use dilapidated ruins as their base? From how reclusive they sounded, they probably resided somewhere far off the metaphorical and literal beaten path. How would she find them? This was still new territory to Mariah. She had a lot of guesswork ahead of her and she didn’t exactly know where civilization ended and ruins—or nature—began.

[Fallout 3 Soundtrack: Forgotten]

In fact, this seemed more like somewhere that the Bullsharks would hole up . . .

Suddenly, Mariah heard gunshots ring out. She took cover behind a wall, peeking around the corner to look in the direction of the noises. She saw four people, two males and two females, dressed in raider garb. They must have been Bullsharks. Mongrel dogs were attacking them, but the raiders were able to put them down with ease. One of the male Bullsharks picked up some sort of bulky object that they had dropped but Mariah couldn’t make out what it was from where she was positioned. Almost spontaneously, the raiders started laughing amongst themselves and they stepped into a small warehouse. Constantly checking her surroundings to see if any other Bullsharks were coming, she crouched down and walked quietly to another entrance of the warehouse. When she got inside, she stayed hidden behind some crates while trying to get closer to see what they were doing.

“It’s a good day to be a Bullshark, ain’t that right, boy and girls?” One of the male raiders cockily asked in a rhetorical manner, placing the bulky object down on a table. “Those tribals didn’t even see what was coming.”

“I was just hoping we could take more of them. A handful wasn’t enough to sate Delilah’s bloodlust here,” one of the female raiders piped up and tapped her gun. Apparently, that was what she named Delilah.

“You know, you naming your gun normally would get a big ‘yikes’ from me,” the other male raider said. “But ah, what the hell? With this score, name your gun whatever you want.”

“I love killin’, but you know what I love more? Those fat stacks of caps coming our way,” the second female raider said with a cackle.

“Which reminds me: I been thinkin’,” the first male raider said, grabbing everyone’s attention but particularly the second female raider’s. “With the cash coming our way, I been thinking you and I could finally put this life behind us. Get a farmstead, start a family, raise some livestock. Just peace and quiet and put this all behind us.” After a moment of silence, all of the raiders started laughing again. “Who am I kidding? I can keep this up forever if it means more caps and more body counts! But tell you what, baby, I got something for you that’s better than caps coming your way tonight.” The male raider and the raider who was apparently his girlfriend were about to get a little frisky.

“Alright, save that for the bedroom,” the first female raider said, putting up her hand as if to stop them. “Let’s get this job officially done first. Then you two can go for your romp when you’re alone.” She turned to the other male raider. “And then you and I, Johnny…” she did an obscene gesture with her hands.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Johnny blurted out, but cleared his throat and regained composure. “But you’re right, doll. Let’s get this Facial-something-or-other to our employer.”

“Geez, Johnny, you can’t be THAT bad at reading. The word was ‘fabrication.’ I know the big-boy words are tough for you, but come on,” the other male raider said, playfully punching Johnny’s arm.

“Whatever, I’ll just buy reading lessons or somethin’ with our soon-to-be payout. Reading done nothing for me anyhow. The hell does this thing do?” Johnny asked.

“Don’t ask me. All I know is we’re getting paid to get it. I don’t care if this thing will nuke half of Florida. I see and hear caps, you get my attention. These words on the side mean absolutely nothing to me.” The unnamed male raider turned the object around to display its name.

Fabrication Accelerator for Combat Technology. The F.A.C.T.

How in the world did the F.A.C.T. get here? How did the raiders manage to get a hold of it? And who did the raiders get it from? And better yet, who was paying them to get it? Conspiring with raiders wasn’t the Dissidents’ or the Brotherhood’s M.O. given how xenophobic they both are.

Mariah felt like one of those protagonists in a story that took a convenient, arguably contrived turn, given how she happened across the F.A.C.T. When Mariah read the technology’s name, she let out an audible gasp. Upon realizing she did so, she covered her mouth and tried to stay completely out-of-sight.

But it was too late. The female raider with her gun Delilah was alerted by Mariah’s sound. “What the f--- was that?”

“S---, thought I was the only one who heard it. Sounds like we got company,” the unnamed male raider said, readying his assault rifle. He then yelled in Mariah’s direction. “Hey! We know you’re there! Quit playing games and come out! If you come out now, I may even be feeling a little generous and I’ll let you go if you pay up with all your caps and loot.”

As gently as she could, Mariah stayed crouched and tried to move farther away while staying in stealth. No way was she going to trust anything a raider said. She hoped she get the drop on them while they still focused on her original hiding spot.

[Fallout 3 Soundtrack: Never Surrender]

“Can’t hide forever. Come out and play!” Johnny’s girlfriend taunted, tossing a smoke grenade at Mariah’s previous position. As soon as it went off, Mariah popped out from her new cover and fired her laser rifle in their direction. She could only get a couple shots off in their direction but they missed—the raiders reacted quickly and took cover of their own.

“Can’t wait to count out your caps!” Johnny shouted, reloading his hunting rifle. “You’ll be so much easier to rob when you’re dead!” The raiders and Mariah traded some more shots, but nobody was going down. And Mariah was running low on ammo for her laser rifle. Even though she still had her 10MM, she wanted to save it if she could. No telling whether she’d need it to get out of there. There could have been other raiders nearby, for all she knew.

With no end in sight, Mariah tried to formulate another plan. As she surveyed her surroundings while still trying to be concealed, she noticed that there was a flammable canister right near the cover of one of the female Bullsharks. As that raider reloaded her weapon, Mariah quickly blew up the canister with a laser rifle shot. The impact sent the raider sailing out of her hiding spot, seriously wounding her. And with that window of opportunity, Mariah shot that raider dead.

The sight of his girlfriend being snuffed out enraged the raider named Johnny. “You wasted my girl! No! You’re gonna f---ing pay for that!” The raider tried to rush Mariah’s position in a blind frenzy.

“Johnny, no! Stay covered!” The other male raider pleaded. But it was too late for him. Mariah quickly popped above cover and shot him in the head while he tried to pepper her barrier’s sides with bullets.

In addition to bullets, the living female raider hurled every profanity and slur in the book toward Mariah’s direction. She finally capped it off with, “Your head’s gonna look real good as a mantelpiece, little girl. You ain’t the first I’ve killed, and you won’t be the last.”

Mariah needed to think of a new tactic fast. Her cover was getting broken apart by the sheer number of bullets pelting it. She looked around in her vicinity for something, anything, to give her an edge. A red, wooden crate that looked unlike the others around her was just a few feet out of her reach, out in the open where the raiders could shoot her if she tried to grab it. Mariah found a long piece of broken wood and was able to position it so that she could get the crate. Sure enough, her hunch was right: Inside the box was a grenade. She had seen similar crates elsewhere in her travels that also had ammo, explosives, and even firearms. It seemed that such containers had a knack for being in a convenient spot.

Mariah didn’t have that good of an aim with explosives, but she had no choice. She tossed the grenade underhanded toward the living female raider to better aim it and, hopefully, not make it obvious like an overhanded throw until it was too late. Perhaps Luck was on Mariah’s side, because it was perfect placement of the explosive and the raiders had not popped out of cover to see it. When the raider saw the grenade, there was no time for her to react. The explosion riddled her with shrapnel, forcefully sending back her corpse toward her boyfriend raider. “Mary!” The raider yelled. He was distraught and crying, touching her as if there was some desperate attempt he could make at reviving her. Now it was his turn to level insults, expletives, and incredibly offensive terms at Mariah. “When I’m done with you, your body will be unrecognizable!” It was amazing how murderous scumbags like raiders had the gall to be offended when somebody gave them a taste of their own medicine.

Grabbing his dead girlfriend’s submachine gun, he incessantly fired at Mariah’s position. He broke down enough of Mariah’s cover so that a bullet got through and caught her right arm. With a yelp, Mariah involuntarily tossed the gun and grabbed her arm where she had been shot. The searing pain, while not a mortal wound, was more intense than perhaps any other physical pains she had experienced before.

“Ha! Got you now, b----!” The living raider shouted, much more so out of anger than out of triumph. His girlfriend and his other two buddies were laying on the ground lifeless, making his seeming victory hollow. Even raiders could have feelings. “Never should have come here. And I’ll make sure you regret it for the last few moments of your life.” He started walking over towards Mariah with his hunting rifle, ready to fire at her should she try something sneaky. “Could’ve just walked way, but nooooo, you just had to play hero. Well, hero, your story ends here,” he said with sarcastic emphasis.

But just as the raider was almost in position to get a clean shot at Mariah, they both heard a loud, guttural noise coming from behind him. The raider and Mariah could see the fear on each other’s faces as they slowly turned in the direction of the noise. It was the unmistakable sound of a Radfrog—and a very hungry one at that. Ribbit, bellowed the frog. It may have sounded funny if Radfrog noises were being recited in a story, but when it came to being face-to-face with the monster, it was anything but that.

The raider fumbled with his rifle as the Radfrog moved towards him. The shaking of his hands caused him to miss the creature. It lashed its long tongue out at him before he could get another shot off, flooring him and knocking his gun to the ground. He desperately reached for his submachine gun but the Radfrog came charging at him, violently discharging liquid poison from its skin. The raider’s bloodcurdling screams were cut short as the monster bit into him.

Mariah was frozen in fear as the monster feasted on the raider. He may have gotten what was coming to him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pity—more so terror—at the way he went out. The pain from her arm subsided enough that she could reach for her laser rifle, though the panic also helped overpower the hurt. She stood up to steady her aim and unloaded an entire clip into the Radfrog, wincing in pain with every shot. Mariah seriously regretted not buying some Stimpaks before leaving Niceville.

The Radfrog, however, resisted the energy damage. While it was hurt, it wasn’t down for the count. At that moment, Mariah remembered hearing previously about how certain creatures could more easily shrug off certain types of damage. She specifically recalled hearing how Radfrogs were more susceptible to regular ballistics but more resilient against energy weapons. Sure would’ve been nice if she remembered that before, she thought. As she tried to reach for her 10MM, the Radfrog turned its attention to Mariah and flicked its tongue out at her. The wind was knocked out of her as she flew backward and hit the cold, hard floor. Her gun landed away from her, out of reach.

The Radfrog started barreling toward Mariah, hoping to make a meal out of her just like it did with the raider. Despite her panicking, fumbling hands, she was able to unsheathe her sword. As it stood just above her ready to chow down, Mariah thrusted the blade through its mouth and into its brain. The creature cried out in agony, and she pulled out the blade again to cut its throat. She rolled out from under the creature before it collapsed on top of her. Her mind flashed back to the battle in Holt where a Radfrog tried to kill her as well, but the fear she felt this time eclipsed her previous encounter.

Panting, Mariah gingerly and slowly picked herself up off the floor. She retrieved her guns and shuffled over to the F.A.C.T., clutching her stomach. The technology stayed right where the raiders put it. “Is this . . . just some box?” Mariah muttered out of a mixture of exhaustion and confusion. Examining the box some more revealed latches to open the contraption up, but Mariah figured it was better to leave those alone. “Just got to . . . pick this up . . .” The tech was very lightweight despite its bulk. She paused and started coughing up a bit of blood as she was trying to exit the warehouse. At first, she figured it was just due to her injuries, but a closer look at the blood show a bit of green liquid. “Oh no . . . Radfrogs . . . their tongues are poisoned.” A chill went up her spine as she recounted more of her Radfrog biology lessons. Desperately, she stumbled around at the boxes around her in the hopes of finding some antidote or any other healing agent, but there was nothing there. The monster must have gotten in a really good shot, because the poison was acting quickly. Gently letting go of the F.A.C.T., she slowly slumped to the floor.

Is this really the end? Mariah wondered. This was supposed to be the part where big moments in your life replayed in your mind, before you drew your last breath—or so she heard. She thought about some of her travels prior to Florida. About her settlement being attacked and her family and friends being slaughtered when she was young. About Bertrand, Valentina, and Jacob. About Darius. About Bryson. She was resigned to the belief that she would never see them again. Darius was right: She needed to be better about assessing danger. But it looked to her that this miscalculation was fatal. “I’m sorry . . . everyone . . .”

After several more minutes of labored breathing, Mariah’s eyes were fluttering as she frantically tried to keep them open. It was no use. She thought she heard footsteps but she could not tell if they were real. Her head hung down as she drifted into unconsciousness—and possibly toward her death.

I keep thinking that Darius is the King of Kings of Persia...

Nice background info on the Posiedon takeover of PGEN. It builds more on the whole Pre and Post War attitudes and feelings of Florida.

No Church of the Atom? I suppose the New Life Church will have to do. It always makes me think of the Universal Brotherhood from Shadowrun.

Sounds like these New Life Speakers would make for great spies.

Oh, the Redeemer is an actual, real person? Straight into cult territory now. I'll pass on the grape Flavor Aid, thank you.

I like giving names to Raider bands, like the Bullsharks. That was one thing I liked about New Vegas, they had names like the Jackals, etc... Instead of being just generic Raiders.

That Facial something sounds like just what Mariah is looking for. I wonder who is paying the Raiders to steal it?

Whoa, that Radfrog is nasty!

Uh oh, Mariah's been poisoned!

Man I love Raiders. They’re kinda like the Sith in Star Wars. They’re so incredibly stupid but for some reason I just find them really fun! Maybe it’s because they tap into that very small part of me that would love to just say “[censored] it all.” and go start a bandit clan, lol.

Rader, I really enjoyed the fight with the Raiders, Rader ( ). Also that Radtoad is so delightfully repulsive! I really do feel like it would be terrifying to come across one of those, and I think it fits perfectly in the Fallout universe’s bestiary. As a matter of fact, I’d be disappointed if a future game set somewhere in the south didn’t have them as creatures in it.

I say it's somebody not connected to Bertrand. Could be a janitor, for all we know...

Yes, there are some moments of Fallout humor here and there. I've found myself chuckling occasionally, at the descriptions of Fusion! for instance. It seems the FDA was decommissioned at some point in the Fallout-sidetracked universe! ... PGEN also just made me laugh out loud. These folks have no idea of the negative reputation nuclear energy has generated in our own reality. And I suspect those in the Fallout universe also had all of our meltdowns...

I can't help but picture her like Mariah Carey, albeit frequently sweaty, unwashed, and grim-faced.

I also enjoy Mariah's impatience and fire. Everyone keeps telling her to chill, do NOT get involved. She is nobody--the GCU will handle everything without her input. All of this keeps getting ignored. She reminds me of Carrie in that HBO show Homeland, although without any of Carrie's mental issues.

I like Bryson. His antics must be fun to write up. I picture him with a Gomer Pyle sort of accent, almost.

What?? A small gang of lowlife Raiders got the F.A.C.T.? HOw?? They're making all these other more organized groups look bad...

Well hopefully those footsteps belong to somebody who isn't nefarious.

Have you seen Fallout? I don't think they have janitors. They just leave the skeletons from 200 years ago laying around!

Yeah, good point, ha ha!

@SubRosa - While I am trying not to get too bogged down with having every single minute detail compatible with the existing lore, having the Church of Atom here would be quite unfriendly to Fallout canon. They don't appear until the 23rd century in Megaton. I'm trying to build something entirely new that I think will fit well with the setting. I also don't want to be too reliant on organizations that already exist in lore. (Although, perhaps you may have noticed a reference to the Abbey of the Road. More on that later in the story...)

I, too, enjoy when raiders are not so generic. Even if there isn't that much backstory to them, at least give them some distinction. I think Bethesda improved a bit on this with the Nuka-World DLC for Fallout 4.

@Khajiit - Fallout 76 actually has their own version of a Radtoad, though it is far different than my conception of the Radfrog/Radtoad. But yeah, I hope future Fallouts get even more creative and expand more with mutated wildlife. As much as I like seeing updated versions of old enemies, it gets kind of stale and goofy to have the same creatures repeatedly pop up all over the place (looking at you, Deathclaws).

@Renee - Well, if Mariah listened, there wouldn't be much of a story, now would there? But this is a personality trait that is going to be a key theme for her throughout the whole work. How does she develop in this regard? Where do you draw the line between being observing and obeying orders or advice, and going with your instinct or what you believe is right? And so on. Stay tuned.



Fresh off the presses is the next installment of Fallout: Florida! (Maybe I shouldn't post this yet since I'm rather tired, but I think this is good enough.)

Chapter 8: Foreshadowing

Mariah’s mind started playing tricks on her, blurring the line between reality and delusion. Was it just because of the poison? She wasn’t sure if she was even still alive and crazy visions were simply what happened upon death. Several strange scenes that felt so real played out in front of her. Mariah wasn’t simply an observer either—it seemed that she was a direct participant in whatever was going on.

The first vision that played out looked to be the ruins of some sort of Pre-War office. There were several silhouettes of people standing next to her and an angry ghoul in a tattered suit and tie in front of them. The ghoul seemed to have a serious grudge against Mariah and whoever the shadows were supposed to be. He forcefully pointed a finger towards them and simply yelled, “He sent you, didn’t he?!” Whatever this was about, Mariah wasn’t able to find out as a flash appeared in front of her and a new vision played out.

The next scene that played out was just as perplexing and had even less context. Mariah found herself in the ruins of what appeared to be a Pre-War university. Suddenly, a giant, mutant alligator approached her—walking on two legs just like a human! To make it even more bewildering, the gator bared his teeth and spoke in English. “Humanity’s penance is at hand. Nature shall repay it by wiping its stain from the Earth.” Just as suddenly as the last event she witnessed, the vision concluded in a bright light.

The third and fourth episodes played out even more quickly. Mariah found herself standing in an old parking lot, with a centuries-old fort to her left and the surrounding ruins of a major town around her. Amazingly, the fort looked to still be intact. In front of her, a man stood facing a river that separated a couple different parts of the city. He was clad in some sort of long-outdated outfit that Mariah did not recognize. The man simply uttered, “So you came.” After another flash, Mariah looked up at a large, Pre-War scientific complex with a ruined space shuttle off to the side. She recognized that it was a space shuttle from reading some Pre-War books about the Space Age. But what was this place she was looking at? What were any of these places she had seen?

And finally, one last experience played out. Buildings in a swampy area were all around Mariah. A couple of enormous, unrecognizable creatures stood towering above her. It was almost as if they were some amalgamation of several animals—they stood on two hind legs, their bodies covered in scales, long and sharp claws and teeth, and fins around their faces. It was perhaps the most unsettling, freakiest site that Mariah had ever laid eyes upon. But just as soon as she got a good look at the monstrosities, everything went black.



Mariah woke up in a cold sweat with a loud gasp. Her heart was racing from all the absurdities she had just witnessed in her mind. When she finally regained her bearings, she looked around to find herself inside a tent, sitting on a cot. Mariah then looked at her arm where the raider shot her. It was bandaged and the pain she was feeling had dissipated, save for some soreness. Much of the grime that had been accumulating on her body the past few days looked like it had been cleaned off. She smelled a lot better too. And she wasn’t feeling any more ill effects from poison. Those footsteps she heard when she was slipping into unconsciousness must have been real and were from an ally—or at least somebody that wasn’t an enemy. But who?

Gingerly, Mariah swung her legs over so that she was sitting upright on her cot, her body still feeling stiff from laying in the same spot for so long. How much time had elapsed since she passed out wasn’t clear, but it was dark outside. A moment later, a man came through the tent’s door flaps. Judging by his complexion and attire, he appeared to be a Native American. A large, white feather adorned his headband that he wore. “You return to wakefulness.” The man stated.

Mariah looked back to her bandaged arm again in disbelief. She couldn’t believe the recovery she made. “You saved me,” she responded.

“No, child,” the man simply shook his head. Mariah wanted to gently admonish him for calling her ‘child,’ but she did not have the strength. Not to mention the fact that he played a huge role in her still being alive. She let the comment go. “Your spirit is what saved you. I simply assisted it in realizing its own strength.”

“Uh, sure,” Mariah said with a slight dismissiveness. It was not meant to be a rude retort—just that it sounded a bit nonsensical to her. “What did you do to me? How long have I been out?”

“A natural concoction that my people developed. It flushed the toxins out from your system and helped speed up the healing process and overall strength. But we do not completely reject medicine from the outside world. We also received some Stimpaks through trading and administered one of those as well. You’ve been dreaming since before last night, and we cleaned you up a bit and kept your body nourished.”

“Thank you.” Mariah replied, surprised at the lengths a stranger would go to save her life, particularly one who seemed to be mostly isolated from the outside world. “But . . . why did you help me?”

“We found you in a warehouse just outside of one of the GCU’s towns. Those raiders you brought justice to—they attacked us. Stole something we had been keeping safe. You clearly were not in league with them given that they were obviously killed by you and you didn’t have their look. They also took the lives of several of my people.” The man was mostly stoic, but his recounting of several of his dead friends brought some sadness to his face.

“Your people? One of the raiders said something about stealing from ‘tribals,’ so I guess they were referring to you. Wait . . . are you one of the Apalachee?” The man simply nodded his head. “I was also hoping to find your people, actually. Somebody in Niceville told me a little about them, but there wasn’t much he could say. I wondered if you could help me with an . . . investigation, or sorts.”

The man kept his arms folded. “Are you with the GCU?”

“Well, sort of,” Mariah scratched the back of her head. “It’s kind of complicated. I’m not really working for them. More so against a couple of other organizations. And for myself, as a matter of fact. Turned out that you had some technology I was looking for.”

The Apalachee man stayed silent for a moment. He must have been deciding if there was anything further that he wanted to inform her of. Judging by his reaction, he was not trusting of the GCU or outsiders in general. He finally responded with, “You must know about this F.A.C.T. then.”

“Yeah,” Mariah said. “I heard that you came from out west, so even though it was a longshot I thought maybe you would know something about it. I know the Brotherhood came from roughly the same direction. And as it turns out, you did have the F.A.C.T. this whole time. But why? And how?”

“First, I must know why you are aware about the F.A.C.T., if you aren’t in league with anyone in particular,” the Apalachee man said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. Mariah thought it was a fair response, and so she gave him the basic rundown of her adventures thus far in the Florida Panhandle. The man’s stoic expression didn’t change. “So you escaped from the Dissidents’ clutches and avoided the Brotherhood. Impressive. Maybe it was you that I saw in my dream after all.” Mariah gave him a puzzled look, wondering what he meant by that last sentence. Before she could ask, the Apalachee man spoke again. “I am the chief of the Apalachee people here. In your native tongue, I am known as White-Feather.” He pointed to the large, white feather in his headband.

“I’m Mariah.”

“Is it good to meet you, Mariah. You must forgive my reluctance to open up too much to an outsider. It is necessary to protect my people. We cannot stay completely insulated, but there are others who are not keen on our presence in these lands. While you strike me as someone trustworthy, I must still be careful about what I say for my people’s sake.”

Mariah nodded. “I understand. I’m not quick to talk about certain things about myself to new people either.”

“Then perhaps you have some understanding about our situation. Good. I shall try to keep to only the important details of my people, the Apalachee.” Chief White-Feather cleared his throat. “Long ago—hundreds of years ago—our ancestors lived close to here, a bit further east. Outside interests forced us to relocate to what was Oklahoma. For . . . various reasons, after the Day of Conflagration, or what you would call the Great War, we sought to return to our ancestral homeland. With the collapse of societies and governments around the world, we believed this was the opportunity to come back. So began the Great Trek eastward. It has been a grueling, arduous journey, but we are close to the end of the road. But along the way, we encountered the peoples known as the Brotherhood of Steel and the Alabama Dissidents. Each even tried to earn our favor by proposing an alliance against the Gulf Coast Union, in which they would help us reclaim our ancestral lands in exchange for helping fight against the GCU.

“But it was clear to us the darkness of their spirits. Their hidden natures. We refused. We wanted to simply live on our own, free from any outside influence—something that has eluded us even after the Day of Conflagration. And as you can imagine, this did not sit well with either group. We learned that their mutual enmity, along with their rivalries with the GCU, were going to come to a head in the city known as Birmingham. So, we claimed this technology, this F.A.C.T., before any of them could, and attempted to make greater haste for our ancestral lands. We had no intention of using this device, but if it fell into the hands of the Dissidents, Brotherhood, or GCU, it would not bode well for us. Thus, we kept it hidden this whole time. That is all I can tell you in this regard.”

“But why not the GCU?” Mariah asked. “I have firsthand experience as to why the Dissidents and the Brotherhood shouldn’t have it. I’m not sure how much I care for the GCU itself, but I have friends in it, and it’s definitely the best option of the three.”

White-Feather’s expression did not change. “You must understand the experiences of my people. Outside governments have rarely had our welfare at heart. And the GCU made it clear that we were not welcome here—not just some of the citizens, but GCU officials as well. If they weren’t so caught up in fighting the Brotherhood or the Dissidents, or embroiled in conflicts farther away, they would not hesitate to stop us through force. We are a foreign entity, and as such we have aroused suspicion. We are fortunate that not everyone feels this way, but even then we must be wary toward those who are friendly toward us. Even if they do not wish us harm, they may unintentionally give away information about us that enemies would use against us. Even in your case, we must be cautious. Vigilance is what has protected my people, and I will protect my people until the very end of my days.”

“Well,” Mariah said, “I see your point. Is there some way I can earn more of your trust? Maybe we can work something out with the GCU. If you help them against the Dissidents and the Brotherhood, we can use that as leverage for some sort of treaty so that you can have your old homeland back.” A glimmer of hope was noticeable in her voice.

White-Feather pondered her proposal for a few moments. “I am still very doubtful about the GCU, but I have high hopes for you. Perhaps you could help us wipe out this raider problem we have been having. And with the threat they have been to the GCU in this area, that would give us greater clout for a treaty with the GCU. I don’t know how some of these raiders were privy to where some of our camps were, but we must end them before they imperil the rest of the Apalachee. I’m sure we are not the only ones that these raiders are giving trouble to. If you help us in this endeavor, I promise you we will consider helping the GCU.”

“Fantastic!” Mariah shot up with joy, wincing in discomfort. She was still a bit sore and stiff. “Oof. Shouldn’t have done that. Well, let’s come up with a plan. These raiders, they’re called the Bullsharks. I overheard the ones who stole the F.A.C.T. from you that someone hired them to get it, but not who. The Dissidents and the Brotherhood may have been willing to make a deal with you, but I can’t see them working with raiders. But who knows?” Mariah shrugged. “Maybe somebody else knows about the F.A.C.T., but I can’t imagine who. That’s all I know.”

“Then we must be alert for whoever else may be involved,” White-Feather said. “But for now, we know about these Bullsharks, where they are based, and who leads them. A man who goes by the name of Skull-Splitter. We must cut off the head of this snake, but it won’t end them for good. We must wholly eliminate them. Let’s introduce you to the rest of my warriors that are in this camp right now. It is not our full force, for I have ordered some to stay with our other camps to protect them and remain hidden.”

Mariah and Chief White-Feather exited the tent and met with the rest of the Apalachee contingent to discuss the further details of the plan. Several of the warriors also helped improve her skills in stealth, lockpicking, and hand-to-hand combat—three of the skills that many members of the tribe were particularly adept at. But for practicality’s sake, the warriors were not relegated to what would be considered primitive weaponry. They also knew how to use various firearms in addition to their preferred method of combat, melee. It was necessary for the survival of the tribe. But the beginning of their siege on the Bullsharks’ base would be heavy on sneaking and close-quarters combat.

With the plan in place, Mariah joined Chief White-Feather and the rest of the Apalachee Tribe to rain fury down on the Bullsharks—to end them once and for all.



[Fallout Soundtrack – Khans of New California]

Apart from a light breeze blowing that night and faint, intermittent sounds of wildlife, it was a quiet night. The Bullsharks’ base was far enough from GCU civilization where it was difficult to find them, but close enough to where they could still catch travelers off-guard to rob and kill them. Debris from nearby abandoned houses, a few existing shacks, and some other scrap from elsewhere were used to build this place that these raiders called home. Judging from the size of the compound and the number of raiders that could readily be seen, it appeared that their whole gang was here.

Several male and female raiders stood watch on the perimeter, but there weren’t many guards that could be seen by Mariah and the Apalachee at their vantage point in the dark. Perhaps the Bullsharks didn’t expect to be found out here but kept a few sentries on lookout just in case. It was a perfect opportunity for a surprise attack. Further inside the compound, most raiders were either asleep or hanging out and chatting with each other.

There was one particular raider that White-Feather pointed at for Mariah’s attention. “That is the head of the snake. Skull-Splitter.” It was obvious from looking at him how he earned that moniker: Adorning his metal armor were bits of human skulls to give off a frightening aesthetic. Perhaps it was Skull-Splitter’s way of tallying his kill count. He sat slouched on his makeshift throne, also gilded with bones, talking with several other raiders while he repeatedly flipped a bottlecap in the air and caught it in his hand. They were too far away to be heard.

When the raider guards were separated enough, White-Feather gave a signal for his warriors to move in. Silently, several Apalachee grabbed the raiders, covering their mouths and slitting their throats. Several of their guns were also looted for extra firepower. To hopefully make it less obvious that they were gone, the dead raiders’ corpses were dragged away into the dark.

White-Feather was seeking another prime opportunity to waste some raiders before they were alarmed by the Apalachees’ presence. Minutes went by before a few other raiders were to change shifts with their now-deceased compatriots. They noticed something was amiss but were not ready to sound a full-blown alarm. “Hey, boss,” one of them called out to Skull-Splitter. “Looks like our boys and girls are off their posts again.”

Skull-Splitter scoffed and spoke in a gravelly voice. “Probably think they’re tough going to handle some Radroaches or some s--- in the shadows. Or maybe just drunk and fell on their a---- to the ground. Go find them.”

The small group of raiders went over to the guard posts to survey where their fellow Bullsharks were. It wasn’t until they got close that they started noticing the blood stains and streaks from their bodies being hauled away. “What the . . . ,” one of them started to say, before they were assaulted by Apalachee throwing knives and spears.

This time, Skull-Splitter was there to see the action, though not where the Apalachee and Mariah were hiding. Things were about to get hectic. “Hey, lazy f----!” Skull-Splitter barked to his fellow raiders. “Get up! We got company! My mantle could use some more bones, so make whoever is out there regret coming here.” And with that, he pressed an alarm to quickly wake up his underlings. The whole base was swiftly on alert.

Now was the time for a full-scale assault on the compound. Mariah stayed hidden, using one of the dead raider’s hunting rifles and firing at whatever enemy she had a clean shot at. After she felled the first raider, the rest started moving and looking for cover.

“Presents for ya!” Skull-Splitter announced, pressing another set of buttons. Parts of the outside perimeter were rigged with hidden traps. Mines exploded, grenade bouquets dropped, and tesla coils went off around the area. Some of the Apalachee warriors were not able to evade in time and were quickly cut down. Fires illuminated the immediate vicinity, revealing other Apalachee fighters that were in cover. Chaotic gunfire then erupted between the two sides.

Meanwhile, White-Feather silently nudged Mariah. The two stayed crouched down and maneuvered to the backside of the raiders. A few more Apalachee were killed, but the Bullsharks were suffering greater casualties.

“Scared, huh? You should be,” Skull-Splitter yelled. “But don’t worry. I’ll make good use of your remains.” At his side was a combat shotgun, but for fights at farther range he wielded a .44 magnum revolver modded with a laser sight. With careful aim, he popped a few Apalachee on his own square in the head. Even with the laser sight, they were far shots, showcasing Skull-Splitter’s prowess as a marksman. He evidently had some tactical capabilities as well, for he suspected that his enemies were trying to flank him. White-Feather and Mariah found stout cover and looked for an opening on Skull-Splitter’s position when he whipped around and fired in their direction. “Think you’re smart, huh? Ain’t my first rodeo. I know exactly what you’re doin’.”

For some time, it seemed like it might be a slow battle of attrition as both the Bullsharks and Apalachee were slowly being killed. Mariah and White-Feather had no opportunity to fire back as Skull-Splitter kept them pinned down. It wasn’t until one of the other Apalachee warriors grabbed a dead raider’s Molotov cocktail and lobbed it at Skull-Splitter’s wooden shack that the tides of battle started shifting. Skull-Splitter adeptly ran out of the shack and kept his eyes on where Mariah and White-Feather were held up. He moved in closer, switching to his combat shotgun. “Get a load of this!” They could almost feel the force of the shotgun shells on their metal defenses as Skull-Splitter laughed maniacally. He, however, had less defense than he had previously.

White-Feather called out to one of his warriors and gave him instructions in their native tongue. The Apalachee in turn lobbed several spears to where Mariah and White-Feather were, luckily landing in spots where Skull-Splitter could not shoot them. “Mariah,” White-Feather said, “I’m going to use these spears as a distraction. When I throw them at Skull-Splitter and he evades them, that will be your time to shoot.” Mariah nodded. When Skull-Splitter stopped to reload his shotgun, White-Feather chucked one of the spears in his direction. Despite his metal armor, Skull-Splitter deftly side-stepped the throw, but in doing so had to stop reloading his weapon. At that moment, Mariah stood up and fired off an entire clip of her 10MM. Some of the shots merely dented his armor, but bullets caught his unprotected right hand and a part of his right leg that was uncovered. Skull-Splitter dropped and cried out in pain but was able to crawl behind a barrier, trying to clutch both of his serious wounds. “Ain’t . . . urgh . . . getting me that easily,” he said through clenched teeth. He still had his revolver on hand and reloaded it.

The Bullsharks saw that their leader was wounded and started panicking. Desperation led to mistakes, which tipped the scales in the Apalachees’ favor. One-by-one, the rest of the raiders were meeting their ends through a barrage of bullets. The Apalachee lost more than they anticipated, but there was no denying it was a rout of the Bullsharks. Skull-Splitter frantically fired off his remaining weapon, but it was no use. Every single one of his buddies was dead. The pain from the bullet-holes he received was too great and he had to let go of his revolver.

Mariah, White-Feather, and the Apalachee closed in on Skull-Splitter and surrounded him, making sure he didn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve. Several spears were aimed at his chest and throat. “It’s over, Skull-Splitter.” White-Feather stated matter-of-factly.

“Beaten by . . . urgh . . . a bunch of f------ tribals . . . gah,” Skull-Splitter was still running his mouth, even through gritted teeth.

“Shut the hell up,” Mariah snapped. “You got what was coming to you. I killed several of your buddies who stole some technology from the tribe and I heard them say they were hired on by somebody. Who put you up to it?”

“So, you’re the one that got them, huh? Well, even if I knew who exactly our employers were, I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Mariah was incredulous. “You take employment from somebody and you don’t even know who they are?”

“If it means caps, doll.” Skull-Splitter chuckled despite his pain. “Yes, even the Bullsharks would answer to someone else if it means getting paid and upping the body count. At least, I would take the offer. They didn’t say who they were so the deal couldn’t be traced back to them if it went south. All we were told to do was get something called the F.A.C.T. and that it was with the Apalachee. And then when we got it, we were to contact our employers.”

“Was it the Brotherhood of Steel? The Alabama Dissidents?” Mariah asked, even though she didn’t believe it was either one of those groups.

“No. None of those weirdos. If it was Brotherhood, they could’ve just done it themselves. And the Dissidents wouldn’t work with anybody that wasn’t them. I don’t have any love for the GCU, but I wouldn’t want to work with those idiots from Alabama either.”

White-Feather spoke up this time. “How did you know where we were then? I have taken great pains to keep my people safe and hidden as much as possible. Did your employers know?”

“Yeah. Don’t know how they knew, but it made our job a whole lot easier. Until you all showed up, obviously.” Skull-Splitter grunted. He sat there for a moment or two before he spoke again. “Well, what are you waiting for? I’ve told you enough whether you want to know more or not. Just get this over with.”

There was nothing else useful that was going to come out of Skull-Splitter’s mouth. White-Feather took it upon himself to put the final nail in the raider’s coffin. He grabbed a spear and jammed it straight into Skull-Splitter’s head, a somewhat ironic twist of fate given his name. And with that, the Bullsharks raider gang was no more.

Mariah shook her head in disgust. “Well, that wasn’t very helpful. But we killed an entire raider gang, at least.”

“Indeed.” White-Feather agreed. “It is time for us to head back to the camp.”

“Will you consider allying with the GCU then? The Brotherhood and the Dissidents won’t be able to stop our combined forces and we can finally convince the GCU to set aside your homeland.”

“I promised that we would consider an alliance. There is still mutual suspicion between the GCU and us. But given the current circumstances and your help, it seems that forming a pact would be the best option. It’s likely the only way we’ll be able to reach what we have sought for so long. But I have not decided yet.” White-Feather held up his hand to keep Mariah from getting too hopeful. “Regardless, know that your assistance is appreciated by myself and my people. You have proven yourself a friend to the Apalachee.”

It was getting deep into the night. With their work at the Bullsharks’ base done, they took some spoils of war and headed back to their own camp.



It was mostly a quiet trek back, save for some crickets chirping and the crunching of dirt and grass. But there was something that White-Feather had said in their first meeting that she remembered wanting to ask about. “Chief White-Feather?”

“Yes, Mariah?”

“Before, you said something about seeing me in a dream. What were you talking about?”

“Well . . . it is hard to explain to an outsider, even one who is a friend to us. But sometimes I receive visions. Sometimes it is simply through regular sleep. Other times, it is done through a rite that we perform. Unfortunately, however, not everything can be revealed to us, and receiving these visions too often and too quickly can be painful for the mind. That which is revealed to us may only show possible future occurrences, or even hint at somebody significant to our destiny coming to us soon. They are also often vague. Even I do not understand all that I see in my mind, nor do the leaders of our tribe.”

“Huh. Does this happen to people from outside of the tribe that are in close proximity? Because I think I had some similar . . . visions, I guess.” Mariah recounted what she had seen in her dreams before she had woken up. “What do you make of that?”

“Perhaps you have been blessed with some level of foresight as a residual effect of our rite. You have been asleep for some time in our camp. But I cannot say for sure. The nature of the Great Spirit’s revelations is not entirely understandable.”

“The Great Spirit?” Mariah asked. “Is that your own god? Or is that your name for a god that people outside the tribe worship?” She asked because White-Feather had already shown that the tribe sometimes had different names for terms that people from civilized areas used, such as the ‘Day of Conflagration’ instead of the Great War.”

[Fallout Soundtrack – City of the Dead]

“The Great Spirit—,” White-Feather suddenly stopped in his tracks as did the rest of the tribe. Mariah had no idea why everyone halted. “I smell fire and smoke. It’s coming from . . . no!”

“What is it?” Mariah still did not know what was going on.

“The fire and smoke is coming from our camp! We must hurry!” Mariah and the tribe rushed ahead, still about a half-mile away from their destination. Everyone had their weapons ready.

When they came into the clearing for their camp, fires were set to many of the tents. The Apalachee that had stayed there while Mariah and the others were on their excursion were either dead or on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Suddenly, their group was also surrounded, with loads of energy weapons aimed right at them. Several of the soldiers, clad in Power Armor, ordered Mariah and the tribe to lay down their weapons, and they complied. “So, Chief White-Feather. We meet again. Long time, no see,” one of them said, walking towards them.

It was Obadiah. The Brotherhood of Steel had arrived.

Is the opening sequence inspired from a real dream?

That is something which could happen, eh? Native Americans going back to their more original ways, especially as the greater societies around them fall apart. I have heard it is possible to totally hide in Florida's swamps, even in modern times.

Even now, the Apalachee are considered a 'foreign entity', I tell ya. Anyway, I hope nobody finds out they have this stupid F.A.C.T. device. Seems more trouble than it's worth. But I also trust Mariah should help set things right.

I like how she's getting training in Lockpicking, Sneak, and Unarmed, without using capital letters.

Uh oh, the Brotherhood are here. I already don't like them much at all. Bastards. But again, it seems they've located the Apalachee solely due to this technology they're harboring. Well, I assume they've still got it. You did not actually say where this F.A.C.T. is in this new chapter.

I wonder how much of what Mariah saw in her visions might be real, and how much prophecy?

Ah, so the Apalachee had the Fact it seems.

I wonder if this other group that hired the raiders might be the creepy church?

Oh boy, out of the frying pan and into the fire!

I enjoyed it, for the most part. The assault on The Bullsharks’ compound was fun!

Rest assured, I have not forgotten about this. Real life has just been getting in the way, but I've got most of the next chapter done. Got a lot of IRL work ahead of me today, though.

It's okay. We'll be here.

And we're finally back! We're coming close to the end of Part 1, but the overall story has only just begun. Here's Chapter 9 up at bat.

Chapter 9: Burying Grudges

[Fallout Soundtrack – City of the Dead]

“I thought you didn’t trust outsiders, Chief.” Obadiah said with a faint half-smirk, extending his arms out to his sides. Seeing him up close made his physical features more visible. Obadiah had jet black, short hair and a trimmed beard of the same color that followed his jaw line. He was of a stocky frame, a bit above average height but not exceptionally tall. “And yet, who is this lovely lady here?” He gestured toward Mariah. “She doesn’t look Apalachee to me.”

“I actually gave him a reason to put his faith in me, Obadiah,” Mariah retorted.

Obadiah furrowed his eyebrows quizzically when Mariah said his name. “Do we know each other? I’m quite good with names, but I don’t know yours.”

“I recognize her, sir,” one of the Brotherhood knights piped up. Obadiah looked in his direction. “I saw her escaping from the Fusion! plant where we fought those yahoos from Alabama.”

“Oh, I see,” Obadiah said, chuckling and turning back to Mariah. “You were the one who escaped from the Dissidents. What is your name?”

Mariah debated whether to spite him and not answer his question. She decided against doing so. Defiance wasn’t a viable nor wise option in this circumstance. “Mariah.”

“Mariah? Hmm. I think I have heard of you. Killed a bunch of Dissidents that attacked a caravan of yours, right? You must have been in that battle at Holt that we heard about, too. Otherwise, how would you be in the Dissidents’ clutches?” Mariah gave Obadiah a puzzled look. How did he know this much about her? “Yes, I know who you are. You’d be amazed at how quickly news travels. Not to mention my men and women here are quite proficient at deducing and finding out information. Well, if you were wondering, we sadly didn’t wipe out the Dissidents. Couldn’t even kill Russell, slippery old b------ he is. But that’s okay. We’ll be dealing with them in the near future.”

“How did you find us?” White-Feather demanded to know. “Why did you even come find us?”

“Like I said, we’re quite good at detective work. Found out you were doing a bit of trading in these parts and scouts were able to track down your location.” Obadiah wouldn’t explain that point further. “And given that neither the Dissidents nor the GCU had the F.A.C.T. in their possession, I realized that there was only one group that could’ve possibly had it: Yours. Yes, I know about it, so don’t feign ignorance. You’re the only other group who could have known about it and you would have been in the Birmingham area at the time it went missing. You must have snuck in the facility it was staying at before anyone else could take it.”

“Were you the ones who hired the Bullsharks to steal the F.A.C.T. from them?” Mariah asked accusatorily.

Obadiah seemed legitimately offended by her allegation. “Do you think that we would stoop to that level? To work with such filth like raiders? No, we did no such thing. But speaking of bargains . . .” Obadiah turned his attention back to White-Feather, “you made a big mistake not accepting my offer, White-Feather. Could’ve had your lands you so desperately seek if you just helped us out. I mean really, how did you think you were going to achieve that goal without us?”

“I saw the darkness inside you,” White-Feather said. “You would’ve betrayed us when you had the opportunity. This is far from the first time we have had trouble with you, you know.”

Obadiah did not directly respond to the accusation. “I don’t give a damn about your lands, White-Feather. We may have our history with your people, but I was willing to cast that aside. Your lands mean nothing to me as long as they don’t have Pre-War tech that we need to protect. And as long as you aren’t holding Pre-War tech that you shouldn’t have, I won’t seek trouble. But you have something that is rightfully ours, and we’re here to take it. Shows exactly why we can’t even think about working with outsiders. I clearly made a mistake even offering you an opportunity, because I’m guessing it led you to the F.A.C.T. You can be rest assured that mistake won’t happen again.”

“What do you even want the F.A.C.T. for so badly?” Mariah said. “Why is it so important that you are slaughtering people for it and that you came out all this way east for it?”

“Come on now, Mariah, even many civilians have a basic understanding of what we are about. The Brotherhood’s mission is to retrieve and reclaim—others would erroneously say ‘hoard’ or ‘steal’ or something along those lines—Pre-War tech so that fools like you don’t abuse them. We keep them safe from outsiders. And I suppose you could also say in that sense that we’re protecting outsiders from it, too. It’s a favor we are doing.”

“A favor? You’re ruthlessly killing people over it!” Mariah said indignantly. “You’re a monster!”

“No, I’m not. You are missing the big picture,” Obadiah said, shaking his head. “What we’re doing is for the greater good of civilization. While others seek to misuse technology and knowledge, the Brotherhood does what it has to do to save it. These people we ‘murder’ are not some sort of innocents like you portray them as. If we must put down those who would exploit it for their own gain, then it is our duty to do so. Especially for something as powerful as this tech is supposed to be.”

“But you’re the one who is looking to abuse it!” Mariah exclaimed incredulously. “You’ve deluded yourself! You’re just like the Dissidents!”

Obadiah bristled at her comparison. “You’d do well to not equate us to that glorified backwater gang. Look, I don’t expect an outsider to understand. The Founder of our organization, Roger Maxson, has laid out the mission for the Brotherhood and it is my responsibility to make his visions a reality. It might not be quite in the way that he envisioned—he believed in outsiders too much. But I do what is necessary. You might see us as barbarians, but what we are doing is what will resurrect civilization and make it thrive in the long run. That means that tech and knowledge like the F.A.C.T. cannot be in the hands of the Dissidents, GCU, Apalachee, whoever this other shadowy cabal is that wants it, or anyone else. It’s the Brotherhood’s destiny to claim it. If I ever do get to see High Elder Maxson again, he will be proud of what we are doing. If he is still alive, anyway.” Obadiah didn’t mention the fact that there were multiple chapters of the Brotherhood of Steel throughout the former United States, something that Mariah and White-Feather were not aware of.

“There is a price that will be paid for this bloodshed, Obadiah.” White-Feather vowed. “My people’s deaths will be avenged one day.”

Obadiah angrily jabbed an index finger right at White-Feather’s chest. “It’s your fault that more of your people are dead, Chief. You had them conceal something that is highly dangerous and belongs in our hands. And you could’ve avoided all of this if you just assisted us.” Obadiah cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, we’ll be taking the F.A.C.T. now. No need to tell us where exactly since a couple of your tribe’s members pointed it out. And to demonstrate how we are not cruel, I’m not going to have you all gunned down. You have learned your lesson, I hope. Just don’t even think about trying to impede us again. Not that you really could anyway. Oh, and Mariah?” Obadiah looked Mariah straight in the eyes. “The same goes for you. Don’t attempt to bring your precious GCU into this. Or deceive yourself into doing what you think are heroics.” Now he addressed his fellow Knights and Paladins. “Ad victoriam, brothers and sisters! Return to base. Don’t shoot any more of them, but make sure they don’t try anything slick either.” His soldiers responded affirmatively. A couple of them grabbed the F.A.C.T., which had been hiding in a dense thicket right next to the camp, while others kept their weapons trained on Mariah and the Apalachee until they left.

All was quiet. No one moved. None of them knew what to do. After a few minutes of silence, with the Brotherhood long gone, White-Feather dropped to his knees. “I’ve failed my people,” he said, anguished.

“What?” Mariah said.

“Many of my fellow Apalachee are dead because of me. Because of my hubris. It is my obligation to lead my people to safety and prosperity. Perhaps Obadiah was right. I should’ve just taken a deal with them. People under my watch would still be alive if I had. We would have been that much closer to our goals.”

“Absolutely not!” Mariah said indignantly, not toward White-Feather but toward Obadiah’s propaganda. “You could not have known this was going to happen. Obadiah showed you exactly why you couldn’t trust him. You did the right thing.”

“It is kind of you to say that, Mariah, but it does not change the fact that I couldn’t save our dead. Their losses are indicative of my failure.”

“Chief, look at me.” Mariah said, but White-Feather still looked at the ground. “Chief,” she said more forcefully. This time he turned to her. “Your job is inherently dangerous. Conditions for your whole tribe are inherently dangerous. There is no way you could have saved them all. The wastes are incredibly hostile to all of us. But the men, women, and children of your tribe look to you as their leader for a reason. You are the one best equipped to lead them, to bring them to their ancestral lands. I’ve seen it firsthand. You’ve come all this way and you can’t give up now. And it’s not just your tribe that needs you. The GCU needs you and I need your help, too. We can still stop the Brotherhood from fully utilizing the F.A.C.T. for whatever it is they are trying to do. Please.” She held her hand out to White-Feather. He grabbed it as she pulled him up.

“You are right,” White-Feather said with a renewed resolve. “I am the Chief of the Apalachee. It is my duty to lead, and by the Great Spirit, I shall. We shall defeat the Brotherhood, and the Dissidents the next time they come around.” He called the rest of the tribe that was present over to him. “Men and women of the Apalachee, let us bury our dead and honor them. We will rest tonight, and with the rekindled spirit of battle we will move out in the morning. We shall ally with the GCU to defeat our mutual enemies, and they will give us the land we seek.”

As the Apalachee moved about to lay their fallen to rest, Mariah talked to White-Feather again. “So where is the closest city? Are we close to Niceville?”

“There is a large settlement called Panama City that is closer to us but still too far to reach quickly. But I do know there is a GCU outpost fairly close to where we are. We’ll need you to be our emissary. There is still mutual distrust between our societies. Can you do this for us, Mariah? They will have to listen to you after what you have done for them.”

Mariah was reluctant to give explicit promises to people. She was anxious about failing to live up to a promise, no matter how hard she tried. But she was determined to see this through. She told White-Feather as much. “It is not often I promise things, Chief. I can’t stand the thought of not coming through. But damn that, you have my word that I will make this happen.” She held out her hand for a handshake. White-Feather obliged, shaking her hand in return.

“When this is all over, Mariah, I will see to it that your deeds are passed down in the annals of our oral traditions. But first thing’s first. Let us rest tonight and begin our plan tomorrow.”



Mariah had been exhausted for much of the past week, but a restful night’s sleep, resolve, and adrenaline amped her up in the morning. She and the Apalachee headed for a GCU outpost—Outpost Theta, to be exact—along one of the old Pre-War state roads. Going out ahead of them, Mariah walked up to the outpost and pleaded with the soldiers there to use their communication equipment. With an extra bit of charisma, and her knowledge of some of the GCU leadership, the soldiers couldn’t resist a pretty face. Mariah did not like having to use her attractiveness to help her achieve goals, but it certainly had come in handy for her in the past.

She first contacted Darius, the commander from Niceville, who again reprimanded her for her recklessness. Nonetheless, he was appreciative of Mariah’s efforts and receiving updates on the situation with the F.A.C.T. “I’ll inform Commander Bertrand and Lieutenant Carmichael immediately. He oversees the GCU for all of the Panhandle and will more than likely be leading the charge. I’m not sure how well GCU leadership will take working with the Apalachee though. A lot of wariness there, but I will vouch for you. I have no doubt that Commander Bertrand and Jacob will do the same for you.” Mariah wondered if Valentina would be joining an assault on wherever the Brotherhood were taking the F.A.C.T. But since she was not in a leadership position, Darius would not have any idea, so Mariah didn’t ask him about her. “Do you know where the Brotherhood took off to?”

“No,” Mariah said with a heavy sigh. “From what the Apalachee told me, it was southeast of where we were. But I’m still not too familiar with the lay of the land, and I’m not entirely sure where we were camped at. They’ll have to give you more of the details.”

“Alright, we’ll figure it out when GCU leadership convenes. Thanks, Mariah. Be careful out there.” Darius ended the transmission. Even though time was precious, it was going to take a day or two for GCU personnel to convene.



Another day passed. GCU leadership wasn’t able to fully meet in person yet so some were relegated to radio communications again, like Commander Bertrand. But Commander Darius was in town, along with the Commander for Panama City, a woman of Japanese descent named Masako. She wasn’t tall or bulky like her contemporaries, but she could give off a tough demeanor when needed.

The convention was held in a meeting room at the GCU headquarters in Panama City. White-Feather and some of his best warriors were also in the room. The tension between the GCU and the Apalachee was palpable, and it was going to be up to Mariah to ease it. Ironic, she thought, considering how she often found herself willingly participating in conflict and far from a mediating position.

There, Mariah met face-to-face with Lieutenant Carmichael, the overseer of the Panhandle that Darius had mentioned. He already knew who she was and some of her exploits. “So you’re that spitfire I’ve heard so much about. I’m Lieutenant Carmichael.” The two of them shook hands. “You’ve been making quite a name for yourself, Mariah. While your behavior has sometimes been . . . questionable, at best, I know you are also responsible for helping us in many ways. But before we begin, I need to know how you became aware of the Brotherhood’s possession of the F.A.C.T.”

“Well, they came to . . .” Mariah froze. How would they react if she told them the Apalachee grabbed it right from under the noses of the GCU, Brotherhood, and the Dissidents? What if that tanked any chance of a truce between the GCU and the Apalachee? She tried to think quickly about some other answer, one that wouldn’t be a lie but wouldn’t give the full story, but nothing came to her.

“Ah. Would it be because these tribals here took it first?” Carmichael asked with a thinly veiled animosity toward the tribe. “Tribal” wasn’t always used in an offensive manner, but it was often a derogatory term used toward uncivilized groups, regardless of who they were or where they came from. Tribal groups could be just about any ethnicity. It wasn’t clear if Carmichael asked this question because of his general suspicion of the Apalachee or if he logically deduced that it must have been them that took it. She could see even see it on many of the GCU personnel’s faces that, despite their cynicism toward the Apalachee, they were uncomfortable at the Lieutenant’s offense.

White-Feather spoke up. “It’s alright, Mariah. I’ll answer this mouth-breather. Yes, we had it. We kept it safe, and the enmity of buffoons like you is exactly why we had to keep it safe in our hands.” The meeting was already threatening to break apart when it had barely begun.

“You bite your tongue, Chief,” Carmichael growled, stepping towards White-Feather, who stood up in response, ready to fight. Tension was rising quickly. Apalachee and GCU officer alike were all ready to draw weapons.

This time, it was Mariah’s turn to be the voice of reason. She stepped in between White-Feather and Carmichael. “Stop it, both of you!” Everyone in the room turned their attention to her. “F---‘s sake, we are all on the same team here! We’re wasting time when the Brotherhood has this tech, and who knows what exactly they’re going to do with it? Now come on, we need to figure out how to band together to stop them. Let’s sit down and figure this out.” Lieutenant Carmichael’s face expressed indignation at her attempt to take authority of the situation but obliged. Mariah continued. “Look, the Apalachee may not have done everything the way they should have. But their intention was to keep the tech from the Brotherhood and the Dissidents. And when they met the antagonism of the GCU toward them, they decided it was best for them to continue holding onto it. I think that’s understandable.”

Carmichael scoffed. “If they just gave us the device, we would have been much nicer to them. Could have avoided all this trouble.”

“Oh, really, Lieutenant?” Mariah asked pointedly. “With the way you treated them? How would they know? I wouldn’t be giving to people who were nothing but hostile to me either, especially some tech that can create weapons seemingly at the snap of fingers. But here’s the thing: We all need each other now. The GCU has a lot of firepower but they can’t do it on their own. The Apalachee are very familiar with the Brotherhood, more so and for far longer than us, and we need as many people as we can get to take them on. I’ve seen firsthand what the Apalachee are capable of. We wiped out the entire Bullsharks raider gang near Niceville.”

“It’s true,” Darius spoke up. “Absolutely no reports of them showing up near the town. Some travelers even found their camp, laid waste to and strewn with Bullshark bodies. They might even turn it into a small settlement of their own with the threat over.”

Carmichael grudgingly admitted that that was an impressive feat. “Those a--hats have been a lot of trouble lately, so that does free us up now that they’re dead. But those are just some dumb raiders. I don’t see how these Apalachee can help us against such a technologically-advanced foe.”

Commander Bertrand chimed in on the radio. “Lieutenant, if I may, I have something to add.” Carmichael gave him the go-ahead. “For all the trouble she can get into, Mariah has been dedicated to our mutual cause. She fended off a Dissident attack on her caravan when she first got to Florida. She figured out that we were sending a force to Holt to stamp out the Dissidents on her own. She got a lot of information on the F.A.C.T. and more insight into the Dissidents and the Brotherhood which we might not otherwise have. And personally, she is directly responsible for my reinstatement as a Commander, as she discovered there is a traitor in our department leaking information to the Dissidents. We’re still working on rooting out who our Dissident mole is. I think we need to give her a chance here to make her case.”

It was somewhat astounding to Mariah that Bertrand gave such commendation to her after his frustrations with her when they last saw each other. She blushed a bit at his praise. “Thank you, Commander. That means a lot.”

“Fine, fine,” Carmichael relented. “So, what do you propose here then, Mariah? What is it that the Apalachee want?”

“All they want is the land that their ancestors had from centuries ago. They left Oklahoma because of some trouble there—which also had something to do with the Brotherhood—but that was where their people lived when the Great War happened. I don’t know where exactly the land is but . . .”

“It is what used to be the Apalachicola National Forest,” White-Feather said. “That’s all we are seeking.”

Commander Masako spoke for the first time. “That’s not far from here. But it hasn’t been truly settled by anyone yet, despite being within GCU borders. Irradiated creatures reportedly infest the place. I suggest great caution if you are looking to settle there.”

“Okay, so what do we get in return?” Carmichael asked, this time earnestly. “It’s one thing if we agree to a deal, but the GCU government’s Florida delegation still has to approve of it. And they’ll need a reason to.”

Mariah looked to White-Feather to see what they were willing to do. He answered. “You can have the F.A.C.T., but we must have a guarantee that our residence in our ancestral lands is permanent. Mutually beneficial trade can also be established, and together we can make strides in killing the dangerous wildlife there, so they don’t threaten any of us. My people have become adept at dealing with many such creatures.”

“And then, of course, we’ll take down the Brotherhood together,” Carmichael added. “Alright, we’ve got a deal, as far as I’m concerned. We’ll work out the details more later, but we’ll get our tentative agreement written down so we hold each other to it. Fantastic.” He clapped his hands once, but he kept a stoic expression. “None of that is going to matter, however, if we don’t deal with the task at hand. We need to figure out where the Brotherhood ran off to. We know that they need a particularly powerful supercomputer to use this tech, and Masako’s team has been trying to research whatever info they can find on one. Did you or your officers find anything, Masako?”

“We’ve pinpointed some candidates nearby and, based on what we know of the direction the Brotherhood went, we’ve narrowed it down some more,” Masako replied. “But we can’t verify there is working technology in any of these places. There have been rumors of a bunker somewhere in Laguna Beach that was used by the United States military, but no one has confirmed a sighting. The only other place that we think any sort of supercomputer could be is at Tyndall Air Force Base.”

“So one place we do know the location of, right outside of town, and another that we have only a general idea of,” Carmichael shook his head. “Not to mention all the other dangers along the coast in this area.”

“What dangers? Like radfrogs or radtoads? Sirens?” Mariah asked.

Carmichael chuckled but not in an amused way. “Oh no, those are child’s play compared to what’s out there. I mean, there’s probably some of those, yeah. We had some settlements along the coast in Laguna Beach a long time ago, but they had to be abandoned. Giant fricking aquatic abominations that we’ve taken to called ‘dreadnoughts.’ Then you’ve got Mirelurks, basically mutated crabs. They might be near Tyndall as well, but we definitely know the base is absolutely infested with feral ghouls. Some of the robots on base are active as well. Defense protocol because of the War, I suppose. We’ve tried clearing the place out a couple times before, but it seems that they just keep repopulating.”

“Do you think the Brotherhood knows about these monsters?” White-Feather questioned.

“Doubtful,” Carmichael replied. The hostility between the two leaders had mostly dissolved and they started treating each other with more respect. “They come from near where your tribe does, right? There’s no way they are familiar with this territory. They may be good at finding out info or scouting or whatever, but no way are they prepared for the horrors along the gulf there. Quite frankly, I’m not sure we are either. But we will likely have to deal with monsters and the Brotherhood at the same time.”

“So . . . what exactly are these dreadnoughts?” Mariah inquired. The name certainly sounded menacing. Mariah wasn’t taking them lightly, but she was somewhat skeptical of them being considerably worse than Radfrogs or any of the other irradiated animals she had already crossed paths with.

“They sort of look like giant turtles. Yeah, those same little guys that usually hide inside their shells when threatened. Don’t laugh, because dreadnoughts don’t act anything like them. To be honest . . . I don’t think they’re just turtles. They seem like they got something else going on in them biologically because they have features that aren’t turtle-like, but I can’t say for certain. Anyway, whatever they are or their origins, they are often as big as a house and are extremely, and I mean extremely, aggressive. I’d advise everyone in this operation to be prepared for at least one of them. The Brotherhood better watch out too unless they want to become food.”

“Noted. So, where do we go now? Tyndall or Laguna Beach? We can’t just split up our forces but what if we send everyone to one place and we’re wrong? We—”

Carmichael raised his hand, signaling Mariah to stop. “Easy there, spitfire. You’re going to play a big role in this operation, believe me. But we’ll handle the strategy. Time is of the essence, but we can’t just run somewhere without a plan. Now that we have the Apalachee here, we can better formulate one. Listen closely, everyone. Here’s what we’re going to do . . .”

Gosh Mariah, stop being so defiant! Kidding. I always cringe when she gets like that though, especially in the face of somebody who's got an obvious upper-hand against her. She's going to get her knee caps busted one of these days, or something such.



Right, and I imagine some of these chapters are more nefarious than others. The D.C. area chapter led by what's-his-name is arguably not as bad as Obadiah.



Oh no. No you can't, defiant one.

I do believe she can act as a go-between the Apalachee and GCU. All she'll need to do is tell Darius and Bertrand that the natives had the F.A.C.T., which is now in Brotherhood hands. Everybody is going insane over this F.A.C.T. thingie for some reason. They'll join forces just to get it. I say they should ALL join forces against the radfrogs, but whatever. Nobody'd listen to me!

She uses her Charisma.



I do. They'll be able to help in the same way Native Americans were able to help against the British during the Revolutionary War, and against the Bullsharks for that matter. They're better with subterfuge and infiltration, as they have the ability of using the land itself to their advantage.




In the backwards world of Fallout, in which all terminals are apparently greenscreen CRT technology we saw back in the 1980s, what does this 'supercomputer' equate to, compared to our modern world? Windows 95? 98? Kidding.

The end of this chapter is interesting, if only because Carmichael is the first 'official' to finally not tell Mariah she's not to be included in whatever comes next. I mean, if he said "NO you can't come with us" ... well, we all know how that would play by now...

I liked how you showed the Brotherhood's sense of entitlement here. In their mind Pre-War tech is rightfully theirs. So they are entirely justified in killing people and taking their technology.

Things are coming together now. It feels like we are moving toward a conclusion. Unless the Dissidents turn up again.

Chapter 10: The F.A.C.T. of the Matter

[Fallout Soundtrack – Metallic Monks]

The old U.S. Route 98 was the major thoroughfare that ran through Panama City, and one of the longest roads in the state. It was also going to play a critical role in the GCU operation. One direction went directly toward Tyndall while the other cut through the ruins of Panama City Beach and to the vestiges of Laguna Beach. To reach these destinations, the GCU would have to traverse bridges over large bodies of water. These bridges miraculously still stood mostly intact, except for some makeshift crossings of wood, steel, and concrete laid out over gaps.

Lieutenant Carmichael was betting his money that the Brotherhood would mostly go for Tyndall, as the location of that was relatively well-known and it was definitively a real place, not to mention the major Pre-War military center in the Panhandle. But there was still the distinct possibility that this fabled military bunker in Laguna Beach was real, and there was no way to know for sure if the Brotherhood knew about the myth and were going to look for it as well. Commander Darius was going to lead the charge there, with his second-in-command Jordan staying in Niceville to lead operations there in the interim. Sunny Hills’ Commander Bradford was able to spare some of his men and women to be led by Darius. “I would have Bradford leading the outfit based on proximity, but Darius has more experience in combat, and he does have familiarity with GCU personnel around Sunny Hills as well,” Carmichael explained.

Meanwhile, Commanders Bertrand and Masako would follow Carmichael into Tyndall Air Force Base, with Mariah coming with them. There was likely to be some resistance from feral ghouls and various robots at Tyndall, but there was no way to know for sure. The GCU set up their base just after they crossed the bridge in what used to be the Tyndall “FamCamp,” a facility where military personnel’s children could play while not at school. It was, hopefully, far enough away from the base that they wouldn’t be seen. Bertrand and Masako’s squads took different sections for camp.

Mariah and the Apalachee were getting significant upgrades in gear for the operation. Mariah finally got to trade in leather armor for the much sturdier defense of GCU combat armor. Even with the new equipment and her penchant for rushing into danger, she started to feel some level of apprehension about this mission. She had not been a part of anything like this before. A lot of people’s lives depended in part on her performance, when before her reckless actions mostly only directly affected her, at least in her mind.

Masako must have noticed Mariah’s nervousness, for the former clasped a hand on the latter’s left shoulder. “Are you alright, Mariah?”

“Oh, hey, Masako—er, Commander Masako. Yeah, I won’t lie. I’m feeling anxious. I know that’s not helpful for the GCU but—"

“There’s nothing wrong with being nervous about this mission, Mariah,” Masako assured her. “It’s a normal feeling. I’d actually be more concerned if you weren’t nervous at all. But judging from what I have heard about you and meeting you face-to-face, I’m confident that you have really grown from your experiences in the Panhandle.”

Mariah was a bit surprised at the statement. “Really?”

“Absolutely. You’ve been impetuous in most of your actions, even if they have mostly turned out to be a boon to our cause. But already now, you’re listening more to authority. You’re being more thoughtful about what you are doing. And you’re being more cognizant of how your actions are affecting and will affect others. I think you should be proud of that. I am.”

Mariah was blown away by the compliments and couldn’t help but blush a bit. “Thank you, Commander Masako. That means a lot.”

“Well, I also appreciate how you handled the Apalachee. I know what it feels like to be unwelcome because you are different.”

“What do you mean?” Mariah asked.

“I have Japanese ancestry. When World War II happened—close to 200 years ago at this point—Japan was one of the main enemies of the U.S., the U.K., and Russia. And when the U.S. got into the war, they indiscriminately threw many Japanese-Americans into internment camps. Some of my ancestors had to live in those camps. They weren’t unlike the internment camps that Chinese-Americans were thrown into before the Great War. The Japanese and the Chinese may have had some long-standing bad blood between them, but I still don’t believe how many Chinese-Americans were treated before the War was right. But war shows you just how terrible human beings can be too each other. Any group of people is capable of treating another group of people inhumanely and finding some excuse for why it’s justified. And I do mean anyone. Doesn’t matter what is your race, religion, gender, politics, whatever. It’s basic human psychology.”

Mariah didn’t know a whole lot about Pre-War history and told Masako as much. “That’s awful. But what about you? Have you personally felt unwelcome?”

“Well, I was born outside of GCU lands and didn’t move to Florida until I was already into adulthood. A lot of people can tell easily if you are from outside of the GCU, not just this state. And with groups like the Dissidents, Brotherhood, and some from Pre-War Georgia or in Florida outside of the GCU, it makes it easier for citizens here to show blanket hostility to outsiders. Not everyone in the GCU does it, of course, but a lot of people are feeling tense.

“And even when my general presence was warmed up to, some people weren’t too keen on me climbing up the military ladder to becoming Commander in Panama City. It wasn’t even the fact that I’m a woman—other Commanders have been women—although for some people, that didn’t help. It’s more that I was not a card-carrying member of the establishment. When you aren’t a member of an ingroup, you tend to be looked down on as someone in an outgroup. My small stature gives them a convenient excuse, though.” Masako was only about 5’6” and 125 pounds, but she was tough. She had to be to be a Commander. “Anyway, I know the Apalachee were met with suspicion when they came to Florida, and they were suspicious towards anyone outside their tribe. The Lieutenant, as you could see, isn’t very fond of them either. Same with some other GCU personnel. They’re outsiders in a time where outsiders are putting people on edge. My experiences probably haven’t been quite the same as theirs, but I know a bit about what that’s like.

“But you didn’t treat them like that. You helped them out and you found a way to bring the GCU and the Apalachee together for a common cause. That takes a lot of guts and effort, and I commend you for that.”

“Well, it’s nice that someone noticed,” Mariah said with a single, slight laugh. “Maybe it helps that I’ve traveled a lot and met a lot of different kinds of people.”

Commander Bertrand then walked into their tent. “Hello, Bertrand,” Masako said, saluting him.

“Hi, Masako,” Bertrand reciprocated the salute. “Can I speak to Mariah for a few alone?”

“Of course,” Masako said, patting Mariah on the back and leaving.

“Long time, no see, Commander,” Mariah greeted him. “Definitely not how I imagined us meeting again. Or hoped.”

“Indeed. It’s amazing how much can transpire over a simple matter of a couple of weeks. How are you holding up?” His frustration with her from the last time they saw each other was long gone.

Mariah started to feel like she was going to be sick. “To be honest, I’m pretty nervous. I know I can be pretty stubborn and head-first and all, but I haven’t been a part of anything like this before. There’s a lot at stake here.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Mariah,” Bertrand said, leaning in slightly. The ‘secrecy’ was a bit tongue-in-cheek. “I still get those proverbial butterflies in my stomach on major missions.”

Mariah’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? But you’re so experienced at this.”

“If you don’t have at least a bit of nerves when you’re part of an operation like this, then you are not approaching the situation correctly,” Bertrand answered, echoing Masako’s sentiment. “This is giving me some flashbacks back to Birmingham. All the death and destruction that felt avoidable to some extent. And then to top it off, we didn’t even acquire the tech. The Brotherhood and the Dissidents are still around. The seemingly endless fighting means a lot of opportunity to die in the wastes. At the same time, however. . .” Bertrand gestured to outside of the tent, indicating all of the GCU soldiers there. “I know what our forces are capable of, and I’m a firm believer that we can win the day. And you know what the major difference is now?” Mariah just shrugged after thinking for a moment. Bertrand pointed towards her and cracked a smile, something Mariah had not seen from him before. “We have you. And we have the Apalachee. Not to mention we are much more familiar with our enemy now. I’m determined to defeat the Brotherhood of Steel for good—and the Dissidents when the time comes.”

“Well, I’m with you there,” Mariah said. Bertrand’s determination and confidence began to rub off on her. “By the way . . . thanks for vouching for me the other day. That meant a lot.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve seen and heard of what you are capable of, Mariah. I’m glad you are on our side and that you are here. I believe in you. But I need you to promise me that you will follow the plan. Do not go off on your own unless it is a last resort. We need you to make it through this and we need you to make sure this whole campaign goes accordingly. Can I count on you for that?”

Mariah’s resolve solidified. “You got it. You have my word.”

“Good. When this is over, we’ll have to find time to celebrate. But it’s time to focus on what’s at hand first. Let’s go back and meet with the Lieutenant and the others.”

Mariah grabbed Bertrand’s arm before he turned around. “Oh, before we go: Is Valentina here? Feels like forever since we last saw each other. I . . . still feel kinda awful about not telling her that I was leaving town.”

Bertrand nodded. “Yes. But she is with the squad I am leading on our side of the base, so you won’t be able to see each other for now. I’m hoping to keep her out of combat as much as possible, as she isn’t as experienced as we would like for this mission. Still, she’s a valuable member and has other talents at her disposal.” Mariah was disappointed but understood. She planned to meet Valentina first thing after this whole ordeal was over.



Lieutenant Carmichael reiterated the plan with the GCU and Apalachee leaders as well as Mariah. The Apalachee’s penchant for reconnaissance and stealth would be key to scouting the area for any signs of the Brotherhood, along with the possibility of robotic and feral ghoul threats. Tyndall Air Force Base was a sprawling, wide-open complex. The remains of aircraft and other military vehicles was strewn about the grounds, providing extra cover in case of a firefight. Yet there was one building that was ostensibly the main area of operations for Pre-War military stationed here, and it was likely what the Brotherhood would be most interested in. Meanwhile, the forces for Commanders Bertrand and Masako would be split up in an attempt to flank any Brotherhood when the time came to fight them, with parts of each force designated to move into this main building while others stayed outside. Carmichael would be coordinating between the two overarching squads.

The Apalachee scouts were given two-way radios that the GCU was able to spare for the mission and moved further into the base’s grounds. After several minutes, one of them reported on the GCU frequency to Chief White-Feather, who was with Masako and Mariah. “I only see some dead ghouls and inactive robots, Chief. Looks to be fresh activity but can’t tell for certain. No clear indications of the Brotherhood being outside.”

“Understood. Stay vigilant,” White-Feather responded.

“Do you think the Brotherhood know we are here?” Mariah asked, more so for a confirmation of her suspicions than as an actual question.

“Not necessarily. But I’m certain they are prepared for us to be here.” Masako replied. Then she turned on her two-way radio. “Alright, division one, move in very slowly and stay low to the ground and close to cover. Always better to prepare for traps than to be surprised by them.” Her squad did as she commanded.

The seconds passing by were starting to feel like minutes, and the minutes felt even longer. The base was quiet—too quiet. Mariah was getting restless and anxious. She had to suppress her impulsive nature to stick to the plan. As GCU and Apalachee personnel walked further into the complex, signs of recent entry into the buildings became more noticeable. The dead feral ghouls were still warm and steam from laser weapon shots still emanated from wounds. The Brotherhood was definitely here.

[Prodeus Soundtrack – Hot Spot]

As the time dragged on, soldiers were awaiting further orders. Before Carmichael or Masako could give them, the sound of weapons could be heard in the distance. Everyone’s adrenaline began pumping again as they frenetically looked in all directions. The weapon firing was coming from near the GCU camps. That was when Bertrand tuned into their frequency and bellowed, “S---, we got Brotherhood inbound! Patrol was walking around, and they found us! They’re calling in reinforcements from inside the complex, so get ready!” Bertrand and most of his squad were still at the camps and the sound of energy and ballistic firearms could be heard through the radio.

The time to fight was now.

“Soldiers take cover! Brotherhood will be pouring out of the buildings at any moment!” Masako yelled. And sure enough they did, not long after the declaration. Out first came several Knights and Paladins clad in Power Armor, but most of the Brotherhood only had their own style of combat armor to protect them. Many of the Brotherhood had energy weapons like laser rifles and even a few plasma rifles, while the GCU and Apalachee mostly had ballistic weapons. They undoubtedly had been searching for more technology to claim while they were here. Mariah wondered if there were some Power Armor units inside the complex that were still usable. If so, the Brotherhood were undoubtedly scrounging through the place for them as well.

And so the pandemonium ensued once again.

Mariah still had her 10MM pistol and sword, but along with her upgrade in defense came an automatic combat rifle and a couple stimpaks. It was a lot to carry, but luckily her armor was designed to accommodate a bigger inventory. She took cover with Masako and White-Feather. Grenades, bullets, and profanity flew seemingly everywhere. There was already a need for GCU leadership to improvise, but they were pinned down behind a rusted-out military truck. Mariah wasn’t confident she was going to get out of this situation this time, but she did her best not to show it. “Commander Masako! What do we do now? We can’t get any shots off!” She had to yell over the incessant firing.

“Let’s try this!” Masako quickly ducked underneath the truck. There was still enough a gap to get under and she tried shooting low at any Knights and Paladins she could. She managed to drop a couple of them by shooting out their feet and lower legs. One of them writhed in pain but was able to desperately crawl back behind her cover. The other Knight wasn’t so lucky as either a GCU or Apalachee member dispatched him. It seemed that other Brotherhood saw what Masako was up to and fired at her position underneath the truck. She scurried back behind her defense as quickly as she could, but she may have died if it weren’t for White-Feather’s quick thinking. He grabbed Masako’s legs and pulled her away before she could be shot. “Whew. Thank you, Chief!”

“As long as we are allied, I will see to it that I keep alive as many of my allies as possible,” White-Feather replied matter-of-factly. “We need to get Mariah and some of my warriors into the main building now! She seems to have a penchant for solving these problems and they will be best suited for sneaking around the facility if they have to.”

“But we can’t!” Mariah said as more lasers and bullets hit their truck. “They’ll kill us the moment we pop out of cover!” White-Feather pulled hard on the truck’s passenger door to see if he could find anything that would help. The condition of the vehicle was so deteriorated that the door was unintentionally pulled off of its hinges. “Well, that sure is convenient,” Mariah noted.

“This door is big enough to protect you.”

“But how is it going to hold up against weapon fire? You just broke it off its damn hinges!” Mariah was flabbergasted at his suggestion. White-Feather quickly whipped out a pistol and started firing into the door before she put it in front of her, startling Mariah. He looked at the other side of the door and found none of the bullets penetrated. “You could’ve warned me, Chief!”

“Every second counts, Mariah. I was careful anyway. This was an Old-World military vehicle, so they were going to give its exterior extra protection. But perhaps there is something in this truck I can use to provide better covering fire.” He rummaged through the glovebox for any sort of big weapon, but to no avail. The truck was angled enough that he could search in the truck bed without being shot by Brotherhood soldiers. “As your people might say, ‘bingo.’” He was referring to the fact that he found a missile launcher. It only had a few missiles with it, which was hopefully enough for this situation.

Yet as was always the wastes’ wont, things got more complicated—for both sides. Loud mechanical noises blared as some of the inactive robots started to wake up. Most of the gunfire from both GCU/Apalachee and Brotherhood ceased as they turned their attention to a new enemy. It soon became apparent that neither faction turned them on, because the robots were ready to kill any and all humans. Were they programmed to awaken if fighting broke out on the Tyndall grounds, or did somebody else turn them on? In any case, most of the robots were the usual types: Protectrons and Mr. Gutsies. But there was another type Mariah hadn’t ever seen before. They walked on spider-like legs and sported dual .50 caliber rifles and long serrated blades they could switch between. “What the hell are those things?!” Mariah blurted out as the automatons started discharging their own weapons. It felt a lot like Holt, only this time with machines instead of irradiated monstrosities.

“Aegis bots! As far as I know, they’re only in Florida,” Masako said, her face turning grim.

“Seems like a lot of things happen only in Florida!” Mariah responded with a mixture of sarcasm and seriousness. They all still had to yell to each other over the gunfire.

“It’s a crazy state, I’ll give you that! Heard it could be that way Pre-War, too. Anyway, it’s got two rifles and sharp blades, and it can arguably be worse than a Sentry Bot. Might be able to go toe-to-toe with an Assaultron. Can jump short distances, too. We got a few up-and-running in a few places in the GCU, so I’ve seen them in action.”

White-Feather interjected. “This is the best time to get Mariah out of here! The robots aren’t preoccupied with our position yet.” They were busy attacking the Brotherhood and other spots where GCU and Apalachee soldiers were. “You must go now, Mariah!” White-Feather called to a couple of his warriors a short distance away, who were not being attacked by the mechanized entrants of the battle yet either, to go with her to the main building. “And may the Great Spirit be with you!”

“Watch yourself and come back in one piece!” Masako chimed in.

Mariah nodded to both and readied her makeshift shield, bolting across the open field with it on her left side. She met with the two Apalachee who were to escort her as they ran to the main building. They found one of its doors, but it was locked tight. Mariah pulled out a bobby pin, always carrying a few with her wherever she went. As she was focused on picking the lock, one of the Aegis bots turned the opposite corner and caught sight of them. “Trespassers, lower your weapons and stay where you are,” it uttered in a deep, robotic voice. “Obey or you will be swiftly terminated.” Mariah’s hands started to sweat and fumble with the lock as she lost focus and tried to improvise what to do next.

White-Feather must have noticed the issue because he shot a missile right at the Aegis bot. It was severely wounded, though not down for the count. But that gave Mariah all the time she needed to reconcentrate on the lock. After about another ten seconds, the door was opened. Mariah and her Apalachee companions quickly filed into the door as the Aegis bot retargeted them, barely missing with them its rifle shots. It tried a last-ditch effort to pounce on the door, but they closed it just in time before the Aegis bot could reach inside with its blades. It tried to break in, but the door material was heavily reinforced. Mariah quickly locked the door back up.



[Fallout Soundtrack – Vats of Goo]

Mariah and the two Apalachee walked carefully through the hallways of the complex’s main building, crouching down intermittently in case there were enemies nearby. As they got deeper into the building, the sounds of war outside faded further. So far, it was silent inside the base. But they had no idea where anything was in the building. All the clocks they found walking around were broken, making it difficult for them to tell how much time was passing.

“We need to figure out where the supercomputer is in here,” Mariah whispered in case there were any adversaries around, Brotherhood or robotic. “There’s got to be a map or something somewhere. Maybe a terminal. Then we can relay the information back to the leadership.”

“Maybe there’s an . . . office? Around here somewhere. That’s what outsiders call them, right?” one of the Apalachee said. His cheeks had four red stripes of war paint. “Maybe this room down the hall to the left.” It was indeed an office for a Colonel by the name of A. Jackson, judging by the nameplate on the door. This time, it was unlocked. The room also featured a terminal and a map of the complex on the Colonel’s desk.

“Perfect!” Mariah said excitedly but still at low volume in case of danger nearby. Miraculously, there was still power running through the terminal, but she needed a password. “Damn,” she lightly pounded the table. “Come on, there’s got to be something . . . aha!” She found a journal of the base’s colonel in one of the desk drawers. After thumbing through the journal, she came to its final entry. Apparently, the Colonel—despite what his status might have suggested—was a forgetful person and had to constantly have a map of the complex at his side and wrote down his password. I already have trouble remembering things at my age, and now we have to change our passwords every fricking month. Mariah read in the last journal entry, dated October 22nd, 2077. I’m a Colonel. Why should I have to? I’ll have to devise some sort of hint system or something. Not the best move to write a password down, but what else am I supposed to do? I can’t even remember where everything in this fricking complex is. The sentence after that contained the password. Mariah logged into the terminal.

As she scoured through emails and other entries, she found all sorts of interesting information. One of them talked about some tech called a G.E.C.K. Mariah wondered to herself what that could be all about, because the email itself didn’t say much about what it was or where it was going. If the GCU won the day, they would have to look through all the data. She then finally came across information about the supercomputer, so there definitely was one here. Further details noted it was somewhat similar to the ZAX supercomputers created by Vault-Tec, but obviously designed with military usage in mind. The same entry talked about the F.A.C.T. and how it was indeed supposed to make its way to Tyndall. Mariah’s jaw dropped at all the new information and how it came together. But there was no time to go through any more of the data on the terminal. “I think we got what we need, guys. Let’s move out.”

As the three of them followed the map and walked through the facility, Mariah hoped that some of the GCU squads made it inside. Mariah and her two Apalachee compatriots certainly couldn’t take on Obadiah and whoever else was with him on their own. She couldn’t help but wonder about whether Bertrand, Jacob, and Valentina survived the Brotherhood patrol that attacked them. Pessimism about their fates creeped into her mind and she had to promptly shake it off. Positive thoughts, Mariah, she started telling herself. Focus on what we need to do. But she wasn’t sure what exactly to do next.

The three of them came closer to the supercomputer’s room. A chamber above the room, protected by a set of bulletproof windows, contained the supercomputer’s primary controls. They knew they were near when the sounds of whirring and electricity got louder. Mariah feared that Obadiah was already making use of the F.A.C.T. They quickened their pace, but as they rounded another corner, two Brotherhood guards came into view, facing toward their direction. “Halt! You’ll go no further!” One of them shouted.

Mariah gasped as the Brotherhood soldiers readied their weapons. “Mariah, get out of here,” the second Apalachee, who had similar war paint to his fellow tribesman but in white, urged her.

“I can’t just leave you guys,” Mariah protested.

“My brother is right,” the red-painted Apalachee said. “You are more important to this mission. We’ll hold them off.”

“But. . .”

“Go!” He pushed her into a different connecting hallway as the two Apalachee preemptively fired on the Brotherhood, who returned the attack. Reluctantly, Mariah bolted down the corridor. She could hear four distinct yelps of pain from their direction as she ran, followed by complete silence except for the mechanical whirring. It ostensibly appeared that the Apalachee and Brotherhood had both killed each other.

Mariah had to reorient herself to her location after the detour, but she realized that she didn’t have the map anymore. She couldn’t remember if she had it and accidentally dropped it or if she had given it to one of the Apalachee. It was too late to go back to retrieve it. She did not recall where they were relatively to where she was as she focused on running away as fast as she could. Doing her best to follow what she thought she remembered on the map, she looked for location-identifying information on the walls. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath, readied her combat rifle, and walked slowly. The corridor she soon found herself in was riddled with debris, more so than the rest of the building she had explored so far, and had several connecting hallways in all directions. Mariah creeped slowly past the rubble. A couple more minutes passed by as she tried to decide which direction was the right way.

Her pondering stopped, however, as the clicking of a pistol cocking came from directly and closely behind her head. “Well, well, what do we have here?” the pistol’s wielder said. The color drained from Mariah’s face as she froze. The voice was unmistakable. She immediately recognized it.

“Gerald?”

One thing I like about your story is that I can use Google to see where everything is. Given that, have you considered making a Google Map of all the Mariah Fic sites? I did it for the Stormcrow fic, and it turned out to be really easy.

When you aren’t a member of an ingroup, you tend to be looked down on as someone in an outgroup.
Ain't that the truth.

The Aegis spider bots sound really creepy!

“Seems like a lot of things happen only in Florida!”
Seems like the Florida Man ... meme is still alive and well.

I was wondering if the Dissidents would turn up for the big final brouhaha! Cool.

Mhm, I do have a map. I posted it once or twice on here, but now that you mention it I really should just link it every new chapter. Here's the map so far. I've included some extra places not in the story that I hope to have little lore tidbits about on the map. It's also layered so you can easily tell what locations are in which region of the state. There's very little I've put up yet beyond the Panhandle, but that will come in due time.

https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?hl=en&am...8323126&z=9

Aha, you did catch my subtle reference to Florida Man.

I notice Mariah's demeanor has shifted in this new chapter. She's now not as headstrong and defiant. She's working with others now. Thank goodness for that. I was worried about her having her fingernails removed during a torture session, or whatever.

This story starts off with a lot of apprehension. And then the part when the robots start activating is really mysterious. How are they coming online? That's creepy. At least it breaks up what could have been a slam-dunk defeat for the better-equipped Brotherhood though, right?

A cliffie at the end. [censored].

Fear not, Renee, for we are resolving that cliffhanger now.

This chapter got pretty long, and it was initially going to be even longer. I was reluctant to end this chapter right where it does because I wanted the first part of the next chapter to go with this one. But I think it works out alright this way. I don't want a chapter to drag on too long but I also don't want to be too arbitrary in how it cuts.

Here is the Fallout: Florida map. https://www.google.com/maps/d/viewer?hl=en&...9550934&z=9





[Fallout Soundtrack – Radiation Storm]

“Surprised to see me, dollface?” Gerald said with his trademark smugness. He was still standing behind Mariah, but she knew the expression that was on his eminently punch-able face.

“What are you doing here, Gerald?” Mariah said, keeping her voice from trembling.

“Same reason everyone else is, of course. Put that combat rifle of yours down on the ground.” Mariah did as he said. Non-compliance wasn’t an option here and she was hoping any little bit of time she could stall for would result in somebody saving her. “Now kick it away from you.” Mariah obliged, pushing it away with her feet.

“I mean how did you even get here? You should be locked up in that cell of yours. . . . Must be the inside man you have in the GCU, right?”

Gerald chuckled, something he seemed to be quite fond of doing. “Perceptive as ever, aren’t you? I figured you would know about that, by now. Smart woman. And beautiful. Oh, what I would give to see what’s under that armor of yours. . .” Mariah shuddered at his increasing creepiness. He leaned in closer to her. “I could’ve shown you what a real man is.”

“Gerald, please,” Mariah said. “We need to stop the Brotherhood. They’re going to . . .”

“The Dissidents will take care of the Brotherhood, don’t you worry. We’re going to bury them just like the GCU. But if it makes you feel better, I’m sure we will leave your new Apalachee friends be—provided they don’t get in our way. They haven’t wronged us.” Gerald kept his gun trained on Mariah as he now walked in front of her. “I thought you were such a tough girl? Not so easy to be such a smarta--, or so strong, when you don’t have the upper hand, is it? It’s all just a show to fake your strength. Deep down. . . you’re just a scared little girl.” He placed extra emphasis on the word ‘scared.’

Mariah’s anger rose quickly, visible on her face, but she was not in a position to do anything about it. And while she knew he was trying to get in her head, a part of her couldn’t help but take his words to heart. Her mind went back to the days when she was a kid and her settlement was attacked, her family and many others being murdered by raiders, and her fleeing as she was told to do by her parents. She still felt some guilt over it. Mariah started to think that maybe he was right—that maybe she was just acting tough because she was weak on the inside. “I can see it in your face,” Gerald continued. How much you want to just pulverize me, grind me into the ground, make me pay for perceived atrocities. Can’t do that when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun.”

“Who do you have on the inside of the GCU?” Mariah asked, shaking with fear and even more so rage. “What is their name?”

“Come now, Mariah, I can’t tell you everything.” Gerald was still smiling obnoxiously.

“You’re going to shoot me anyway, so you might as well just tell me.”

Gerald thought about it for a moment. “I suppose you have a point. You have a way with speech. Helps to have that rockin’ body of yours.” Gerald appeared to be incapable of steering away from any sexual references. “Very well. I believe he is not someone you have met before, but his name is Jonathan Samuels. Not quite at the rank of what’s-his-face . . . Jacob? Yeah, that guy. But still, he isn’t some pencil pusher. He’d be in on a lot of the major decision-making when it happens.”

“And those robots turning on outside—were they your handiwork?”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m that smart.” Gerald pretended like he was going to blush. “But no, that wasn’t me. Not my wheelhouse. We have some intelligent, tech-minded men and women . . . but it wasn’t them either. But I have to say, mighty fine timing from whoever did do it. Or maybe they just came on themselves, I don’t know.” The two of them stood silent for a little while as they both thought about what to say next. “So anyway, I have a job to get back to, so this monologue is over. Sort of like those Old World movies where the villain was compelled to spurt a bunch of fancy exposition about his evil plan. But I’m no villain. You still think me delusional, a creep, a monster, but I have certain morals. While it’s a shame that I won’t get to see some . . . extra action from you, I’m not going to do anything to you physically. I won’t go that far. I’m simply going to just shoot you and be done with it. That’ll be enough to settle the score between you and I.” He readied his handgun again, aiming straight for her forehead. “I hope you’ve made your peace, Mariah. Nice knowing you.”

Mariah braced herself for what seemed to be inevitable. She closed her eyes and then flinched and gasped as a gun went off, but it wasn’t Gerald’s. When she opened her eyes, she found Gerald lying on the ground with a gaping wound in his head. He was twitching, barely able to make any sort of noise as he desperately clung to life. But he was able to turn toward his assailant, who stepped over him.

“That is for my dad, you b------!” The assailant fired her weapon into Gerald’s head once more. He was finally dead. Mariah finally got a look at who it was—Valentina.

A wave of happiness and relief overcame Mariah. “What a stroke of luck! Am I delighted to see you!” she said, giving Valentina a tight hug that she reciprocated.

“I’m happy to see you too, friend.”

“But, how did you get here?” Mariah continued, mostly relinquishing the embrace. She still had her hands clasping Valentina’s arms.

“Got separated from Commander Bertrand and Jacob’s group.” Valentina shook her head. “The Dissidents have shown up in force and are trying to take advantage of the robots cutting down Brotherhood and GCU numbers. I hid in this building with a few others after the Commander told us to get inside, but the rest of the crew with me fought with some Brotherhood soldiers in here and they told me to run for it. I can fight, you know!” Valentina said that last sentence exasperatedly. “I just need a chance.”

“Well, we certainly need each other now.” Mariah said, flashing a big grin, but it faded somewhat when she continued. “Hey . . . uh . . . I’m really sorry about leaving you back in Pensacola. I just didn’t want you to try stopping me from going to Holt. It still doesn’t excuse it, but, well, I thought you should know what I thought at the time, you know? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I understand,” Valentina said. “I just hate when my friends get into serious danger. I know that’s the way of the wastes and with the lives we live, though. But we can talk about that later. From now on . . .” Valentina walked over to Mariah’s combat rifle on the ground and picked it up, handing it back to her. “We’re a team. From now on, we fight together.”

“Absolutely,” Mariah’s said, smirking. Her resolve had returned. She readied her combat rifle. “Come on. Let’s go get the F.A.C.T.”



Mariah and Valentina made their way to the control room above the supercomputer. They crept up the flight of stairs leading up to it, finding the door to the room open. There were a couple of Brotherhood soldiers operating controls there, but they were on high alert. Fortunately, neither of them had Power Armor on. As they turned to shoot at Mariah and Valentina, the latter two were quicker on their triggers and cut the soldiers down.

“What’s going on up there? Knight Jenn? Knight John? Report,” a voice came through the intercom near the control panels. It was Obadiah’s voice. “Damn it, who’s up there? Show yourselves!”

Mariah obliged, pushing the intercom button to speak. “It’s over, Obadiah! We’re here to stop you. Give up the F.A.C.T. now.”

“Mariah,” Obadiah growled. “I warned you not to get involved further and you didn’t listen. I let you live once. I won’t make that mistake again. Regardless, you’re too late. We finally got this tech to work and put it into action. Observe from your perch up there.”

Valentina and Mariah walked to the windows overlooking the supercomputer. The F.A.C.T. was finally fully unpacked from its plain, box-shaped state. They couldn’t get the best look at it from their position, but it was one of the most futuristic-looking machines they had ever seen. It had a glass panel showcasing several blueprints of weaponry, with several sets of buttons on the sides. One of Obadiah’s henchmen pressed a couple of buttons on the machine and a surge of power emanated from inside it. In just 30 seconds, it took what looked to be rather few materials, recombined its matter, and coughed out three laser gatling weapons, generating them seemingly out of thin air. Valentina and Mariah’s jaws dropped at the sight. How could one machine do that, and so quickly?

“You see that?” Obadiah boasted. “This F.A.C.T. may be a prototype, but it is astounding what it can do. It destroys the original weapon so that it can document the design in its system, as we found out. Then you select the design that’s in there, it gives you information on what materials are needed for input, and then out come the products. It sucks up a lot of power, too, but fortunately we found some working power cores in here.” Another Knight picked up one of the laser gatlings, loaded a power core into the side, and handed it to Obadiah. “Now you see why we can’t let foolish outsiders have this tech. Wastelanders’ nature is to abuse power when they get it. And it’s the Brotherhood’s mission to prevent that.”

“You’re the one who is abusing it!” Mariah protested. “How could you have such little self-awareness?”

“I can’t make you understand, Mariah.” Obadiah simply dismissed her accusations. “You can only see the short-run. The Brotherhood understands the long-term implications of holding onto this equipment. It is our duty to rebuild civilization. And if we must cut down those who would use Pre-War tech for their own selfish ends, then so be it.”

Valentina wanted to take a turn on the intercom. “The GCU is going to win in the end, Obadiah! You’re a psychopath, and we’re going to dig your grave.”

Obadiah scoffed. “Got a GCU dog to tag along with you, Mariah? That’s a shame that you brought someone else here to die. Paladin Allen, Paladin Valerie—end them. Then secure the F.A.C.T. Paladin Victor and Paladin Sharice, you stay here with the F.A.C.T. in case company arrives—GCU or Dissident. And terminate them with extreme prejudice.” Obadiah was aware that the Dissidents were in the vicinity.

“Ad victoriam!” All of the paladins shouted in unison, saluting Obadiah and tending to their orders. Another subordinate suddenly contacted him.

“Sir, incoming squads of Dissidents and GCU!” A frantic voice called from a different intercom. “Russell is with the Dissidents and the GCU is led by Bertrand. They’re—" The voice was cut off by gunfire.

After a few moments of silence on the other end, Captain Russell’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Looks like we have a party starting up soon. We still got a score to settle, Obadiah, and I still got that one-way ticket to hell with your name on it. I’m delivering it to you personally.”

Obadiah led out an especially angry and drawn-out ‘argh.’ “I’m finally going to put you six feet under, Russell. Maybe deeper so no one ever finds your body,” he stated angrily. “I’ll make examples out of you and Bertrand.”

“The two of you better be ready to pay for your sins at Birmingham. It’s been a long time coming. And I hope you can hear this too, Bertrand. Death comes for the two of you S.O.B.s in a hail of bullets.” And with that, Russell cut off comms. The imminence of a final three-way showdown was palpable throughout the place.

“Paladins Allen and Valerie, you still have your orders,” Obadiah barked. “Kill Mariah and her pal up there.” The two Paladins immediately turned to head toward the main control room.

“Damn it, we can’t take on those Paladins,” Valentina said, fidgeting around trying to figure out something to do. “There, use the furniture along the wall to barricade the entry. These dead Knights have some superior weapons to what we have, so we can use those as a last resort. But I need you to cover me while I work some magic.”

“What are you going to do?” Mariah said as she started cordoning off the doorway.

“I’ve never had a chance to show you, and only a few chances to show to Commander Bertrand and others, but I’ve got a knack for computers. These things have always fascinated me ever since I first saw a terminal. This looks tougher than anything I’ve worked with, but I’m going to make it work. This looks like it might have control over the entire facility, so I may be able to reprogram the automatons outside. And I know what you’re capable of. We’ll get through this.” Valentina got to clacking away on buttons and keyboards. If Mariah had any lack of confidence then, Valentina’s positive attitude brushed it away.

Mariah picked up an automatic laser rifle from one of the dead Brotherhood Knights and attached some of the microfusion cells to her belt. She loaded it, ready to fire when needed. Bertrand’s voice finally patched through to Mariah’s radio. “Mariah? Mariah? Please respond! Are you there?”

“Commander!” Mariah replied. “You’re alive! Yes, Val and I are together, but we have a couple of Brotherhood Paladins heading our way. We’re in the main control room above the supercomputer and Obadiah has already used the F.A.C.T. And Russell and some Dissidents are coming, too.”

“Damn it,” Bertrand said. “So our showdown is finally happening. We’ll try to send you some help, but our numbers are low. What are their numbers like?”

“Obadiah only has four people left, but two of them are coming for us. I don’t know how many Dissidents are coming.”

“Commander Bertrand, you’re okay!” Valentina said, joining the conversation. “I’m doing my best seeing if I can get this supercomputer to help us out, but Mariah and I need help. Is Jacob fine?”

“It is good to hear your voice, Val. Yes, I’ll send him to help you out. We’re trying to follow maps and signs on the walls to where you are. Hang in there!” Bertrand hung up.

Barely a moment after Bertrand finished, Mariah could hear those Paladins, Allen and Valerie, stomping in their Power Armor up the stairs. Even with the suits, they couldn’t physically bust the door down with the barricade there. “Stand back, Paladin Valerie,” Allen said. The sound of a gatling laser spinning was quickly followed by laser rounds being pumped out to cut through the door and the makeshift barriers. The door was reinforced, but it wouldn’t stand for long.

“Uh, Val,” Mariah nervously said. “They’re getting through. We really need that magic of yours now.”

“I’ve almost got something, but I have to concentrate, Mariah!” Valentina said with some frustration at the interruption. The Paladins were almost through. “Aha! There are some turrets online inside this facility that I can access from here . . . this one should do it for us.” A turret could be heard emerging in the hallway that started rapidly firing on the Paladins. They shot it down, but not before it did serious damage to their already weakened suits.

“Impressive trick you pulled off, but you just delay the inevitable, scum,” Paladin Valerie taunted Mariah and Valentina. “Let’s get ‘em, Allen.” They soon pushed through the barricade, and Mariah uncorked an entire round’s worth of fusion cells into the doorway to push them back, cutting through more Power Armor. The Paladins had to retreat into the hall. “Enemy on our six!” Valerie suddenly cried out. What sounded like an automatic combat rifle was being unloaded on the Paladins. As they were preoccupied, Mariah reloaded her auto laser rifle, poked her head out of the doorway, and shot at them too. Weakened points in their armor gave way, and with the combined force of Mariah and this other assailant, the two Paladins were killed. Yet Mariah wasn’t sure if this was a truly friendly combatant, who was also clad in Power Armor, so she waited for them to make any moves.

“Hold your fire, Mariah,” the individual said. He held his weapon to his side and pulled his helmet off. “It’s me, Jacob.”

Mariah let out one of the heaviest sighs of relief in her life. “You’re a lifesaver, Jacob. Val will be ecstatic to see you, too.”

“Jacob!” Valentina called out, still examining the computer screens in front of her. “Impeccable timing. This computer seems to control and override just about anything in this building, and I’ve got the automatons on our side . . . right . . . now!” A block of green text on the screen scrolled onto the screen, accompanied by a robotic voice from the computer reading it out loud: ‘Defensive Automaton Targeting Systems recalibrated. New enemy target descriptions uploaded. New enemy targets engaged.’ The enemy target descriptions matched that of the Brotherhood and the Dissidents.

Jacob attempted to call Lieutenant Carmichael. “Lieutenant! Can you hear me? Lieutenant! It’s Jacob!”

Carmichael responded, “This better be good, Jacob. It’s a bloodbath out here.” Gunfire was audible through the radio.

“It is, Lieutenant. One of my soldiers, Valentina, made it into the base and it looks like she reprogrammed the robots to attack just Brotherhood and Dissidents.”

The Lieutenant didn’t respond initially. After about a minute, he called back, “Holy s---, stop firing on the robots! GCU and Apalachee personnel, I repeat, stop firing on the robots! They’re only attacking our adversaries now!” Carmichael turned his attention back to Jacob, his voice in utter disbelief. “You’re right, they just suddenly stopped shooting at us. I don’t know how you all pulled this off, but you’re a bunch of fricking miracle workers.”

“You can thank Valentina and Mariah for that,” Jacob replied. “Valentina worked absolute magic with the main computer and Mariah, well, she simply delivered again. I don’t know if it’s Luck or what, but she seems to be Providence incarnate.”

“Well done to you two ladies, but we still got a fight out here. I imagine you still have one in there, too. This ain’t over but it looks like the tide might be turning. Carmichael out.”

After Carmichael ended his message, Obadiah bellowed into the intercom again with such fury that he started fumbling words, including every profanity that he could think of. He was uncharacteristically unhinged. “I will make sure every f------ one of you feels agony and suffering and, and, anguish, and torm—, torment the likes of which you have never felt! Take . . . this!” Obadiah threw a couple plasma grenades at the room’s window overlooking the F.A.C.T.

“Get down!” Jacob yelled, shielding Mariah and Valentina from the blast. His Power Armor took a lot of damage, but it still protected him as he saved the two women.

“I got a lot more where those came from, folks!” Obadiah screamed. He only seemed to get increasingly irate with each passing second. “I still have the F.A.C.T. and I can create a whole lot more of those! I’ll—” He was cut off as a door from a high-up balcony loudly burst open. It was Captain Russell and a couple of his Dissident minions. One of them was Brendan, Russell’s lackey who was supposed to keep Mariah from escaping the Dissidents in the Fusion! factory. He was still bandaged in the places where Mariah injured him.

“Well, I was hoping Bertrand would be here by now. But what’s this?” Captain Russell said as he saw Mariah all the way across the room. Their positions were at about the same height from the ground. “Mariah! How lovely to see you again. Should have taken the chance to join the winning side when I offered it. Now you get to be slaughtered just like all these other pigs.” It was right then that Bertrand came into the room with a couple of GCU officers in tow. His position was on the same level of the floor as Obadiah’s. “And speak of the devil himself,” Russell continued. “It’s just like one of those old movies I watched when I was a little boy, before and just after the bombs. A final showdown between old foes, ready to put an end to long-simmering hostilities. I used to imagine myself in the situation of the hero, and now I get to actually live it! Destiny smiles upon me, scumbags! Time for your penance!”

“The Dissidents and the Brotherhood die today.” Bertrand retorted. “The only crimes here are those which your two organizations have committed, and the penalty is death by my firing squad. The GCU is the best hope for these wastes and it is here to stay. And I’m all. Out of. Mercy.” Bertrand added with livid emphasis, loading his weapon.

“You two morons forgot who has the upper hand here,” Obadiah said, reminding them that he still had the F.A.C.T. “I’ve already seen what this tech can do, and there is no way I will let it fall into the hands of miscreants and reprobates. There are 206 bones in the adult body, and I will break every f------ one of them in all of yours before I am done! Now, enough with this dialogue. I’m sick of your voices.”

[Fallout Soundtrack – Flames of the Ancient World]

“Imagine that. Something we can all agree on,” Russell said. “I’ve had enough of hearing you, too. Die, you filthy degenerates!” Russell and his two cohorts immediately booked for the stairwell connected to their balcony, shelling the positions of Bertrand and Obadiah, along with their soldiers, thoroughly enough that the latter two groups had to find cover behind whatever debris or standing tech that they could. It was an even three versus three versus three for the three factions.

“We need to get the F.A.C.T. shut down now, Val!” Jacob said. “We can’t let Obadiah use it anymore. Can you turn it off?”

“I’ll try! I should be able to do that, but this mainframe isn’t making it easy. The Brotherhood must have spent a long time trying to get this thing to work.” Val said as she returned to rapidly pressing keys.

“I’ll go down and help Bertrand,” Mariah said.

Jacob grabbed her left arm before she could leave. “No, Mariah. You’ll get eviscerated down there. Stay here with Val and help her in any way you can. Defend this position if anyone comes,” Jacob said, re-equipping his helmet. “I have a lot more protection right now than you do, so I’m going to help the Commander. We will win this, just stay put for now.” He then sprinted out of the room, his Power Armor causing tangible trembling in the floor. Mariah was frustrated, but she knew Jacob was right.

“Obadiah, quit hiding behind your suit, you coward!” Russell chastised the Brotherhood leader. “Fight like a real man, for once!” Debris from computers and furniture were flying all over the place.

“Says the man who constantly defers to guerilla tactics and ambushes!” Obadiah shouted back, revving up his gatling laser and firing away on the Dissident position, chipping away at their defense.

Bertrand, for his part, was waiting for any opening. Paladin Victor started marching on his spot, putting too much faith in his Power Armor to protect him while trying to pin the GCU down with gunfire. Bertrand maneuvered behind another pile of rubble and started pelting the Paladin’s armor. When the Paladin was distracted with Bertrand, one of the other GCU soldiers popped out of cover and started shooting the weakened points of armor. The Paladin made an effort to retreat to cover and lob a plasma grenade at the GCU, but as Victor tried to pull the pin the other GCU soldier inadvertently shot the grenade before it was thrown. Paladin Victor was emulsified into a green goo before he could react. That same GCU fighter, however, was quickly shot dead by one of the Dissidents. All these events happened in less than half-a-minute. A couple of errors cost two of the factions one of their combatants. Russell and the Dissidents now had the upper hand.

“Take that, you carpetbaggers!” Russell said, cackling. “That’s some wasteland justice right there, and we ain’t finished yet!”

Mariah was getting restless standing around, feeling like she wasn’t doing anything. Her impulsive nature was starting to get the better of her, though instead of rushing down to the battlefield, she crawled up to the edge of the control room overlooking the combat, where it was blown open by Obadiah’s grenades. She found a vantage point where she could take out one of the Dissidents. She unloaded her automatic laser rifle at him, burning him severely before it quickly killed him. Brendan, the other Dissident, saw what she was up to and started shooting her way. She was barely able to retreat in time.

“Mariah, stop! You’re going to get yourself killed!” Valentina pleaded with her.

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing, Val! And I don’t know these anything about these electronics even close to what you do. I’m useless right now,” Mariah said.

“No, you’re not. We wouldn’t be in this position to win without you. It is okay to stay put once in a while, you know.” Valentina assured her. Mariah felt slightly ashamed as she thought about her reckless actions again. That impulsive nature of hers couldn’t be suppressed all the time. “Hang on! I think I got it! Yes!”

The computer mainframe read out loud a new message. ‘Rerouting power. Connection to FABRICATION ACCELERATOR FOR COMBAT TECHNOLOGY offline. Mainframe shutting down.’ The visible surge of energy that was present in the F.A.C.T. dissipated.

Obadiah’s following outburst was a series of angry, unintelligible sounds rather than coherent sentences. But he did regain the ability to speak in an understandable fashion. “I will skin all of you and hang your corpses for everyone to see! The F.A.C.T. is mine! MINE!” Even his living Paladin subordinate, Sharice, was uncomfortable being next to him. “Just you wait, all of you are going to feel—.” He stopped blathering when he discovered his gatling laser’s power core was empty. The power core in his Power Armor was also depleted. He had been so focused on keeping the F.A.C.T. in his hands that he didn’t pay attention to his dwindling supplies. Obadiah got out of the suit since it was near useless now and switched to an assault rifle. Everyone exchanged gunfire for another couple of minutes, and by the end of that series the three faction leaders were the only ones left standing. Paladin Sharice, Brendan, and the other GCU soldier all had been riddled with bullets. There was now little cover left to take. Each of the leaders was waiting for someone else to make the next move.

“Both of you will suffer for the lives of my men and women cut down. I’m right on the cusp of my storybook ending, and I’ll be damned if either one of you takes it from me,” Russell said. He was less sardonic and angrier now. “The Brotherhood will soon be dead and the head of the GCU serpent will be severed.”

There was some shooting going on outside of the room. Mariah hoped it wasn’t reinforcements for Obadiah or Russell. She was going to take it upon herself to get involved again, but with a bit of a different tactic. She gave Val a signal to keep quiet and come with her as they went to the doorway that led into the control room and, as quietly as possible, contacted Bertrand. “Psst, Commander.” The shooting outside would help mask their conversation.

Bertrand was very annoyed at the interruption. He replied at a low volume as well. “Mariah, this is REALLY not a good time right now, you know.”

“No, please, Commander, listen. I have an idea to—”

“Mariah, whatever thought it is, forget it. You are not getting involved here. This is not your fight and I am not going to have you endanger yourself more than you already have.”

“I’m not jumping down there or anything, I promise. But I got an idea to break you out of this stalemate.” The bodies of Paladins Valerie and Allen that were still up with the two women still possessed two frag grenades that Mariah discovered. She discussed with Valentina and Bertrand what she was thinking, but Bertrand immediately rejected the notion.

“Forget it. You could still get shot. You are not getting involved in this anymore. If I have to die, then—”

“With all due respect, Commander, I don’t think you have any better ideas.” Just as Bertrand was adamant about her staying put, Mariah was as steadfast. “Please trust me on this.”

“Mariah . . . ugh, damn your hardheadedness. Fine. But do NOT put yourself in a position where Russell can shoot you. The only thing he’d love more than that is to perforate my body with lead.”

Russell, for his part, went back to trash-talking, attempting to get Obadiah or Bertrand to overreact. “Come on, men. You scared to die? You should be. I’ve been at this since before either of you dung-eaters were even born. As long as I cripple the Brotherhood and the GCU, me dying is just fine. My life’s work will be complete. You only delay the inevitable now. Get out here so I can finally end the both of you.”

“Shut your f------ mouth, Russell,” Obadiah berated him, seething so intensely that his body could practically explode with all his pent-up anger. “And you’re awfully quiet, Bertrand. Finally realized you’re in over your head?”

“I don’t need to say anything more until I’m through with the two of you,” Bertrand snapped. “I’m a man of action, not talk.”

“Maybe that’s your problem, Bertrand,” Russell chided him. “If you stopped to think and talk things through once in a while, maybe you wouldn’t constantly screw up. Maybe you wouldn’t have been to so quick to murder my fellow citizens.”

“A murderer claiming somebody else is a murderer? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You’ll say and do anything to rationalize your actions. You’re a wannabe arbiter of justice. We did NOT murder anyone at Birmingham.”

“You two demonstrate once again why the Brotherhood is the only hope these wastes have. Both of your nations act tough on the outside, but inside you know they hang by mere threads,” Obadiah said. “They’re unstable, ready to eat themselves up from the inside, continually squabbling, and barely able to repel outside forces.”

Russell always had a remark ready, and this time was no different. “This coming from the guy whose organization doesn’t even have a nation. Ha! Should’ve taken up comedy instead of this line of work, Obadiah. You’re a funny guy. But I’m cutting this career of yours short.” Their constant bicker made for a good distraction for Mariah’s plan to work. On her signal, Valentina lobbed one of the grenades to Russell’s position while Mariah shot her laser rifle his way to pin him down. “Son of a . . . damn you, Mariah!” He yelled. As the grenade exploded, all that she could see was a giant pile of wreckage. Russell’s snarkiness had ceased.

As that happened, Valentina lightly tossed the other grenade just over the ledge to where Obadiah was. When it clinked on the ground, Obadiah instinctively reacted by running away from it, though there was no other place to scatter to then out in the open. He figured he would try shooting at where Bertrand so that he couldn’t shoot back, but the grenade’s explosion was close enough to cause him to stumble and involuntarily try to protect his eardrum closest to it. It gave Bertrand the window of opportunity to unload the rest of his rounds into Obadiah, who had no more Power Armor to protect him. Obadiah dropped to his knees, gurgling blood, and clutching his chest while he dropped his remaining gun. “I’m . . . sorry . . . Elder Maxson. . . . Long live . . . the Brotherhood.” He then slumped forward to the ground—dead.

Jacob finally made it into the room, ready to fire on the enemies. “Stand down, Jacob,” Bertrand raised his hand. “They’re gone. Russell and Obadiah . . . they’re finished.” He was breathing heavily, exhausted from the events of the day. Valentina and Mariah hugged each other and cheered as the four of them emerged victorious. Bertrand let out a rare laugh. “Easy there, ladies. We aren’t out of the . . . woods yet. Come on down here . . . if the coast is clear.”

“I was met by unexpected hostiles in the halls, but they should be clear. Still, be careful, ladies.” Valentina and Mariah rushed down there as quickly as they could, still wary of potential foes coming out of the woodwork. Nobody came, so they made it down to the floor with Jacob and Bertrand. Both women embraced Bertrand. He grimaced at the pain at first, then laughed again and reciprocated.

“Mariah, you’re our angel . . . once again,” Bertrand thanked her. He was still breathing hard. “You did good. No . . . you did fantastically. And Val . . . to say you went . . . above and beyond . . . is an understatement. I’m sorry I haven’t . . . given you more chances to . . . demonstrate your prowess.”

“I’m just happy you made it, Commander,” Valentina said.

Bertrand finally caught his breath. “Well, we’re not out of the woods yet. We need to see how our comrades are doing outside. Jacob, secure the F.A.C.T. If there are still some Brotherhood and Dissident stragglers, when they see this in our possession and hear that their respective leaders are dead, they’ll be quick to surrender. Mariah and Val, I need you to—”

Three gunshots rang out, hitting Bertrand in the back. “Commander!” Valentina and Mariah shrieked, their faces in shock. Jacob grabbed Bertrand before he hit the floor. They turned to see who the assailant was.

It was Russell.

The cockroach managed to crawl gingerly and quietly out of the rubble. He was bloodied all over and in immense pain, but he made it out to pull one last trick. The best he could expel was a snicker. “You can’t . . . kill the Dissidents. We will . . . be free.” He tried to use whatever ounces of energy he had left to reload his weapon to try to shoot the rest of the group. In a blind rage, Jacob laid Bertrand down gently on the floor and rushed toward Russell. Russell managed to reload his gun and shoot at Jacob, but his Power Armor was still in decent shape despite being marred by his battle in the halls. He kicked the gun out of Russell’s hand, grabbed him by the throat, and shoved him up on a wall. For the first time, Mariah could see a look of fear on Russell’s face—and it would be the last. Jacob reeled back his right fist and whaled into Russell’s head, beating it into a bloody pulp. His face became unrecognizable, but Jacob still kept punching him. Russell got away before, but he was most certainly dead now.

Even Mariah and Val couldn’t take it, having to look away from Russell’s remains for fear of vomiting with how viciously Jacob beat him. “Jacob, please! He’s dead! Stop!” Valentina cried out. Even Mariah had to plead with him to cease. Bertrand, however, was still gasping for life. Jacob came back to his senses, tossed Russell’s body to the side, and rushed back to the group.

“Commander, I, I, I still have my Stimpaks,” Mariah said, taking one out as she stuttered. She had one out before Bertrand put his hand up.

“No, Mariah . . . it won’t work. You can still . . . use them for yourself,” Bertrand barely had the strength to speak.

“You’re dying! I can still save you!”

“Mariah, please,” Bertrand grabbed her hand. “You’ve done enough here. It’s . . . my time. My wounds are too great. It’s okay. I did . . . what I set out to do.”

“Commander. You can’t . . .” Jacob’s said, his voice trembling. He took his helmet off. Save for his anger she saw when Gerald was being interrogated by him and Bertrand, this was the only time Mariah could think of where she saw emotion from Jacob.

“You’re the commander now, Jacob. You will just refer to me as Emmanuel now. Or . . . Bertrand. But I’m not your superior officer anymore.” GCU commanders sometimes went by their first names with their title while others went by their last name. “We knew this day would come . . . at some point. Just would have been nice if . . . it was because of retirement. But I’ve . . . lived a good life. I can’t overstate . . . how proud I am . . . of all three of you.” Tears were streaming down everyone’s faces at this point. “I count you all among my legitimate friends. Even if I . . . had to interact with you as a . . . commanding officer only.”

“Commander Bertrand . . .” Mariah said, her voice breaking.

“I know there’s big things waiting for you, Mariah. And you, Val. And Jacob . . . you’re ready. I’m . . . at . . . peace. Goodbye. I’ll see you soon . . . Marisol.” Bertrand’s breathing slowed until it finally stopped. Jacob checked his pulse even though he knew what the result would be. Bertrand was gone. Death came for Obadiah and Russell first, but for the survivors it felt like a pyrrhic victory.

Jacob, Valentina, and Mariah simply sat there, silently sobbing. A lengthy moment passed before the silence was gently broken. The facility started to lightly tremble as tiny bits of dust and other debris drifted down to the ground. Lieutenant Carmichael called into their radios. “I hope to God every one of you in there is still alive and has some more miracles left in them. We’ve just about finished off the Brotherhood and Dissidents but we’re now all in a deep pile of s--- because we’ve got a dreadnaught coming our way. For the love of everything, please tell me this place has some more defenses left over, because these remaining robots aren’t going to cut it. Otherwise, everyone living is screwed regardless of which side they are on.” A sudden roar was heard echoing throughout the facility and on their radios.

Dreadnaught. That was the creature Carmichael told Mariah about.

“We’re on it, Lieutenant,” Jacob replied. “Alright, Mariah and Val. We’ve still got work to do. We will come back for Comm. . . Emmanuel Bertrand after the Battle of Tyndall Air Force Base is over. Val, I need you to get back to that computer and see if there are any turrets or robots or whatever that we can power up. Anything that you can find. That machine seems to be able to control everything electronic in this facility, at least the major things, even if an override is needed.”

“You got it, Jac—, er, yes, Commander,” Valentina said, rushing back up to the control room.

“Mariah, take this Power Armor.” Jacob attached the helmet back to the rest of the suit and then stepped out of it. “I need you to get outside and help out the rest of our people with whatever they require.”

“But won’t you need this?” Mariah asked.

“You need it more than I do. I’ll secure the F.A.C.T. and provide cover for Val if absolutely necessary, but I’m certain—well, mostly sure—that all threats in this building are gone.”

“I have no idea how to use this thing!” Mariah protested. She had witnessed only a few suits of Power Armor, let alone stepped inside one. It was an intimidating set of equipment.

“You’ll get the hang of it, trust me. It takes a bit of getting used to, but you’ll get the hang of it. And you always deliver when we need it most.” Jacob put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. While Mariah was still a bit hesitant, his belief in her instilled her with enough confidence.

“I won’t let you down,” Mariah said as she stepped into it.

“I know you won’t,” Jacob said. Mariah felt awkward in the Power Armor at first, but just entering it gave her a feeling of incredible strength. It would take a bit of practice to use to its fullest potential. She rushed out of the room as quickly as she could, trying to get the hang of the suit as she went.

Gerald the creep is gone, thank the Nine Gods. I wonder if this Jonathan Samuels is also Jonah, that guy from the New Church who was mentioned earlier.

Okay, finally we see the F.A.C.T. in action. It does indeed create something into something, apparently from nothing. How weird. Didn't somebody say this is similar to some device in Star Trek?

Val starts controlling all the robots, how hilarious.



Not including the Apalachee. Where are they during all this? Well I guess it doesn't matter. All three leaders lost their lives. Good lord.

@Renee - Nope, Jonah is not part of the GCU. That's all I'll say about him for now.

As for the F.A.C.T. it isn't quite from nothing. As Obadiah indicates, it needs a weapon to deconstruct the matter of for a blueprint, but making subsequent weapons requires significantly less materials and significantly less time to make it. Almost instantaneous. It's only a taste of its potential.

And if you want a little spoiler that isn't really much of a spoiler but does hint at the future...


And you will see about the Apalachee right about now.





With the end of the years merely hours away, it's a perfect time to finally finish part 1 of the Fallout: Florida saga! It's frustrating that it is taking so long to write the whole thing. I really want to show all the story beats that I have planned ASAP. I have the basics of the story in notes and in my head, but the finer details are what need to be developed.

To be honest, there's something about my writing at a few pieces of this chapter that I don't like, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is. Sentence structure? The flow of it? Dialogue? I don't know. Maybe it's just the whole "you are your own worst critic" kind of thing. I do that a ton. But I do think this is good enough to publish. And I want to have it out as a send-off to the first part of the entire saga on New Year's Eve. A turning-over-a-new-leaf in multiple ways, as you will see.

So, without further ado, here's the last chapter dealing with the Panhandle. The adventure has only just begun.







Mariah went out a different door than she used to enter the building. She had been in there for so long that she had to reorient herself to where everything outside was. As she got around to the front where the battlefield was, she saw that all the combatants had retreated to their sides as a hulking beast came from her opposite direction. It was the Dreadnaught.

Mariah was stunned at the sight. She hadn’t seen any creature like it before. Coming from the Gulf of Mexico, which Tyndall was right on the coast of, it had been alerted by all the noise from the warfare. The only descriptions that Carmichael gave back in Panama City were not vivid, but they were accurate—it was a giant turtle-like creature. The shell of the monster was dotted by barnacles, algae, and moss. The face was still sort of turtle-shaped, but it had rows of sharp teeth similar to that of a shark. The tail was scaled and long. It had tough skin and an even tougher shell. A reddish hue ran along most of its skin and shell. And lastly, that loud roar it belted out was unnatural. How such an unholy amalgamation came to exist was confounding.

What was readily apparent was every living person at Tyndall was terrified of the behemoth. It was fortunate that the creature was still slow-moving because it was extremely resilient to attacks. While it would react in anguish at some of the gunfire, it still kept moving. It already destroyed much of what remained of a few buildings, and it was going to make it to the main part of the complex soon. Sometimes it would swing its tail to attack prey. Other times, it swung its head or chomped. And still other times, it could store water in its body to spew out and knock down opponents with extreme force. It already used those abilities on Brotherhood, Dissidents, GCU, and Apalachee alike.

Mariah had no clue what she was supposed to do against a beast like this as all of the factions were hunkered down on their respective sides. Mariah got a glimpse of the GCU side and took off her helmet briefly to show it was her. “Mariah! You’re alive!” Commander Masako called out to her. “Quickly, help us bring our wounded out of here! This monster has taken a serious beating, but it is still going, and we need to get our soldiers out of here.” The Dreadnaught had suffered many wounds, but it didn’t seem like it was that close to dying. The fiend was baring down on the wounded combatants, shaking the ground as it kept moving. It didn’t feel like anyone here was going to make it out alive.

Mariah tended to her orders. Thanks to her newfound strength in the Power Armor, she was able to carry away seriously injured GCU and Apalachee fighters. The creature thrashed around as the last few operational turrets popped out of their hiding spots, undoubtedly the work of Valentina. But they would do little but distract the creature. As they were in the process of reloading, the Dreadnaught took out the ones it could reach with its head or tail. For the last couple that were too far away, it spouted a deluge of water that was so forceful it separated the turrets from their bases. They were the last of the base’s functioning defenses.

Mariah ran to get the last couple of wounded soldiers when the Dreadnaught turned its attention to her. She froze in fear when they locked eyes. As it charged after her, she fired her combat rifle as fast as she could, though it was in vain. It viciously headbutted her, sending her flying 20 feet back and knocking the wind out of her. If Mariah didn’t have the Power Armor, she would most certainly have been killed by the sheer force. She lifted her head up to see the monster draw closer. It was getting ready to charge.

“Face me, you beast!” A voice called out to the Dreadnaught. It was Chief White-Feather, and he was carrying a Fat Man. When the Dreadnaught crashed into one of the buildings, it broke open the walls into an armory that otherwise would have been near impossible to break into. When the monster turned toward the voice, Chief-Feather shouted a war cry and launched a mini-nuke square at its head. The creature roared in anguish one last time, gurgling as a large chunk of its head was blown off. It slumped toward one side. For a moment, everyone was afraid it was still going to move after the hammering it had taken, but it stopped moving and breathing. The Dreadnaught was finally finished.

The Battle of Tyndall, at long last, was over. The GCU and the Apalachee were officially victorious.

Mariah recovered enough to pick herself up gingerly, the Power Armor critically damaged. The remaining Brotherhood and Dissidents, their numbers depleted, had surrendered. She was breathing heavily, some of it in relief. She looked around at the devastation caused at the base. So many lives lost over one piece of technology, albeit a powerful one. Tyndall still held plenty of secrets to uncover. Luckily, however, the GCU and Apalachee wouldn’t have to fight someone for them.

As she gently walked back towards her comrades, Mariah couldn’t help but feel she was being watched from afar. As she stopped and turned around, there was man standing on a hill, far enough from the action but still close enough to survey the events with the naked eye. He had his arms folded, wearing a large black coat. The bottom part flared out slightly from the top and was open in the front. He was a rather stereotypical mysterious-looking person, but she could see enough of his face to know it wasn’t someone she had ever seen before. Why in the world would somebody be wearing something like that in the Florida heat? It wasn’t as hot as many other days were since Mariah arrived, but it was still Florida in the summer.

As Mariah and the man in the black coat locked eyes for a few seconds, the man simply unfolded his arms and strolled away like nothing happened. She wanted to go after him to see what was up, but she was exhausted, and she had to report back to her allies.

“You sure saved us in the nick of time, Chief,” Mariah said as she returned, grimacing in pain. “Thanks for saving my hide.”

“The Dreadnaught unwittingly provided us with the means to defeat him, breaking open that armory. Truly, the Great Spirit was with us.”

“Well, whatever the case may be, we won,” Masako said. “But I can’t help but feel like the cost may have been too great. We lost a lot of fine men and women today.”

“It had to be done, Masako,” Lieutenant Carmichael said, stepping forward. He put a hand on her shoulder. “The F.A.C.T. was too important to let it continue to be in the wrong hands. I’ll see to it that our soldiers' sacrifices are remembered.”

Mariah wanted to rest, but she remembered that there was one other issue she had to resolve. “Wait, I almost forgot. Do you guys personally know a man named Jonathan Samuels?”

Carmichael scratched his chin as he racked his brain. “Oh yes, he’s one of Bertrand’s higher-ranking officers. Hard to keep track of all the officers below the seconds-in-command in each division sometimes. You’ll find him with Bertrand, I’m sure.”

“No,” Mariah said, her voice coming close to breaking at the mention of Bertrand’s name. “Commander Bertrand is . . . he’s gone. I was with him in the end . . . along with Valentina and Jacob . . . well, Commander Jacob now, I guess.” A dark pall fell over the group. No one was sure what to say next. Even Carmichael’s rough exterior let down. “But wait, if Samuels is not here, then where?”

“Why do you need to know this, Mariah? What is so important about him?”

“He’s the traitor!” Mariah suddenly blurted, startling the group. She explained her encounter with Gerald and what he told her.

“I’m not sure we can trust what a Dissident has to say, though,” Carmichael said. “He could have been totally screwing with us. But if that’s the case, then . . . oh, my God.”

[Fallout Soundtrack – Followers’ Credo]

They turned to find a soldier limping and bleeding heavily towards them. “Lieutenant!” The soldier gasped. “Lieutenant, we’ve been betrayed!”

“Slow down, soldier. Someone get a medic here right now!” Carmichael ordered. “What are you talking about, soldier? Stay calm.”

“One of our own, sir.” The GCU soldier was having to stop every several words to catch his breath. “We found him communicating with the Dissidents when he thought he was alone, and he shot all of us. I had to play dead, but all of my buddies are actually dead. It was . . .”

“Johnathan Samuels,” Mariah finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah, actually,” the soldier replied, stunned that she knew what name he was going to say. “Yeah, Corporal Samuels.”

“We have to warn Commander Jacob and Valentina! He’s probably going after the F.A.C.T. in a last-ditch effort!”

“S---, you were right, Mariah. We need to contact them right now.” Carmichael said, tuning the radio to the correct frequency again. “Jacob, do you read me? Jacob!”

Valentina answered on the other end. “Yeah, we’re here. But Jacob was wounded pretty badly. I’m patching him up right now, but the assailant stole the F.A.C.T. We don’t know where he went and we didn’t get a good look at him, but he wore . . . a GCU outfit.”

“That’s got to be Samuels, then, the b------. We almost lost a second commander today after just losing his own commander. Stay put, Val. We’re sending people to your location. Mariah, do you have enough left in the tank to help us pursue Samuels?”

“I think so,” Mariah answered. She was exhausted, but the rush of adrenaline gave her what she hoped was enough of a second wind. And she wasn’t going to let Samuels get away with his crimes.

“Alright, troops!” Carmichael called out to everyone. “Make sure we have the Brotherhood and Dissidents all rounded up and cuffed. I need some of you to secure the area. One of our own is working with the Dissidents still and he’s about to make out of here with our main objective. Now!” He started picking out a few soldiers to go with Mariah. “Chief, can you go with them?”

White-Feather nodded. “Let’s go and finish this, Mariah.” Mariah gave a thumbs up and retrieved her combat rifle.



Mariah, White-Feather, and a group of GCU and Apalachee fighters in tow heard a door burst open right before they reached the back of Tyndall’s main building. The man that must have been Samuels was trying to run as fast as he could with the bulky F.A.C.T., which had by now reverted to its boxed state. He heard everyone chasing him, and with his free hand shot at them with a submachine gun, slowing down his chasers but missing them with his bullets. He was still out in the open, and with Mariah’s crew still in hot pursuit he had no choice but to duck into a hangar with several dilapidated fighter jets. They had him cornered.

“It’s over, Samuels! You’re not getting out of this one. We know all about you.” White-Feather shouted at him.

“As long as I’m alive, it ain’t over,” Samuels called back. “You may have won today, but you’ll never stamp us out. Our day will come.”

“Why’d you do it?” Mariah asked incredulously. “You were supposed to be one of the GCU, and you betrayed everyone here. A ton of people died here today because of you. They might have made it out of here alive if not for you.”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Samuels wryly replied. “Hurts to have so many of your people die. Now you get to experience it. You know nothing about me, little Ms. Hero.”

“Care to enlighten me, then?” Mariah mostly just wanted to shoot him when she had the chance. Yet she also desired—no, needed—to know why he did it.

Samuels thought about whether to entertain the question. He finally relented after deciding that it was necessary to justify himself. “I come from the Birmingham area. About five or so years ago, I joined the GCU. Back then, I was fully conned into buying into what the GCU was selling. I thought the Dissidents were just a bunch of arrogant blowhards that didn’t want to play nice with everyone else. At the time, I thought the GCU was looking to unite everyone across the wastes under one banner, trying to rebuild civilization and make things better.

“And then the Birmingham incident happened. Countless friends and family of mine massacred who had nothing to do with any issues the GCU was involved in. That’s when the Union showed its true colors. The façade was broken. It wasn’t about unity for them. It was about control, power, forcibly instilling its own vision like they had some sort of divine right to everyone’s territory. I finally understood what the Dissidents were about: Freedom. Sovereignty. Self-determination. Any hope for widespread unification died when the world did. I eventually met with Captain Russell and other leadership, and we figured that me staying as an officer in the GCU would be more conducive to our goals. So, I waited. I moved up the ranks to Corporal. I became more ingrained in the strategy and tactics of the higher-ups in the GCU. And we finally started turning the tide in our favor. Even when you came along, Ms. Hero, we were still coming so close to our goals.

“But now, obviously, we’ve hit some serious setbacks. Yet like they say: It ain’t over ‘til it’s over. And I’ll be damned if I let you take this from me. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am now.”

“You’ve already lost, Samuels.” White-Feather said. “This can only end one way, and we all know what that is. I’m sure you’re too far gone, but you can still do the right thing before the end. Give up the technology. Now.”

Samuels laughed derisively. “You’re right about one thing, Chief. You aren’t going to convince me of anything. If I have to die, I’ll at least do it knowing I was on the right side of history.”

“Right side of history? You know how many people died because of you?” Mariah snapped. “You’re a coward. You’re arguably even worse than the rest of the Dissidents, except for Russell. At least we knew what they’d be from the get-go. We’ll take particular pleasure in offing you.”

“Then let be in a barrage of lead. I’ll take you all with me!” Samuels popped out of his hiding spot and starting shooting at everyone. He was able to do that a couple of times, but he didn’t kill anyone. When he came out a third time, multiple GCU and Apalachee personnel perforated his body. Samuels was dead before he hit the ground. Victory for the GCU and the Apalachee had finally arrived, albeit at a high cost.

The power core in Mariah’s armor had finally depleted, but she was ready to get out of the suit anyway. With no more danger around, she finally stepped out of her stuffy, confining suit. She collapsed to the ground, completely fatigued from the day’s events.

“Are you okay, Mariah?” White-Feather asked, kneeling down. He handed her some purified water.

“Yeah. Thanks, Chief,” Mariah said, gulping down half of the bottle in one go. “So . . . it’s finally over?” White-Feather nodded silently. “Honestly, doesn’t feel much like we won. Just that we . . . I don’t know. Didn’t lose the worst.”

“The wasteland has a way of doing that,” Masako said, walking up from behind. The base had finally been secured. “It beats down everybody. Until we restore civilization, it’s going to keep on mercilessly slamming us to the ground. The lawlessness feels like its own entity, doing everything it can to make humanity give up. But we can move forward. We have to. What we build now will achieve victory in the long run. It’s a worthy endeavor.” Masako had a matter-of-fact way of speaking, never condescending but emotionally balanced.

Mariah pondered Masako’s words. “I guess you’re right.” She took another long guzzle from the bottle of water. “I guess you’re right,” she said again, this time muttering to herself.



[The Ink Spots – Maybe]

Commander Darius’ crew had a great deal of success with their mission. While they had come across some Mirelurks, it wasn’t too hard for them to handle. They luckily did not have to go into the ruins of Laguna Beach or Panama City Beach, or else they would have gone up against a whole infestation of the aquatic abominations and who-knows-what. The bunker they were looking for turned out to be real, near the outskirts of Laguna Beach. His squads managed to track down some Brotherhood scouts, who had apparently found the bunker themselves and used it as their own base of operations. How they found the bunker already wasn’t immediately known, and it would be one of the subjects of interrogation of the surrendered faction.

Whatever the case was, the Brotherhood had hoped the bunker would have sufficient power for the F.A.C.T. to be operated by the time they got it. They did find some other Pre-War tech, but after taking possession of the device it became evident that the F.A.C.T. would not work on the computers there. They did not provide the necessary power and infrastructure for it and it was designed specifically to be used at a supercomputer like the one in Tyndall Air Force Base.

The GCU force that traveled there had outnumbered the Brotherhood by a sizable margin, and there weren’t any Dissidents that showed up. That indicated that Obadiah and Russell had put most, if not all, of their eggs in the Tyndall basket. The GCU suffered some casualties, but not anything near the scale of what happened for the factions that were at the Air Force base. A heavy but short battle resulted in victory for Darius and company. Now the GCU controlled both this bunker and Tyndall and could uncover many of their secrets for themselves. But there were still other investigations that needed to go on, like studies of the dead dreadnaught and how Jonathan Samuels had funneled information out of the GCU.



A memorial and celebration of the life of GCU Commander Emmanuel Bertrand was held back in his adopted home of Pensacola in the following weeks. Most of the speakers at his funeral were unsurprising—among them were Commander Darius, Commander Masako, Lieutenant Carmichael, and now-Commander Jacob. Many GCU personnel attended, though some were not able to come as they had to attend to their normal duties. They would be able to pay their respects later. Many of the Apalachee, including Chief White-Feather, were present as well in solidarity.

At the memorial, many aspects of Bertrand’s life were covered. He was born in Haiti in 2080, only three years after the Great War. As much as the War had ravaged the whole world, Haiti was one of the worst-off countries. Already struggling economically for an extended period of time, the devastation of the island nation was so severe that just about all signs of civilization were wiped out. There had been intense civil strife on the island leading up to that fateful day, and the fallout exacerbated it exponentially.

Bertrand’s parents tried hard to shield him and his older sister, Fabiola, from all the dangers in Haiti—the collapsed government desperately trying to maintain control, gangs similar to raiders, the irradiated animals and even plant life that were hostile to humans, and disease. But there was only so much they can do. When Bertrand turned 18 years old, their parents shipped him and his sister out on a boat heading for the United States in the hopes that they would find a better life there. The two young adults pleaded with their parents to come with them, but there was little room on the boat and limited resources. Their parents were also coming down with an illness and feared spreading it, feeling too weak to make the journey anyway. The parents and children bid each other farewell, heartbroken. They would never see each other again.

The boat captains feared they would be unable to make the full trip to the United States with their limited supplies. A few of the boat’s passengers fell ill and died on the way and the captains made some mistakes in navigation. Weather conditions, impacted greatly by the Great War, also made the journey dicey. All of these factors led to them making landfall in Varadero, Cuba, far off course, in the hopes of finding more food and water and to find places to give a proper burial to their fellow Haitians. It was here that Bertrand met a Cuban girl only a few days younger than him named Marisol, who was part of a group of Cuban refugees trying to escape the island themselves. The Cuban government was in league with China, the arch-nemesis of the United States, in the lead-up to the Great War. Some of its members survived the bombs and continued to oppress their citizens even more so than Pre-War. This group of refugees had finally found their break to leave for the United States and, finding a sort of kinship due to their similar circumstances, joined the Haitian refugees, agreeing to share whatever supplies they could. Two boats left, with Marisol joining Bertrand and his sister Fabiola on theirs.

The target destination had been to land in South Florida. Navigational mistakes as well as unfamiliarity with the territory, however, diverted their course much further north to Tampa Bay. Their stay would be short due to the high levels of pirate and raider activity in the region. The refugees sought refuge within the domain of a mysterious organization colloquially referred to as ‘the Society,’ based out of the ruins of the University of South Florida in Tampa, but they were refused entry. There was nothing else resembling a stable, larger-scale community in the area, and the desire to find somewhere that was stable led the refugees even further north, this time on land. Travelers coming from the north spoke of a relatively secure, fledgling nation called New Florida.

The Haitians and Cubans finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but more tragedy struck. Many of the refugees fell ill and died from disease, complications from radiation poisoning, exhaustion, or attacks from irradiated animals. Among these victims was Fabiola, Bertrand’s sister, at only 23 years old. It was at that point that Bertrand and Marisol became very close and fell in love, finding comfort in each other as basically everyone they knew was gone. They finally reached New Florida, the borders of which were far smaller than what the GCU’s part of New Florida was today and called it home. Bertrand would join New Florida’s military out of a sense of duty to protect people—the way he wished he could’ve done for others like his sister over the arduous journey from Haiti, and the way his parents protected others. About a year later, Bertrand and Marisol would get married. The Gulf Coast Union formed on July 4, 2110, and New Florida joined as one of the founding members. At that point, Bertrand had already been in the military for a decade. He was soon after transferred to Pensacola and became the Commander only a few years afterward.

But the cruelty of the wastes would strike again in 2120. After 20 years of a happy marriage, Marisol became sick from an accumulation of rads and an unspecified disease. They did not have any children, leaving Bertrand by himself. Grief-stricken, Bertrand would pour himself into his work to take his mind off of his loss. Sometimes he considered giving up completely. But he found a lot of promise in one of his younger officers, who had only been in the GCU force for five years: Jacob Parker. Bertrand took Jacob under his wing and they became close friends outside of work. Despite the fact that Bertrand was black and Jacob was white, Jacob became like the son that Bertrand never had, while Bertrand became like a father to Jacob. His real father he didn’t really get to know after he disappeared when Jacob was young. Jacob’s talent and tenacity led to him becoming second-in-command of the Pensacola division behind Bertrand. Having someone basically become family to Bertrand helped to keep him going, to soften the blows of all the losses Bertrand experienced up to that point. The mentoring that Bertrand gave to Jacob would lead to the latter assuming the position of Commander in the present day.

A bunch of other people that knew Bertrand personally had some words at the end of the funeral, when anyone could speak. Mariah and Valentina, however, did not. They could not bring themselves to talk in front of everyone, electing to sit with each other silently throughout the memorial.



September 25, 2130

Mariah had only been in the Panhandle for only about close to two months, but the cacophony of events since she arrived made it feel like several years. Yet the past couple of weeks or so were relatively uneventful, which was just fine by her. Mariah came back to Pensacola and helped around doing various jobs here and there, including scavenging from the ruins of the nearby University of West Florida. She stayed at Valentina’s home and the two of them hung out whenever they were both not working.

Jacob, meanwhile, had settled into his new position as the Commander of GCU’s Pensacola division. And while she was not even close to the second-in-command, Valentina became an unofficial aide of sorts to Jacob thanks to her actions at Tyndall Air Force Base and their friendship. She became one of the go-to people for tech-related issues, particularly when it came to terminals and computers. She also demonstrated some promise and talent with her combat skills, although they were still somewhat raw.

The thorough defeat of the Brotherhood and the Dissidents meant they were done troubling the region. The survivors of each were exiled out of GCU lands, sending the former back to the Midwest and the latter north into Georgia. In addition, the Brotherhood and the Dissidents had to give up any technology they had acquired to the GCU. They would be provided with some means to survive treks through uncivilized areas, but that was it.

The GCU also kept their word with the Apalachee, holding the F.A.C.T. but handing them the land in what was once the Apalachicola National Forest. The Apalachee and regular GCU citizens had made strong headway into eliminating the hostile wildlife there. The Apalachee retained autonomy over their internal affairs but concerns that dealt with the GCU and its citizens had varying levels of joint decision-making between the two groups.

Mariah, Valentina, and Commander Jacob were sitting at a table in the Blue Angel Inn back in Pensacola. It was the evening. Panhandle Radio played softly in the background. They laughed, traded stories, and had a few drinks, though not in excess. Some of the stories even involved people that passed, such as Bertrand and Valentina’s father, Gabriel. It helped to ease the pain. While they still faced dangers due to the lives they lived—not to mention the general perils of the Sunshine Wasteland—the past few weeks were a nice reprieve from the hectic times dealing with the Brotherhood and the Dissidents.

Still, the events were fresh on their minds, particularly the death of Bertrand. In some ways, it still felt a bit surreal even after several weeks had passed since the memorial and funeral held for him. As if on cue with the changing of their thoughts, the DJ was putting in the next tune: “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire” by The Ink Spots. Perhaps there was no more song title more ironic than that following the Great War, and it was a popular tune in the Old World.

A moment of silence followed the beginning of the track as their thoughts reverted to their former Commander. Jacob spoke first. “If only Commander . . . if only Emmanuel could have lived to see the results of our work. Would have been a nice send-off into the proverbial sunset.”

“He was thinking of retiring soon?” Mariah asked.

“Yeah. At least from combat duties. He used to talk about it happening in a year or two, but after all that happened at Tyndall? Maybe he would’ve done it first chance he got. It would be one hell of an end to a career. I suppose it still was, though obviously . . . would have been nice to end it differently.”

Mariah took another sip from her drink. “I thought your speech at the memorial was really nice. So, he was like a father to you, huh?”

Jacob nodded silently. “When I was young, my father ran out on my mother. At least that’s what she thinks. Just left one day and didn’t come back, but why he did I can’t say. It’s been a long time. I’m not sure if he did abandon us or if he just got killed out in the wastes. Hard to know for sure a lot of times when you live, well, pretty much anywhere.” He took another swig of his drink, a local brew called the Pensacola Punch. “But we can all relate on that to some level: Losing a father. Including Bertrand, as you heard at the memorial. He had a really rough life. This might sound awful, but . . . maybe this was for the best, the way he went out. He died in one last act of valor. With all the people he’s lost, if he retired, he might not have been able to handle the solitude. Work with the GCU was the way he took his mind off things and if he didn’t have that anymore, the loneliness would have completely crushed him. At least now he can see his parents, sister, and Marisol again this way.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Valentina said. “It’s still hard to see someone who took such interest in my development personally and professionally be killed right in front of me like that. He was sometimes overprotective, but I knew he cared and believed in my capabilities. Sometimes, it was hard for me to feel like I belong in the GCU forces, but Bertrand liked me a lot. Even as a low rung on the ladder, he interacted with me a lot more than most people in the service. It . . . meant a lot when his final words were to me were about how proud he was of me. He was sometimes like a father to me, too. Especially with my actual dad being. . .” Valentina’s lips started to tremble again as tears started to silently stream down her face.

Mariah put a comforting arm around Valentina’s shoulders, although she, too, started to feel emotional again. She cleared her throat and gathered her thoughts, changing the subject to the relief of all of them. “So, what exactly did you want the two of us to meet you for, Jacob? Somebody that we are supposed to meet, right? How come you haven’t told us who it is yet?”

“It’s a . . . surprise of sorts, for lack of a better term. Somebody I think you and Val should meet, but that’s all I am saying until he gets here. I’ll let him tell you why I’ve kept it under wraps,” Jacob said.

“Is it somebody that we should know?”

“Not necessarily,” Jacob waved his hand. “I don’t see how you would have heard of him already. Val may have heard of him briefly before, but it’s not an individual she necessarily should have already known about. Until now, that is. And here’s the man of the hour himself.” Jacob stood up as a man in a GCU uniform walked through the Blue Angel Inn’s front door. “Sergeant Waller. Long time, no see.”

“Good to see you, too, Parker,” Sergeant Waller said, shaking his hand.

“Wait, a Sergeant?” Valentina quickly stood up to salute one of her superiors. “I, uh, it’s good to meet you, Sergeant. Sorry, I didn’t know who you were. . . .”

“At ease, soldier,” Waller assured her, extending his hand. “It’s quite alright. You had no need to know of who I am beforehand.” She shook it in return.

Mariah wasn’t sure how to address him. “Um, hello, Sergeant Waller. Nice to meet you. I’m Mariah.”

“Don’t worry, young lady. I know exactly who you are,” Waller said as they also shook hands. “I’ve heard about many of your exploits already. Jacob here has told me quite a bit about the two of you and what you did at the nearby Air Force base. Impressive work by both of you. Now, has the Commander informed you why I am here?”

Mariah and Valentina shook their heads.

“I thought it would be best to hear what you had to say directly from you, sir,” Jacob said.

“Kept it a surprise, huh?” Waller took a moment to clear his throat. “Well, ladies, let’s cut right to the chase. I have a proposition for you. Your ability to solve problems interfering with GCU operations has not gone unnoticed. And these problems go far beyond the Panhandle. The Dissidents and Brotherhood were real thorns in this area, but they were just the tip of the metaphorical iceberg. I have come from what is known as the Big Bend region of Florida, around where the former state’s coastline turns decidedly south. Specifically, I come from near the old capital, Tallahassee. We have called it Old Tallahassee since the Great War and New Tallahassee was established where Wakulla Springs once was. Old and New Tally, for short.

“Anyway, Old Tally was hit hard in the War, and we had kept it off-limits for citizens and GCU personnel alike in case the radiation was still too dangerous. But for some time now, it’s clearly been taken over by someone. Whoever it is seems to have re-established the city and has effectively kept us from ever controlling it. It appears to often keep to itself, but when it doesn’t, it causes a lot of trouble. Bands of ghouls, robots, even humans have come out of there and attacked settlements. We don’t know why they get aggressive, or why in the world someone would try to bring back the old city. But we do know it isn’t for anything good.

“Additionally, there have been some problems with at least a couple of other groups in the greater Big Bend region, and unfortunately we do not know much about them either. But we are trying to keep what little information we have under wraps. News about the attacks from Old Tally have already gotten around—not like you can stop any reports from that spreading anywhere and we aren’t looking to. But any potentially sensitive intelligence about either situation needs to be kept close to the vest.

“So, before I brief the two of you any further on the state of affairs, let me finally make my formal offer: How would you like to come to New Tallahassee and help us out? I assure you that you will be suitably compensated in terms of pay and accommodations. Particularly for you, Mariah, this is not a formal induction into the GCU. We have processes for that. But we have room for, for lack of a better term, special agents that assist us in certain military operations. If you do wish to eventually become an official part of the GCU military and enforcement, there may be something for you depending on how these troubles are solved. And specifically for you, Valentina, this is a promotion. Of course, there are still plenty of superior officers to answer to, but rest assured you will be much more involved in what we do.

“Now, what do you say, ladies? Take a moment to think it over if you need to. You shouldn’t rush the decision.”

Mariah and Valentina looked at each other, hoping the other would be the first to indicate their choice. When neither did, they looked to Jacob for advice. “What do you think, Commander?” Valentina asked. “Did you know all the details?”

Jacob nodded. “I have to know what’s going on in nearby regions whenever communication is possible in case issues there spill over to the Panhandle. I am aware of some of the finer details about what’s going on around the two Tallahassees. I informed Sergeant Waller of my thoughts on the matter. Personally, I think this is a great opportunity for the both of you. You can really make your mark on helping to truly re-establish civilization in the Sunshine Wasteland—and hopefully beyond. For you, Valentina—Mariah as well, but Valentina particularly so—I believe it is best if you find yourselves some new scenery. A new start of sorts. To move on from the pain and suffering you’ve experienced here in the Panhandle. I’ll truly miss the two of you, but I also truly consider this to be for the best. And given how close of friends you are getting, I imagine that you are a package deal,” Jacob said with a slight chuckle and smirk. The last part was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but it was true that neither one of them wanted to leave alone for different pastures.

Mariah and Valentina laughed. “That’s true,” Mariah said. “You get one, you get the other. The two women looked at each other for affirmation of the decision, nodding. “Alright, Sergeant Waller. We’re in.”

“Excellent,” Waller said with little fanfare, though he was clearly pleased with the answer. “We will be heading out tomorrow. So, get yourselves some good rest tonight. Say your farewells to the people you know around here. Finish whatever business you need to by early tomorrow afternoon. We need to head out ASAP. I’ll explain more when we leave for New Tallahassee. Welcome aboard.”

END OF PART 1: THE PANHANDLE
UP NEXT – PART 2: THE BIG BEND REGION

Ah, so this Corporal Samuels is the traitor. Has this name been mentioned before? I don't remember. I pride myself on trying to figure out plotlines. I thought the traitor was somebody not connected to GCU at all.

Is power armor supposed to be air-conditioned? Like a cool suit?

Oh my gosh what a dolt this Samuels is.

White Feather hands Mariah some purified water. I like how you distinguish what kind of water she's getting. Overall I like the righteousness of their actions, at their less-civilized level of existence (compared to ours now in 2021). In other words, it seems like GCU is doing what they think is right, Dissidents are doing what they think is right, and so on. Everybody wants to rebuild society in their own ways, and some are more considerate than others. I suppose early America was like this, as we tried to break away from staying a British colony. Colonists were doing what they thought was right, and same goes for the British, and Native Americans.

I like that: Old Tally and New Tally. I hope those gals know what they're getting into.



I know, I get this too with my own stuff sometimes. Usually if I go back and look at what I wrote a few years ago, sometimes I can see what bothered me. And then I want to edit stuff, even though it was written years ago!

You just have to continue to tell the story. Just get it told. Do the best you can, et cetera.

That was a quite a fight with Godzilla the Dreadnaught. A good capstone to the big final battle. Then finally the traitor cornered like the rat he was.

And we are off to Big Bend!

It's a bit refreshing to take a bit of a different approach now that there is a new situation down in the post-apocalyptic Sunshine State. Without spoiling too much, obviously: Big Bend is going to be where the real meat of the main story arc for Fallout: Florida begins.





September 30, 2130

Mariah was feeling like she might have found a place to settle down in the Panhandle, but now she was back to something that she was all too familiar with: Travelling to someplace new. Despite being well-acquainted with sojourning, it still was not something that she was keen on doing again. Yet this time was different in some ways. Instead of feeling like she was aimlessly wandering from place to place, Mariah felt a distinct purpose in coming here to the Big Bend region of Florida. She was going in without being totally blind about what was happening in these lands. And she had someone in Valentina that she knew and befriended already instead of completely starting from scratch.

The two women had made sure to bid farewell to all those they knew, though for Mariah that wasn’t many people. Valentina had gotten to know a lot of people in the time that she resided in Pensacola, and it was harder for her to leave than Mariah. But she was dedicated to the GCU, and their request for help in a new area would not go unanswered by her. Mariah was swayed more by an abstract desire to aid people in general who needed it rather than for the GCU specifically, though she had warmed up somewhat to the organization over the past couple months. With the crisis dealing with the Dissidents and the Brotherhood out of the way, a new call for assistance from a different land beckoned to them. It was time for Mariah and Valentina to put the past issues behind them.

The route to New Tallahassee took them through the Apalachicola National Forest, which gave Mariah a chance to say goodbye to Chief White-Feather. He bestowed a prayer to his Great Spirit upon Mariah. She wondered if this Great Spirit was wholly unique to the Apalachee or simply their name for a deity that already existed outside their culture. In any case, she was grateful for the gesture. White-Feather also conferred upon her the complimentary nickname of “The Sojourner.” It was symbolic in several ways. Like Mariah, the Apalachee were well-traveled, and sojourning to them was synonymous with gaining wisdom, fortitude, bravery, and so on. But perhaps most importantly, it was also the nickname of a legendary, ancestral figure from Apalachee oral traditions who came to their people, and even to outsiders of the tribe, in their time of need. Since that figure’s life long ago, other Apalachee heroes have been bestowed the honor of the name. While Mariah wasn’t sure whether she was the first non-Apalachee to receive the title, she appreciated the accolade. She liked the moniker, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

But there wasn’t any more time to chatter. Mariah bid her Apalachee friend farewell. Valentina did not get to know White-Feather, but they exchanged pleasantries all the same. Before they left, they got to see some of the foundation of the budding Apalachee state in the old Apalachicola National Forest. Several hubs for trade with GCU citizens had been hastily established on the forest’s outskirts. Surprisingly, much of the Forest was still relatively lush and green compared to the nearby lands despite the Great War. They all hoped these new settlements, and the partnership between the Apalachee and the GCU, was the start of something monumental and positive for the region.

The official boundary between the Panhandle and the Big Bend region ran roughly along the former county delineations between the pair of Leon and Wakulla Counties and the group of Gadsden, Franklin, and Liberty Counties. Even though much of the visible Pre-War demarcations were wiped out in the Great War, it still made a convenient boundary from yesteryear for the GCU to use.



The convoy that Mariah and Valentina traveled on had a varied number of modes of transportation. Kolossi pulled several carts while others were hauled by Brahmin. Mariah, Valentina, and Sergeant Waller were riding in a restored Pre-War car, a rare sight in the wasteland. Some GCU mechanics had parents, grandparents, or even great-grandparents that were in the same trade and had passed down their knowledge and preserved magazines about how to build and modify cars. A couple of favorites included “Corvegas Today” and “The Future of Automotives.” A few automobile experts that were still around were even alive before the bombs dropped, some of them managing to stay human (though they were now old and mostly frail) while others were turned into ghouls by excessive radiation.

[Fallout 2 Soundtrack – Many Contrasts]

As the cavalcade entered old Wakulla County, Sergeant Waller had already been filling in Mariah and Valentina about the current situation that the Big Bend division of the GCU was contending with.

“So . . . who exactly are these two groups, the Old Guard and the Enclave?” Mariah asked the Sergeant.

“We aren’t entirely sure,” Waller replied with a hint of irritation, not at Mariah’s question but at the fact that the GCU military leadership had not uncovered much information on them. “Witnesses that have come to us haven’t had many interactions with them. They aren’t exactly friendly folks, either group. But we have gathered a few important pieces of intel. For one thing, dialogue that our citizens have had with them has demonstrated that the two groups hate—or better yet, despise, loathe—each other. We’ve even seen the result of a few skirmishes between them that have left both Old Guard and Enclave members dead. Whatever they are doing here, it’s definitely not anything that we would sanction.

“At the same time, however, they are not the faction—or for all we know, the factions—that operate in Old Tallahassee. GCU citizens that have been harassed by the Old Guard and the Enclave have reported being questioned a lot about the city, how to get in, what’s in there, and so on. Multiple reports seem to demonstrate that this Old Guard makes a particular claim to ownership of this city, because they have asserted themselves as the continuation of the old state government of Florida. If that’s the case, looks like someone else has already beaten them to it. Meanwhile, the Enclave has proudly declared itself as the continuation of the U.S. federal government. It would make sense, then, that these two groups want to eviscerate each other. The relationship between the state and federal government administrations Pre-War was . . . strained, to say the least.”

“So we’ve heard. Apparently, the Dissidents, being more or less remnants of old Alabama, hated both of those governments too,” Valentina said. “They’ve outright said so.”

“Then you’ve seen that some resentments just never die,” Waller said. “Well, whatever the case is, we’re going to see that this little grudge match doesn’t amount to more trouble for the GCU. We’ve already got our hands full with whatever is in Old Tallahassee. And, it seems, so does this Old Guard and this Enclave. Be prepared for the likelihood that, however this entire situation gets resolved, it’s going to get even messier dealing with three or more factions. This is uncharted territory for us.”

As the crew came closer to New Tallahassee, Mariah and Valentina could already see the aesthetic differences between here and the Panhandle. There was a more futuristic feel to this area. Old Tallahassee, back when it was still Wakulla Springs, had been a major Pre-War tech hub, especially compared to the Panhandle. Of course, a lot of this tech was severely and negatively impacted by the bombs dropping, but there were still echoes of the scientific and industrial eminence of the area. Some faded posters for businesses and local political candidates, among other things, still clung to the walls of some boarded-up buildings. Some of the taller buildings even mostly stood up, although the colors had diminished in vibrance. A few of these structures were now home to some scavengers, hoping to pick out some Pre-War treasures to make some money.

At about 2:30 PM, their convoy came up to one of the gates leading into New Tallahassee from the west. There was a commotion just inside the city. At first, it just seemed to be the usual business, the hustle and bustle typical of a major city. But upon closer inspection, it was clear something out of the ordinary was up. “What the hell . . . ?” Sergeant Waller muttered under his breath. The vehicle came to a stop. Mariah, Valentina, and the Sergeant all got out of the vehicle to see what was going on. Laying on the ground were a small band of dead ghouls, a few of them visibly degenerated to the point that they were obviously feral. There were also a couple of humans that accompanied them in death on the concrete. A bunch of the city’s residents had crowded around the scene as several GCU officers were trying to get them to disperse. One of them caught sight of Waller and called out to him. “Sergeant!”

“Callahan, status report.” Waller said to the soldier, getting straight to the point.

“Another small-scale attack,” Callahan said, shaking his head. “We assume they came from Old Tally, but they don’t have on those ‘New State of Florida’ logos that the others had. Probably to conceal their origin. They appeared to be doing some recon, because witnesses saw several of them in town well before this attack asking questions.”

“Trying to keep a low profile? What were they looking for? And what about these ferals?”

“We’re still asking people, including other GCU soldiers that were on duty here. Some people say they were asked about a ‘Langston,’ so that sounds like a lead. Nobody seemed to know who they were talking about, though. Got some people searching through residency records to see if we have a ‘Langston’ on file. As for the ferals, the non-feral ghouls were able to keep them under wraps until things went south. Someone noticed strange activity lying in wait, so I guess that is what set off this group. Seems the non-feral ghouls were able to keep the ferals from attacking their human compatriots and from jumping out right away, but I don’t know how that is possible.”

“Any casualties?”

“We had several injuries, but nothing that a few Stimpaks can’t handle.”

“Very well. Report back to me ASAP when you find something noteworthy. Before you go, let me introduce you to our new help. This is Mariah and Valentina,” Waller said, pointing to them respectively. “Ladies, this is Desmond Callahan, Commander of the New Tallahassee garrison for the GCU. Callahan, these are two of our heroes from that battle at Tyndall Air Force Base back in the Panhandle.”

“Oh, yes, I believe your two names have been specifically mentioned. Well, welcome aboard, ladies,” Callahan greeted them. “I wish we could be more accommodating, but as you can see, we have a situation on our hands that requires our immediate attention. I hope for more proper introductions later. Unless Sergeant Waller needs you for something right now, feel free to familiarize yourself with the city. Once you get situated, we’ll call on you.”

“Yes, meet us at the main GCU station downtown at 5:00 PM,” Waller added, giving them directions to the location.

“Affirmative,” Valentina said, already reverting into her formal GCU demeanor.

“Sure thing,” Mariah said.

“Alright, show’s over, people!” Commander Callahan shouted at the citizens that were still crowded around the scene. “This is official GCU business. Disperse from the area immediately.”

“More zombie freaks attacking our great city?” Someone called out from the crowd. “When are you kicking out these walking corpses? It’s only a matter of time until the ones living here attack us.” Some of those in the crowd were muttering or audibly voicing their approval, while others looked away uncomfortably at the man’s words.

“I said to disperse! Now! Or you’ll be held for interfering with military affairs!” Callahan yelled, already having lost his patience. His threat was effective at getting the citizens to quickly leave.

Mariah and Valentina were disgusted by the anti-ghoul sentiment. “Bigots here too, huh? Ghouls are people too.” Valentina said.

“Tensions have been getting particularly bad between ghouls and non-ghouls lately.” Callahan said, shrugging. “Most of the ghouls live in one district in this city because of the harassment, forming their own little community. But you still see them around elsewhere.”

“And the GCU or the city government have done nothing about this problem?” Mariah asked.

“Look, it’s not our job to handle it,” Callahan said with a hint of dismissiveness. “I don’t like it either, but there is nothing I can do. I don’t give a damn what your skin condition is as long as you don’t cause trouble in this city. And if ghoul or human starts it, then we end it quickly. You’ll have to take it up with the mayor or the city council if you get the chance to meet them.”

Mariah was about to object further, but Sergeant Waller cut her off. “Mariah, we have other objectives to focus on here. You may not be formally inducted into the GCU, but this partnership still requires you to abide by certain guidelines. I don’t support the behavior of those citizens either, but we all need to stay focused on the task at hand. You can’t go crusading about all this other stuff.”

“But . . .” Mariah’s naturally defiant side was shining through again, but Waller and Callahan visibly did not have any tolerance for it.

“Mariah, wait,” Valentina gently but firmly placed her hand on Mariah’s shoulder to get her to stop. She knew that Mariah’s behavior was not going to go over well with their superiors. Instead, Valentina was going to try a more diplomatic route. “Sergeant. Commander. Is there a way—just for a little bit—to go down to wherever the local government conducts business? Just to help us get a lay of the land since we’re new here. Maybe they will know something that we can use in this investigation. We’ll be focused on the main reason we are here, I promise. Right, Mariah?” Valentina looked at Mariah, not-so-subtly hinting to her to go along with it. She didn’t want to lie to the Sergeant and the Commander, so instead she gave another good reason for her and Mariah to meet the city’s administration. Valentina did, however, want to talk to them about the tensions related to the ghouls.

Mariah thought for a moment, recognizing Valentina’s approach was the more effective way forward. “Yes. Sorry . . . Sergeant. Commander.” It was not easy for her to get those words out, still feeling some indignation at what she saw as their superiors’ callous disregard for the ghoul plight in the city.

“Very well,” Waller relented. “If you really need to see those politicians, you can show them your GCU badge, Valentina. But do not get caught up in some other mission. Understood?”

“Affirmative, sir,” Valentina replied, saluting.

“Mariah?” Waller waited for her reply.

“Yes . . . uh, sir,” Mariah said.

“Good. Well, go do what you must do. See you both in a couple hours.”



Mariah and Valentina got a map of New Tallahassee, finding where the local government center was. Their efforts at gaining an audience when they arrived, however, were in vain. Sheila, the city clerk—a middle-aged woman with fully silver hair, dyeing it that way to cover up some premature gray hairs, though her skin was in good shape for her age—told them that the mayor and the council were knee-deep in meetings with each other and prominent citizens of New Tallahassee and other settlements. “Sorry, but it’s nearly impossible to book something on such short notice, especially when you aren’t known to the council. You seem like lovely, bright young ladies, but there is only so much I can do. However,” Sheila paused, searching through her calendar. “There may be something else that is open later this week. But I’d need to know who exactly the two of you are and why you need to talk to the city government. For our records. Unfortunately, dears, I cannot simply tell them that you are GCU. They won’t let you in on that basis alone.”

Valentina spoke after she found the right words. “We would like to speak them on a couple of things. We want to discuss how to resolve these tensions with the ghouls, because it can’t end well for the city. Secondly, we’re conducting an investigation regarding the attack just inside the city gates earlier this afternoon. Maybe the mayor and the council can give us any sort of information that the rest of the GCU hasn’t thought about or uncovered.” She kept her promise to Sergeant Waller that she and Mariah would not put so much focus on the ghoul situation.

Sheila gave them a sweet smile. “Well, you aren’t the first one to bring up the ghoul situation. I feel bad for those poor souls. They were human once. We can just be so mean to each other, you know? I wish that were enough to get you in, but our government won’t accept that as good enough for an audience. As for the earlier attack . . . hmm,” Sheila pursed her lips as she thought about it. “I think that might work. I can’t guarantee it, but try coming in at 8:00 tomorrow morning. Sometimes they will have some ‘free’ time that they can work something in or see a general audience. And occasionally, people who need to meet the council and mayor are late for appointments.” Sheila leaned in to whisper the next sentences. “They are politicians after all. Got to seem open and listening to the public as much as possible.”

“Well, I guess we’ll try that then. Thank you so much, Sheila.” Mariah replied cordially.

“Indeed, thank you a lot, Sheila.” Valentina chimed in warmly as well. She pointed out the clock to Mariah. It was 4:30 PM. “Come on, Mariah, we need to be at the station soon. Let’s get there with time to spare.”

“Anytime, sweethearts,” Sheila responded happily, waving as the two of them waved back and walked out the door.

/////////

Mariah and Valentina arrived at the station about ten minutes before 5:00 PM. Sergeant Waller and Commander Callahan were already waiting for them in one of the offices as the front desk receptionist directed the women to them. “Ah, you came in before the appointed time,” Waller said. That’s good. I was always taught that being on-time was late and being early was on-time, so you two are off on the right foot.”

“So, do we know who this ‘Langston’ is?” Mariah asked.

“Not exactly,” Callahan said as he was still looking at some paperwork. “The terminals and paper files for residency records don’t have anybody by that name. So, if they are in this city, well, they shouldn’t be. They haven’t gone through the proper channels. Nobody likes paperwork, but the law’s the law. Though since we need more information on why this ragtag group of misfits wanted this Langston so badly that they were willing to die to nab him, we can’t afford to just kick him out once we find him. Maybe he can shed some light about what goes on in the Old Capitol.”

“But how do we not know what goes on there? If it’s safe enough that humans are living there, why hasn’t the GCU gone to fight back?”

“Because for one, we don’t know what exactly these people are capable of yet,” Waller said. “I don’t like taking hits and not being able to fight back either, but we aren’t trying to start a full-on war. Besides, they’ve got that place locked down tight, and I mean real tight. We haven’t seen anybody going in. They have some serious defenses up with turrets and robots and guards, human and ghoul. And there could still be some lingering radiation. In fact, I’d count on it. But I figure they’d have to have a lot of RadAway, Rad-X, RadShield, and so on if that’s the case as they have regular humans walking about. We’d have to send some of those with our own troops to be safe, though, and we don’t need them marching into a death trap whether they get rads or not.”

“So, we haven’t ever sent any stealth units in there for recon?” Valentina asked this time.

“A few times, but they’ve never made it back. Comms have gone nowhere with them, so we assume they are KIA. The furthest we’ll go now is send some scouts to spy from a distance. That’s mostly how we have the intel that we do now. And then there are those Old Guard and Enclave louts to deal with, so we can’t put all our eggs in one basket.”

“We have had a few recent influxes of people to the city lately, mostly ghouls but some humans,” Callahan said. “Some move on to other cities, but a lot of them have sought asylum and residence here. If this Langston is here in town, I bet he’s one of them, only trying to lay really low to avoid attention.”

“So, he’s probably from Old Tallahassee then,” Mariah reasoned. “If he’s one of those newcomers, at least some of them must be refugees and that’s why that gang wanted to find him.”

“Exactly.”

“How do we go about finding these new arrivals then? This city must keep a close eye on them,” Valentina said.

“Indeed. There’s a part of town specifically designated for people looking to move into the city as they go through the paperwork channels. Temporary housing. But we’ve had times before where they snuck into other residency districts and we had to remove them by force. There are a few small settlements outside the city walls where people we’ve had to kick out go to. But I bet this Langston knows he’s being hunted and being outside of the city is going to be too dangerous for him. He’ll try his damnedest to stay within our confines.”

“He must be very resourceful if he got out of Old Tally though,” Mariah remarked. “If few—if anyone—gets in, whoever runs the city would have made it extremely difficult to get out. He could be anywhere.”

“Good point. That’s why we’re going to question people around town about any new entrants they remember seeing,” Waller said. “See if they have heard of this Langston character. The two of you, however,” he said, pointing an index finger each at Mariah and Valentina, “are mostly done for the day. You’re still not familiar with the lay of the land, so we’re going to have you both get acclimated some more. Those past couple of hours are you just scratching the surface. But remember: Stay focused on this mission. When you are out and about, still see if you get any answers about Langston, but Callahan and I are doing most of the legwork tonight. Tomorrow, though, is when things really ramp up, so see to it that you are ready then. That’s when the real work begins. Be here at 9:30 AM.” Waller then motioned with his right hand that they were free to go. “Dismissed.”

Valentina saluted the Sergeant. Mariah hesitated at first, still feeling sort of awkward about this slightly more formal role she had with the GCU. She finally saluted, which led to Waller giving away the faintest hint of amusement, blowing air through his nose as if to chuckle without opening his mouth. “You don’t necessarily need to salute if you aren’t an official GCU soldier, Mariah,” he remarked. “But I do expect a general sense of respect and for you to follow orders when I give them.”

“Oh. Uh, okay,” Mariah replied awkwardly, following Valentina out of the room and into the station lobby.

When they were outside and out of earshot of anybody, Valentina spoke again. “9:30 . . . that gives us some time to go down to the government center tomorrow morning. Hopefully, Sheila can get us in.”

“Yeah. At least we have some time to think about what we want to say tomorrow. Have to make every second time count with the mayor and council. I’m . . . not really sure what to say to them,” Mariah said, scratching the back of her head.

“We’ll figure it out,” Valentina assured her, smiling. “I don’t know about you, but I am ravenously hungry. I saw an inn called “Wakull-Over-Ya.” She giggled at the name. “Clever play-on-words, I suppose. What do you say?”

As if right on cue, Mariah’s stomach rumbled. “Count me in,” she said as the two of them laughed, going down the street to see what this inn had to offer for food.

Good to know the Apalachee survived all those battles, and will continue alongside with the GCU. Hopefully their pseudo-alliance will last and last.

Corvegas and Chrysluses (Chrysli?) also live on, although they are rare. I did go through a phase during which I tried to see if there were any automobile mods in Fallout 3 back when I began playing that game on PC. Nope, couldn't find any, although there is a good motorcycle mod.

Mariah is already getting hot-tempered at this Callahan guy!

That's cute when she doesn't know if she's supposed to salute or not. Who is this Langston? Guess we'll find out.

About time I got the next chapter out, eh?

Part 2: Big Bend

Chapter 14: Capitalizing on Opportunities

“And what will you be having tonight, dears?” The waitress asked Mariah and Valentina soon after they were seated inside the bar, Wakull-Over-Ya. The hit Pre-War tune “Poison Ivy” by The Coasters was playing in the background of the establishment.

“Brahmin steak and purified water, please,” Valentina said, handing a menu back to the waitress.

“I’ll have the Radfrog omelette and a purified water as well. Thank you,” Mariah said, handing back her menu.

“Absolutely. We’ll bring them out as soon as possible,” the waitress cheerily replied as she walked back to the bar’s kitchen.

Purified water was not a common commodity throughout most of the post-War world, though the city of New Tallahassee was fortunate to have the nearby Wakulla River, along with the means and people with the expertise to create water purifiers. With ready access to such a precious resource, the profits that were generated helped New Tallahassee rise from the ruins of Wakulla Springs as the city could export surplus water throughout GCU-owned Florida and beyond. The post-War world was harsh, but at least in settlements like New Tallahassee, many aspects of that unforgiving nature could be somewhat mitigated.

“This is for all those times a Radfrog tried to eat me instead,” Mariah joked, though for her there really was an element of retribution to it.

“Ha ha! Well, I don’t want to ever be in the same vicinity as one of those even when they are dead. Hearing about them is enough for me,” Valentina said, putting her hands up as if to stop something. “You actually came to face-to-face them before?”

“Yeah,” Mariah recalled as a chill went up her back. “Once in Holt when I followed the GCU and once when I found the F.A.C.T. near Niceville. Got poisoned the latter time and was saved by Chief White-Feather.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got some incredible endurance and luck, then.” The waitress came back with the waters for the two of them. “Thank you, ma’am,” Valentina said to her.

“With your penchant for tech, I think you’ve got me handily beat when it comes to intelligence.”

“I think you should give yourself more credit, Mariah. Intelligence isn’t all about knowing how to click a bunch of keys or reading computer screens or making some complex algorithms. You have a knack for figuring things out too, you know.”

“Well . . . thanks, Val. That’s very kind. You know, it takes a lot of endurance to go through what you have personally and professionally. It’s not just physical.”

“I suppose. But hey, that’s what makes a good team, right? Everyone has their strong suits, and they complement each other for maximum effect. It certainly worked for us in the Panhandle. I sure hope it works out that way here, too. I have no idea what we are supposed to do to resolve the issues in this area,” Valentina sat back and sighed, pursing her lips. The issues in Big Bend already seemed like a step up from those in the Panhandle. A mysterious city that was ostensibly impenetrable? Belligerent groups that claimed to be the continuations of the Florida and U.S. governments and were causing trouble in the region? And for all they knew, another faction could be involved in whatever was happening. There were a lot more unknowns here than just to the west.

“You certainly have me there,” Mariah said after thinking for a moment about what to say next. “Do you at least have any thoughts on who this Langston is?”

“I guess he ran afoul of whoever is running Old Tally. They went so far as to send some agents into this city to find him. But it sounds like there have been small squads sporadically attacking this area for some time now. Why would they do that? What’s to gain from that? Who or what else would they be looking for?” Valentina leaned forward on the table and shook her head. “It just doesn’t seem to make sense. Maybe that’s just because we’re new here, but it seems that Sergeant Waller and Commander Callahan don’t have any idea either. Maybe the mayor and the council could give us some ideas?”

“If they even see us,” Mariah reminded her. “I’m not exactly hopeful that some politicians are going to even give us the time of day. But we have to try. And these tensions between ghouls and non-ghouls can’t end well. I hope we can do something about that, but something tells me the hatred is deep-seated. Perhaps it is because of the attacks from Old Tally. Seems to be mostly ghouls there.”

“Maybe. Guess there’s only one way to find out.” Mariah and Valentina finished their meals, paid their caps, and headed for the place Sergeant Waller had set up for them to sleep at.



Mariah and Valentina were up bright and early, heading down to the city government center in the hopes that they would be granted an audience with the mayor and council. As luck would have it, the original early appointment that the elected officials had—with traders that came from the town of Perry, east down the old U.S. Route 98—was canceled. The traders seemed to be late to arrive. Sheila, the receptionist that Mariah and Valentina met the day before, contacted the mayor on an intercom to notify him of the situation and told him of the newcomers’ arrival. “Very well, send them up,” the mayor said. “But if those traders come in soon, we must see them immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheila replied. She turned her attention to Mariah and Valentina. “Well, good news for the two of you! Mayor Treadwell will see you. You can take the elevator or the stairs up one floor. Signs will point you to the audience chamber. Sounds like the council is tied up with some other business at the moment, so you’ll just be seeing the mayor.”

“No problem. Thank you, Sheila,” Valentina said. She and Mariah followed the directions and opened a double door to a room that could fit about 120 audience members in it. On the other side of the room was a long, curved dais for the mayor and the four council members to seat themselves at. It even had working microphones. For the damage from the Great War that could be seen on the outside of the building and elsewhere in town—even the lobby of the government center to some extent—the audience chamber was noticeably cleaned up and restored.

On the other side of the dais was a rotund man in a gray three-piece suit staring out a large window. He wore a black bowler hat and sported a gray-and-white handlebar moustache and goatee. He held up a gold pocket watch in his right hand. The man was unapologetically old-fashioned even by Pre-War standards. It was Mayor Treadwell.

“Excuse me. Mayor?” Mariah piped up to get the man’s attention.

“Ah, forgive me. I was lost in thought. You don’t get much time to just passively think about things when you’re the mayor in this city,” the man said, speaking in a throaty voice. He turned around to greet them. “Welcome to our fine, humble city! I believe formal introductions are in order first. I am Mayor Justin Treadwell. You must be Valentina Santiago and Mariah Walker, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the two women replied.

“Hmm, yes, I do believe that I’ve heard about you from the Panhandle. Oh, it is so exciting to have newcomers pay a visit to New Tallahassee—the only Tallahassee, as far as I’m concerned! But from what Sheila told me about the two of you, this is more than some simple business trip, unlike some certain tardy people,” the mayor said with a bit of sarcasm unsubtly mixed with irritation at the traders’ lateness. “Nevertheless, I help whenever I can. What can I do for you?”

“Well, we were wondering about a couple things actually,” Mariah said. “First, we’re with the GCU conducting an investigation into these recent attacks on the city. We were hoping to find any new info about why they are happening and who exactly is behind them.”

“Ah. And I see your GCU identifications,” the mayor said with a slight frown, pointing to their badges. “Did Waller and Callahan send you in their stead instead of coming to talk to me themselves?”

“Um, sort of. We petitioned them to . . . wait. Is there a problem between you and the Sergeant and the Commander?” Mariah noticed that Treadwell didn’t sound fond of talking about them.

“Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry about,” Treadwell laughed, motioning his hand as if to dismiss the question. “The city administration and the GCU military arm just don’t always see eye-to-eye, that’s all.”

Mariah’s inquisitive nature led her to press for more info about Treadwell’s comment. She made a charismatic bid to get more data from him. “Well, Mayor Treadwell, this could help us with the investigation. If there is any issue between you and the commanding officers, it could shine a light on some holes in this probe and we could fix them. We’re just here to help.”

Treadwell seemed to find it a convincing argument—or maybe he really did want to say something and changed his decision. “Oh, very well. I suppose the two of them would mention it eventually anyway.” The mayor took a deep breath. “We’ve butted heads with the GCU military personnel stationed here in New Tallahassee a lot. They see themselves as the rightful governing force, believing they are the ones that should be running everything here, not the city government. And it’s not just here. GCU military often have little regard for the GCU government. They’re very independent from each other in some respects, and people like Waller and Callahan are of the opinion that they should be calling the shots when it comes to governing. They disregard the legitimacy of our governmental institutions and processes whenever they can. They even supplant the city guard when it suits them.” Anger was slowly but steadily rising in Treadwell’s voice. He stopped to recollect himself, clearing his throat. “Ahem, I apologize again. This is not your concern and I’m not trying to turn you against your superiors—though I’m quite confident they would try to do so against me. But I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Mariah wondered if this hostility was the real reason that Waller and Callahan were reluctant to let her and Valentina chat with the mayor. How much was what Mayor Treadwell said the truth? Mariah wasn’t sure how to respond to Treadwell’s diatribe, so she tried to push it to the side for now. “So, can you give us a basic rundown of when all this started and how it has progressed? Any idea what these hostile units keep trying to attack the city for?” She refrained from mentioning Langston for the moment.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that they come from Old Tallahassee. I don’t know why they repeatedly harass us, but it is awfully strange that they do so in small, erratic packs. Perhaps they don’t want to risk an all-out assault. Maybe it’s reconnaissance they are trying to perform, and they get a little too spirited in their mission. I can’t say. But if they keep coming here, there must be a reason. Something that would make them go so far as to put their lives on the line. Even if we can’t discern a rhyme or reason to it all.”

“Are you sure this isn’t another group?” Valentina asked. It was her suspicion that they came from Old Tallahassee too, but as an investigator she was doing her due diligence. “We’ve had reports of other named bands that have been operating in Big Bend.”

“You must mean this Enclave and Old Guard.” The mayor started stroking his goatee thoughtfully. “Yes, I’ve heard all about it. I’m the mayor, after all. I have to know about any potential threats to the city. But they have not been verified to be near this area. Those reports come from way to the northeast. Plus, the groups that have run themselves to their deaths here have been found to have some ‘New State of Florida’ emblems when we’ve examined their bodies. I doubt that would be something that this Enclave or Old Guard would display. After all, they’ve made clear what their organizations’ names are.”

“Well, do you know anything about this New State of Florida?” Mariah said.

“I’m afraid not,” Treadwell shook his head. “I’ve had city employees search through library records and official documents. Nothing about this New State of Florida has turned up, save for these ruffians and louts that think they can take on this city.” The mayor said, pointing in the direction of Old Tallahassee. “That speaks to how well that eyesore excuse of a city is keeping what they are doing under wraps. We know basically nothing about them, even in all this time that they have been operating there.”

“And how long have they been operating there?”

“Oh . . . the better part of two or three years, probably? Hard to say when the city was still dangerously irradiated until these past few years. Expeditions that were attempting to brave its ruins suddenly found a civilization building there one day. How anyone could get a semblance of a sovereign city-state in such a short span of time is beyond me, especially in that hellhole. Somebody, or a bunch of people, clearly knew what they were doing when they set up shop there.”

While they were piecing together new bits of information, Mariah and Valentina were disappointed that it was nothing close to a breakthrough. But perhaps mentioning this Langston individual would lead to something substantial to work with. Valentina posed the question. “In this last attack, Commander Callahan reported that multiple people recalled the group mentioning someone by the name of ‘Langston.’ Does this name ring any bells for you?”

“Langston? No, that . . . nobody briefed me on that detail. Waller and Callahan must be keeping me in the dark deliberately as much as possible,” Treadwell scoffed. He cleared his throat again, quickly steering back on topic. “Anyway, no. That name does not mean anything to me. I’m guessing he is another new arrival, because to my knowledge it has not been reported that any New State of Florida—let’s just refer to them as NSF to make it easier—combatants have mentioned this ‘Langston.’ But the new arrivals to this city have been mostly ghouls, and there are a lot of ghouls in these NSF parties, so perhaps this Langston fellow is also one of them.”

It was clear to Mariah and Valentina that there wasn’t a whole lot more that Treadwell could tell them, but they still had one topic to address. “Speaking of the ghouls,” Mariah said, “Val and I have been hearing about these tensions between them and regular humans. We even heard a citizen of this city refer to ghouls derogatorily. Has the city government done anything about this?”

Treadwell was indignant. “You don’t think we’ve done anything about this?” Mariah and Valentina were caught off-guard by his heated response. He quickly reigned himself back in, laughing uneasily. “Please forgive me for that outburst. There’s been a lot more stress than usual lately, and even I can lose patience too quickly. I’m only human, you know. But I assure you, the city’s laws regarding physical harm, theft, and so on apply to everyone in this city equally. Ghoul or human. Citizen and non-citizen. GCU and not. But such deep-seated passions often do not respect laws. When it is reported and when it is verified, the city guard takes swift action. More than can be said for certain . . . apathetic parties.” It was clear he was taking another shot at Waller and Callahan. “Rest assured, we are doing everything we can, and we will resolve this.”

It wasn’t a satisfying answer, but there was no more time to press Treadwell further. The time that Mariah and Valentina were ordered to be at the GCU station was near, and the traders that were supposed to meet with Treadwell had finally arrived. “Apologies for our late arrival, Mayor Treadwell. There was trouble on the road here,” one of the traders said.

Treadwell masked his displeasure at their tardiness and put on a good politician face. “Oh, no reason to worry, Marcus. There’s always time to discuss business.” He turned to the two women. “I apologize, young ladies, but I must tend to this original appointment. But it was a great pleasure to meet the two of you.” Treadwell shook their hands firmly. “Please excuse us.”

“Sure thing,” Mariah said. Something about Treadwell didn’t sit well with her, but she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Maybe it was just the fact that he was a politician. But while her hopes for getting workable information were higher, there was some useful information—perhaps the discord between the mayor and the GCU leadership most of all. How much would Waller and Callahan entertain questions about it? Mariah would inquire about it when the opportunity presented itself.

Mariah and Valentina waved to Sheila the receptionist as they went down the stairs and through the first-floor lobby. “That was sort of disappointing,” Valentina said to Mariah. “I’m not sure having more time to question the mayor would have revealed much more than we already know.”

“But we do know the sergeant and the commander are not friends with the mayor,” Mariah said, pointing a finger up in the air as if to rebut. “That may be really helpful to know and we could question them about . . .”

“I don’t think they will look kindly on us asking about it, Mariah,” Valentina cautioned. “They want us focused on the mission they specifically gave us. They’ll think all that stuff about their relationship with the mayor is superfluous and that we are losing our concentration.”

“Oh, come on, Val,” Mariah pleaded. They stopped at the front steps to the city government center. “I know you are very observant of the military structure and all, but I have a hunch talking to them about it is going to tell us something valuable. Why wouldn’t they say anything? It just makes them seem like they are hiding something if they don’t and they’ll want to put out their side of the story. Look, I’m not even a formal member of the GCU. This is my idea, anyway, so if they do get upset, I’ll take the heat.”

Valentina placed a hand on Mariah’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to be in trouble, Mariah. You already almost were when we first got here when you were getting testy with the commander. But between you and me,” Valentina said, lowering her voice, “I agree with you. There is something more there that they don’t want to tell us. But I don’t believe that asking them outright is going to help. Maybe they’ll just bring it up naturally, telling their side of the story.”

As they were talking, a ghoul man in sunglasses walked up to them. “Excuse me. May I speak with the two of you for a moment? It’s very important that I discuss something with you.”

Mariah and Valentina looked at each other, pondering how much time they had to spare before they had to meet with the sergeant and commander and whether they should talk to this random stranger. “Sure. But we have to be somewhere soon.”

“You are Mariah and Valentina, are you not?” The ghoul asked in a raspy voice, getting straight to the point. Excessive radiation typically did a lot of damage to ghoul vocal cords, or at least mutated them.

Mariah and Valentina were taken aback at this stranger knowing their names. “How do you know who we are?” Valentina asked with some suspicion and nervousness.

“I do not mean to alarm you. But I cannot tell you too much about who I am or how I know. Though, I am aware that you have been looking into the issues between ghouls and smoothskins . . . er, non-ghouls. It is rare that someone takes notice of our plight, let alone demonstrates a desire to resolve it. It is unusual for people that are working in the GCU. And the city administration, for that matter.”

“What do you mean?” Mariah asked. She and Valentina were still slightly apprehensive, but more so curious. “And how do you know that we were looking into that?”

“I am afraid I am not at liberty to say,” the ghoul said, keeping up the mystery. “But for what it is worth, I and others trust that the two of you are trying to do the right thing. It is just that we must constantly keep our guards up, given many residents’ . . . distaste at our presence. And both the GCU military and the city government have mostly been, at best, uncaring about us unless it causes serious trouble that affects or reflects badly on them. Maybe they want to believe that it is the other’s responsibility. Apathy is almost as dangerous as unequivocal antagonism. And the relatively few humans who do try to help us are looked upon with condescension by their fellow citizens.”

If this ghoul knew so much about what they were doing and who they were, Valentina reasoned that he may know about Langston. “If you are from the southwestern district of the city and you know this much about us, then perhaps you can help us with a sort of missing persons case,” she said. “We are looking for someone named Langston. A recent attack from people identified as ‘New State of Florida’ agents has indicated that they are looking for someone by that name. Does it ring any bells for you?”

“Most certainly. And I can let him explain the whole story,” the ghoul added after seeing their reactions. “But first, we need some guarantees from the GCU, and you two are our only option to go through.

“Look, sir,” Mariah said. “Val and I are not in a position to be making guarantees. We aren’t high-ranking officers. I’m not even a formal member of the GCU. The only thing I can promise is that we will do our best to help you.” Valentina nodded in affirmation. “How exactly can we meet with Langston? We have to tell the commanding officers about all this.”

“Ah, but that is why I have prepared precautionary measures for our segment of the community.” The ghoul’s expression did not change as he crossed his arms. “It’s also why I have not told you my name yet—for the sake of simplicity, you can refer to me as ‘H,’ when you report to your superiors. We need something tangible that says that more will be done to protect the ghouls from discriminatory actions in this city. Their safety is one of my utmost concerns. For your sake, I want to help you. It benefits us both. But given that you are not in charge, I need your help convincing those who do run the show. I promise that it will be well worth the GCU’s time to make a deal with us.”

Mariah and Valentina still weren’t sure what to think about the situation, but there wasn’t much choice. This could be their best chance at finding Langston. “Okay. What is your idea, H? We really need to meet with this Langston,” Valentina said.

H pulled out a letter sealed in an envelope. “Deliver this letter to your bosses. You don’t need to concern yourselves about all the details and trying to remember everything. This letter will circumvent such burdens, as it outlines all that we are seeking and the problems that plague us. What I will tell you, however, is how to find us. When you come to the district’s main gate, you will find an old cul-de-sac several blocks directly ahead. In the middle of this cul-de-sac are several cooking fires, a place where the residents often commune while eating. Out loud to the people there, say the following words in this exact order: ‘Quiet waters mask the dangers hiding underneath.’ One of them—though I will not tell you who—will address you and take you to where Langston is. But,” H added with emphasis, “It must be either you, Valentina, or you, Mariah, that utter this phrase. We know you are on our side and we will cooperate if you are present. But if your superiors insist on doing it themselves, nothing will happen.”

“But why can’t you just tell us who this specific person is that we must talk to? Or where exactly to find Langston? Or why it has to be me or Val that say this specific phrase?” Mariah asked. She was confident that H was well-intentioned, but she still wasn’t fond, nor entirely understanding, of the level of secrecy.

“If I did, your commanding officers may find an excuse to keep the two of you away because they have all the details they need,” H said matter-of-factly. “As aforementioned, we do not trust the GCU leadership. The city administration is no better. In case your . . . supervisors are of the notion that they will handle this themselves, we have taken measures to have two of the few people we believe we can trust be present in all of this. The way that I understand it, your bosses don’t want you to concern yourselves with our troubles, since there is another mission that you are here for.” How in the world did H know about all these things? Who has been watching and listening to Mariah and Valentina? Even though they seemed to be on the same side as the two women, the latter were somewhat creeped out by the surveillance. “But remember these words, which would be a good lesson for the city government and the GCU—as a great man once said, ‘A house divided against itself cannot stand.’” It seemed that H was well-versed in American history, even as the nation died along with every other country in the world over a half-century ago. Being a ghoul, though, H may have been alive when the Bombs fell. “Hopefully, they will realize that a body cannot withstand external pressures if the internal strains are too great.”

Mariah had felt that Waller and Callahan were dismissive about the ghoul situation earlier, but to be wholly untrustworthy about it? Perhaps there has just been some misunderstanding, Mariah thought. Or they could have been so swamped with all these issues with this ‘New State of Florida,’ the Enclave, and the Old Guard that they didn’t want to put another conundrum on their plate. Whatever the case was, it wouldn’t be satisfying to Mariah, but there was a fine line that she and Valentina would have to walk if they wanted to have a chance at fixing this mess. Mariah would have to be wary of keeping her temper in check.

“Okay, H. We’ll take this letter and tell the sergeant and commander everything. Speaking of which, we must meet them as we are almost late. Thank you for your help.”

“No. Thank you,” H said with a bow. “We eagerly await your arrival tonight.” With those final words, he casually strolled away. As he left, Mariah and Valentina continued down the street toward the GCU headquarters in the city.

“That honestly made me uneasy,” Valentina remarked. “I understand they want to protect themselves and they aren’t trusting of others, but to go to these great lengths to set something up is awfully strange. Knowing as much as they do is unsettling. Has someone been following us?”

“I don’t think we have any choice but to trust them,” Mariah said. “This is probably our best shot at finding this Langston. It’s kind of creeping me out, too, the way they went about this, but maybe it was the only way for them. In any case, we need to let the Sergeant and Commander know.” Valentina nodded in approval as they continued to the station.



Sergeant Waller and Commander Callahan, for now, didn’t say anything about Treadwell when they heard about the meeting, save for some clear facial expressions of antipathy at his name. They had turned up next to nothing in interrogating civilians and going through documents regarding Langston. If his name hadn’t even be mentioned by the band of New State of Florida agents before they died, no one would even know to look for him. With next to no info on him, the officers were starting to think that this wild goose chase was seeking a nonexistent person. But instead of being relieved or please about a potential breakthrough when Mariah and Valentina told them about their encounter with H, Waller and Callahan met it with intense skepticism.

“This is a joke, right?” Waller said indignantly, already in a sour mood at the fruitless time he had spent looking for information on Langston since they last met up. “This is absolutely absurd. You’re being shadowed by this person and you trust him?”

“Sergeant, we’re just relaying what we were told,” Mariah said, surprised and, although she hid it, upset at his reaction. “This is all we have to go on to find Langston.”

“And you didn’t think about this possibly being a trap?” Sergeant Waller shook the letter that H wrote. “And why are they so trusting of you, exactly? Why do they specify that the two of you have to come to their district tonight? I hope you didn’t spend much time looking into the ghoul situation.”

“No, sir,” Valentina quickly answered. “But perhaps that is intertwined with what is going on with Langston. The ghouls don’t trust the city or the GCU. . .”

“If so, being surreptitious is not a way to get law enforcement on your side,” Waller said, wanting to yell at the ghouls that weren’t even in the building. His anger was directed at them, but Valentina and Mariah were getting an earful in their stead. There was a vibe that Waller gave off when he was mad that intimidated even Mariah. “Cooperation is key to building such relationships. We aren’t here to play games with them, so they should stop playing them.”

Mariah had several things in her head that she wanted to say in response. Valentina could sense it after getting to know her. But for both their sakes, and to Valentina’s relief, Mariah did not rebuff Waller on any of his points. “Sir, this could be the break we’ve been looking for. We haven’t found anything else about this Langston guy, and time is short for us.”

As frustrating as the situation was for Waller and Callahan, Mariah had a point. “Sergeant, if I may,” Callahan said. Waller motioned for him to continue. “She makes a good case. This man has made himself exceptionally difficult to find and it would not be efficient for us to try turn over every stone we possibly can. I don’t exactly trust this H, and we should still be on our guard. But there was nothing that said that our officers here have to go alone or that we cannot be there. Maybe the people there want to strike a sort of deal with us. For what reason is beyond me, but if this New State of Florida wants to get him, then maybe it has something to do with them.”

Callahan got a harrumph out of Waller, who thought it over for a moment. “Fine. We’ll do it their way, then. But the two of you—do not let your guard down. You can never be too wary, especially with this clandestine operation they are running. And that is a shady part of the city we are going to. We don’t need to bring an army with us—not that I want to, anyway—but I’m going to enlist a handful of officers to come with us. A squad will be on standby outside the district in case something goes down.”

“Sergeant, what if they get scared off by the GCU presence in . . .” Mariah protested before Waller cut her off.

“Mariah, I did not ask for extra input,” Waller snapped. Mariah flinched. “I’m handling the strategy here. You just do what they asked you to do, and what we tell you to do. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Mariah affirmed.

“Valentina, is that clear?” Waller said, turning his attention to her.

“Yes, sir.” Valentina saluted.

“Good. Then tonight is settled. In the meantime, we’re researching this Old Guard and Enclave. Quite ballsy of them to so openly conduct themselves the way they do and to outright state who they are. We’ll see to it that that cockiness makes them sloppy and puts an end to their operations. There is an old library in the city that has been largely restored with a surprising number of texts that have been preserved. See if you can find anything about them and who they say they are, what makes them so brazen, what the reasons are for wanting into Old Tally, and so on. And see if you can find some of the eldest residents of New Tally to see if there is anything they can tell us. There’s still a few people that were alive before the Bombs. Return here at 6:00 and then we will go into the southwestern district. Dismissed.” Waller adjourned the meeting. Mariah and Valentina left without saying another word.



Rummaging through old books and scouring through running terminals brought the pair no closer to understanding what the motives of the Old Guard and the Enclave were. The names didn’t appear even once in all of the information that bombarded their eyes.

The next best bet was going off of what little Mariah and Valentina heard about in reported sightings in Big Bend. Given that the Old Guard was supposedly the self-proclaimed continuation of the Florida state government and that the Enclave was that of the federal government, they researched information on those administrations. Mariah remembered hearing in the Panhandle about how the two regimes were hostile to each other, and some of the research expounded on that. While it was not clear when it all started, some texts noted many ways in which the bitter rivalry manifested itself. Perhaps chief among them was how some national corporations infringed upon the market territory of the state-based and regional corporations. Nuka-Cola was trying to cut into the market share of Fusion! soft drinks. Super Duper Mart—a hugely popular supermarket chain in the northeastern United States, among other areas of the country—was in the infancy of its campaign to supplant the likes of UniMart and others. National utilities like Poseidon Energy took a different approach and bought out some local and state utilities, who were themselves major players in Florida’s state politics.

Mariah recognized the names of Nuka-Cola, Super Duper Mart, and Poseidon Energy from her various travels. She also vaguely remembered the name of Panhandle Gas, Electric, and Nuclear (PGEN) early on in her Florida adventures. It appeared that there was no situation like these, however, with Vault-Tec, which surprised her. There was no regional or local competitor from what she could tell, save for smaller businesses or personal projects resulting in bunkers on a much smaller, cheaper scale. Perhaps the market just didn’t lend itself well to another major corporation being involved. Mariah’s knowledge of the Old World was quite limited, but she still wondered about Vault-Tec’s presence in Florida. There wasn’t much data she could find on it, including what Vaults were being constructed. Even with the troubles between federal and state, surely a high-population, prominent state like Florida would have some Vaults hidden somewhere, right?

There was one old citizen, who said he was in his 80s, that did talk to Mariah and Valentina about the Old World. The words “Old Guard” and “Enclave” did not mean anything to him, but upon hearing their supposed ties to the Pre-War governments, he symbolically spat upon the name of the latter. “I don’t know about these Old Guard folk,” the old man said in a gravelly voice, “but if them Enclave are the federal government, then to hell with ‘em. No respect for state or local sovereignty. Hope they get what’s a-coming to them.” He then regaled Mariah and Valentina with several stories about the rivalry between the groups’ predecessors. Tensions were so bad that some in the Florida state government advocated for secession well before the Great War. While the U.S. fought with China, Florida smostly dealt with a Cuban government that allied with the reds, which the U.S. ostensibly was content to leave Florida alone on. The old man even claimed to be involved in a “Second Cuban Missile Crisis,” the importance of which was lost on Mariah and Valentina. Other transgressions that the federal government were guilty of, at least according to him, dealt with a “New Plague,” secret biochemical experiments, and more.

The amount of information the old man recited made the two ladies’ heads spin. They couldn’t keep track of it all. What could be gathered could be useful in the long run, perhaps, but it did not seem like they were demonstrably closer to understanding this Old Guard and Enclave. Valentina suggested that, if they were to finally meet Langston tonight, that maybe he would know something. It seemed to be a longshot since they had little idea who Langston was supposed to be, but Valentina called it a hunch. “Couldn’t hurt to ask, right?” Valentina shrugged.



Mariah and Valentina met with Sergeant Waller and Commander Callahan at the appointed time. A group of 16 other officers were accompanying them, much more than the handful that Waller suggested it would be, and 12 of which would stay on the outskirts of the district in case backup was needed. Waller wasn’t quite throwing everything but the kitchen sink at this situation, but the GCU presence made it clear how little he trusted the ghouls with this meeting.

As the crew came through the district, with Mariah and Valentina following the instructions laid out by H, the residents of the district became quickly aware of their presence. Many of them would get quieter or stiffen with apprehension as the soldiers came by, and it was not just the majority-ghoul community. The humans were just as suspicious of the military and the city guard. Waller and Callahan didn’t seem to be aware of the sentiment, or perhaps they chose to ignore it. Mariah, and even Valentina, did not like how the two commanding officers approached the overall issue, but they kept their objections between each other.

They soon came to the cul-de-sac that H had talked about. Some of the houses were of a standard Pre-War model in style and size, remnants of the old American suburban image, but rundown and in the process of being restored by some of the residents. Other tenants had set up wooden and metal shacks right next to the houses. When they came to the communal area where a group of ghouls and a few humans were eating, the locals were almost completely silent at the GCU presence.

Mariah and Valentina decided that the former would say the passphrase H gave them. Mariah stepped into the middle of the commune as some of the people eyed her warily. It was a very awkward moment. “Uh . . .” Mariah stuttered nervously in front of the strangers. Without any sort of lead in, she said, “Quiet waters . . . mask the dangers hiding underneath?” with an inquisitive inflection at the end. Besides the obvious oddity of the situation, Mariah felt the phrase was strange with a pseudointellectual quality when it came out of her mouth. In what world would something like that naturally come out of my mouth? Mariah thought.

Perhaps the locals thought something similar. In any case, it changed the mood. Instead of the hushed atmosphere, some of the residents returned to talking to each other in a low register. Soon after, another ghoul walked toward Mariah and Valentina while looking at the other GCU soldiers nervously. “You must be the two that our mutual friend told us about?” She said sheepishly.

Mariah nodded. “I assume so. H said that he had some information for us. I take it you will take us to meet . . . well, whoever it is we are supposed to meet.”

“Yes, but we . . . don’t have room for all your friends in the house. Is there a way they can stay outside?”

Sergeant Waller walked up as Mariah and Valentina looked to him, both unsure of how to answer. “I’m Sergeant Waller,” he introduced himself to the ghoul gruffly. “This is Commander Callahan to my right. I won’t ask you to take in everyone here, but the Commander and I will be going inside with the two of them. I urge your cooperation in this matter.” For Waller, ‘urging’ was more of a demand. The ghoul got the picture.

“Oh, uh . . . of . . . of course,” the ghoul replied slowly and nervously. Waller ordered the rest of the GCU squad to stay guard outside of the house the ghoul was taking them to. He was making it clear to the community that he was not messing around. The residents would keep to themselves as the GCU soldiers stood on watch.

Mariah, Valentina, Waller, and Callahan followed the ghoul into a two-story, faded-green house. The inside still had some restorative work that needed to be done, but it looked to have come a long way from whatever its previous state was. The ghoul lady invited them to take seats in the living room at the front of the house. Mariah and Valentina sat together on a couch while Waller and Callahan took their own leather-backed single seats. The ghoul excused herself, saying that she would return shortly and asked if they wanted any refreshments, but everyone declined. Waller and Callahan were leaning forward in their chairs with their right hands on their handgun holsters, waiting for some sort of ambush.

No ambush came. After a minute or two, the ghoul lady returned with another guest. “This man is much better suited to answering your questions.” Mariah and Valentina recognized that it was H, even though he was wearing different clothing from before.

“H? Is that you?” Mariah asked, surprised. She did not expect to see him again.

“Hello again,” he replied cordially. He had on a different outfit this time, a plain white, dirty lab coat. The label near to his left shoulder had some letters forcibly taken of, but it was clear that it once read ‘New State of Florida.’ “Yes, it is me. But also, no.”

“Huh?”

“H is just a random letter I came up with in the attempt to stay undercover until the right time. Nobody calls me that.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “My real name is Dr. Vernon Langston.”

They order purified water in the beginning. That would be interesting. In our world if we're in restaurant, we simply order "water". But I guess in their world they have to differentiate between purified and dirty.

Their opening conversation (full of talk of S.P.E.C.I.A.L. attributes) had me giggling! Radfrog omelette ... yicch!

Lol, Mayor Treadwell is reading like somebody really old-fashioned, like a cross between Thurston Howell the Third, and that guy on the Monopoly box. Southern drawling accent, for sure. But he does come across as suspicious. Or... something going on there.

And H the Ghoul is really mysterious. Indeed, how does he know so much information about the two ladies?



I like that it says this. Helps me to understand all these factions a little more.

Those final scenes are tense. I kinda suspected that H could be Langston. Goodness, this is confusing (in a good way)!

I'm debating whether it is better to break these posts up further due to the long length of time in between them. Now I've got a much bigger project in the works (I'm trying to keep it under wraps for now) that is not simply just something I do in my free time. I might break up chapters into two parts for now, even though it would be kind of awkward transitioning. I really want to keep this going, but other things keep getting in the way. The posts themselves would get shorter, so it'd probably be easier to read.

For those who are reading this story, do you have any thoughts you want to share about this idea?

Acadian, myself, and others learned a long time back that smaller chunks are more easily digestible. That is why we tend to try to keep our story posts to 1,000 words. The Stormcrow fic has had such a high word count that I tend to post it in the 2k range. Once and a great while 3k. But only if I have a single scene that takes up that whole space.

I was going to suggest you make them shorter last reading, so yes, break them up.

I agree. Then it is settled. I'll break them up into multiple parts from here on out, though they will still probably be a bit longer than what SubRosa normally does. I'll label them "15.1," "15.2," and so on, with "End of chapter" when appropriate. This will be a lot easier for all of us--those who read it won't be inundated with giant blocks of text that really stretch the browser page's length and can follow more easily, and I can get content out more easily and put less pressure on myself.

Chapter 15.1 should be coming up in the next couple of hours or so.

Chapter 15: Capital Issues

Mariah and Valentina displayed shocked looks on their faces when Langston revealed himself. Callahan was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised up at the surprise. But Waller’s expression was still unamused and irritated. If anything, his eyebrows furrowed even more. He still had one forearm resting on one leg and the opposite hand pushing down on the other leg.

“I apologize for the subterfuge,” Langston continued. “I am not fond of run-arounds. I do not normally act or talk like I have been. But I hope you will understand—"

“So you’re the son of a b---- we’ve been looking for?” Waller said, cutting off Langston. “Do you realize how much trouble you have been causing?” Mariah’s heart sank at how quickly the situation was turning sour.

“I can imagine, but I can explain why I am here,” Langston said, trying to be somewhat diplomatic.

“Oh, you better,” Waller quickly retorted. “You have 15 seconds to explain why I shouldn’t just haul you off to a cell for all of this nonsense.”

“It’s going to take a lot longer than that, but I can tell you all about what exactly is going on in Tallahassee—Old Tallahassee, as you call it—and why it needs to be stopped. I’ll even inform you all about who the Old Guard and Enclave are. Things I know are causing this GCU of yours trouble and that you know little about.” Langston’s raspy voice became sterner.

Waller sat up in his chair, mouth clenched shut as his anger simmered. While the antagonism didn’t relent, he leaned back in his chair and gave Langston a chance to air what he had to say. “Fine. I hope you have some useful intel. For your sake.”

“I do. Trust me, I’m on your side here. I do not have any love for the Old Guard, Enclave, or ‘Governor’ Davidson’s regime. Not in the slightest.”

“’Governor’ Davidson?” Mariah asked.

“Right, sorry. I have to remember that none of you have any idea what occurs in that city.” Langston took a deep breath and cleared his throat. It was clear a long-winded explanation of the entire situation was coming. “Within the past few years, a large migration of people—mostly ghouls, but there were some regular humans—from elsewhere in Florida and further north into Georgia started to file into the old city. The man who headed up this exodus is named Ezra Davidson, who I was just referring to. He was already a ghoul long before then, and both he and I were alive well before the Bombs. He used anti-ghoul sentiments to his advantage, preying upon their feelings of being outcasts. And he did the same thing with the humans that came to his fold. Humans who felt thrown away by other societies, uncared for, or had nowhere else to go.

“Davidson was a state senator from around these parts, so he knew this area incredibly well. To clarify, in the Pre-War U.S., there was a federal government, a regional ‘Commonwealth’ government, and a state government along with various local governments. He was a state-level official, and he had gubernatorial ambitions. He felt downright entitled to it. The Great War torched any sort of chance he may have had, but he had deluded himself into thinking that he was going to usher in a golden age of sorts for the state of Florida, and he was one of many officials who advocated for seceding from the United States. Various political disputes with the federal government led to similar . . . uprisings elsewhere in the country, such as the Free States in Appalachia where West Virginia used to be. But there was nothing to the scale of what Floridian officials were doing. And those officials were the forerunners of what is now called the Old Guard.”

“And how exactly do you know all this?” Callahan questioned Langston, still on the fence about trusting him. “How are you privy to what the Old Guard is about?”

“It’s an awful lot to just conjure out of thin air, don’t you think?” Langston responded with a subtle amount of irritation in his voice. “I know a lot of things about the Old Guard because I was one of the Old Guard.” Silence fell across the room at his admission. Waller was glaring at Langston. “Emphasis on the word ‘was,’ Sergeant,” Langston said, directed at Waller. “I bought into all that bull---- a long time ago. But that was over 50 years ago. The Old World is gone and so is my old self. There’s no reason to hold onto those grudges anymore, and I saw both the federal and state governments for who they really were, eventually. They share blame for many problems in this state.”

“What caused you to leave?” Waller asked. He had relaxed slightly from a moment ago, though he was still tense. “And if the Old Guard want to get into Old Tally, why wouldn’t this Ezra Davidson let them in? Is he on the outs with them too?”

“Yes, both Ezra and I left them. There had already been rifts forming between him and many of the other officials about the direction of the organization, and his ambitions of being the head government official of Florida still burned vigorously. A great, bloody schism ensued, and he took many of his loyalists with him. I had originally been on his side, but it took me some time to finally wake up and realize just how insane he was. The first chance I got after that is when I departed.”

“And how did Davidson take that?” Valentina chimed in. She was interested in the story beyond just this investigation.

“Not well,” Langston said, scoffing at the non-present Davidson. “He is not a man who takes any sort of slight, real and perceived, without responding to it. And if I were a lower rung on the ladder, Ezra would have had no qualms about having me killed. But he could not do that because he needs me. So, when he found me again, he essentially conscripted me into his service.”

“And what is it he needs you for?” Waller asked, surprisingly with little spite this time. “I guess you’re a scientist of some sort based on your lab coat. What is it that you do?”

“Ezra is a crazy son of a b----, but he is still a brilliant man. Yet he cannot do everything on his own. He’s particularly talented with all things robotics, and that is also one of my strong suits. Ezra was heavily involved in creating Pre-War automatons in this region, especially for Tallahassee, and he is attempting to resurrect many of these projects. That is far too much work for any one person, so he needs me for a lot of it. And he is trying to uncover all sorts of secrets still buried deep in Tallahassee, which he needs me for to have any hope of succeeding. Davidson truly believes that he can rebuild this area—this state—to what it once was and to even greater heights. It is never going to be what he idealized anymore, but it is a lost cause that he cannot accept. But,” Langston pointed his index finger upward for emphasis, “He is still a dangerous man that can shape much of Florida to what he wants it to be if he gets the chance. And that is something that directly impacts this GCU of yours.”

“And what kind of secrets are we talking about?”

“There are a lot of things that you would not believe, even with all the other crazy things you have seen in the wasteland. Secret biological experiments performed by the Old Guard, attempts at sabotage by the Enclave, weapons schematics, and plenty more projects of which many records have been destroyed or lost. The passage of time has contributed significantly to that. Many of these are things even I do not fully know about. Yet there is perhaps one matter that is most important to him . . .” Langston said, pausing for dramatic effect. “. . . a Vault.” Everyone in the room perked up when he said the word.

“A Vault? As in a Vault-Tec Vault?” Mariah said, making no attempt to hide her intrigue. She had heard plenty about them in her travels, but she had never set her eyes upon one for herself.

“Indeed.” Langston nodded. “Vault 100, to be specific. It is . . . one of the few things he wants of which I am not sure why. But there is evidently something in it that he wants.”

“So, when Mariah and I were trying to find some information on the Old Guard and Enclave on our own, we found a lot of sources that talked about the state and federal governments being at each other’s throats, including national companies busting into the economy down here.” Valentina asked. “But it didn’t seem like Vault-Tec had any sort of issue like that. Did they not have any sort of competition or resistance to their presence in Florida?”

“No.” Langston shook his head. “Vault-Tec was immune to the disputes between the state and national stages. There was no one else like them. There were certainly some small-scale companies that made some personal bunkers for Floridians, and sometimes people made their own bunkers. Yet they were nothing remotely comparable to the capabilities and resources of Vault-Tec. Despite the political climate, everyone still wanted and needed the services of that corporation.”

“So, there is a Vault here!” Mariah said excitedly. “I have always wanted to see one! Where is it?” Waller was not pleased at her enthusiasm, but Mariah was too focused on possibly seeing a Vault to notice.

“Therein lies the issue: We don’t know. It has been over half-a-century since that happened and the information has been evasive. And that’s why Ezra needs me. But there is still a lot he can do on his own, and that spells immediate trouble for all of us. All of these refugees coming into the city? Most of them are from what you call ‘Old’ Tallahassee. Despite your treatment of us, people would rather take their chances here than in that prison of a city. It was billed as a haven for the outcast ghouls and humans that came there, but many found out the truth. It was all a farce, even though Davidson is also a ghoul and a pariah in his own right. He has his own plans.”

“I don’t take kindly to your characterization of how we operate, Langston.” Waller said, getting annoyed again. “We do not single out people here. We are here to keep the peace, and many of these expats here have disturbed that. And we stop the longer-residing citizens as soon as they get out of line, too.”

“And I do not take kindly to your refusal to be introspective about how your GCU and city guard operates here,” Langston shot back, his raspy voice hitting a lower tone. He was losing patience. “In your attempts to ‘keep the peace,’ your actions have only caused more unrest.”

Waller stood up quickly and jabbed his finger in Langston’s direction. “The city guard is separate from my forces. Any problems you have, you can take it up with the lousy excuse of a mayor that this city has.” It was the first time that Mariah and Valentina heard an explicit opinion of the chief executive of the city come straight from the sergeant’s mouth. “We do our jobs at the GCU. Mayor Treadwell exhibits nothing but incompetence.”

“I am no more thrilled about this situation than you are, sergeant,” Langston said angrily. “I would argue I am even less so. Yet the fact of the matter is that we need each other to resolve the problem that Ezra, the Old Guard, and the Enclave pose. You and your GCU need my allies and I. We need all of you as well. We went to Mariah and Valentina here because we know where their hearts and minds are at. Maybe you and the rest of the GCU leadership could take a damn page out of their playbooks for once.”

“These two young women are very fine agents,” Waller yelled at Langston, pointing to Mariah and Valentina. “But we also know damn well what we are doing! Maybe we’d more trusting of you and your cohorts if you came directly to us instead of operating in the shadows!”

The next few moments were filled with Langston and Waller trying to talk over each other. Mariah couldn’t handle it anymore. “Sergeant! Dr. Langston! Please stop!” Mariah yelled. The two of them stopped talking and looked in her direction. Waller was not pleased at what he saw as insubordination and talking out of turn. “Please, Sergeant Waller,” she continued. “He’s right. We need each other to take these guys out. There are too many of them to take on alone. We need all the allies we can get.” Mariah took a deep breath. “Dr. Langston, what about the Enclave then? I get the whole state versus federal thing, but how do you know about the Enclave specifically?”

Langston nodded his head in her direction. “I knew we could count on you and Ms. Valentina here to understand. If the Old Guard are the remnants of the ‘shadow government’ of Florida, then the Enclave is that of the U.S. in Washington, D.C. Countless attempts at sabotage and subterfuge Pre-War made both sides aware of the other’s existence. Some of those operations would come into the public light, but civilians and even other government officials were not aware of the respective organizations that would become the Enclave and the Old Guard. Relatively few officials and political players in Florida were part of the Old Guard, and the same goes for those in D.C. and the Enclave. But those who were members were the puppet-masters of everything.” Langston stopped what he was going to say next, changing course to a different topic. “A truly in-depth examination of either group would take far too much time that we do not possess. Time is of the essence. I can tell you more when the time comes up, but we need to begin plans of how we are going to defeat Ezra and his minions. They are currently the biggest threat. Then we can formulate how to defeat the Old Guard and the Enclave.”

Waller grudgingly acknowledged that Mariah had been right to ease tensions in the room, though he did not vocalize it. “Okay, Dr. Langston. Then how do we do that? The city seems to be locked down pretty tight, though you apparently escaped with others. I’m sure that we will need to get in there.”

“You are correct,” Langston nodded. “Both you and I will need to gather some allies to fully discuss what must be done. Take this.” Langston handed the sergeant a stack of papers bound together. “This will explain the inner workings of the city, of Ezra, the Old Guard, the Enclave, and more. I was able to smuggle out some of the New State of Florida’s official documents, but I know of a place where I can retrieve more. When you internalize the information, we can formulate a course of action.”

Waller stood there looking at the stack of papers as he took them from Langston, barely acknowledging that he heard him. He addressed Langston again after a moment of silence. “Alright, Langston. We will look this over in the meantime. Meet us at our station tomorrow, early in the afternoon. Make it 2:00 PM. I’m sure we’ll have something figured out then.”

“As you wish.” Langston replied. He turned to Mariah and Valentina. “And I cannot thank the two of you enough for this. When this situation is resolved, I will repay my debt to you in some fashion.”

“It’s what we’re here for,” Valentina said with a bright smile. “We want to end this problem just as much as you do.”

“Although payment wouldn’t hurt,” Mariah said jokingly. Waller conspicuously cleared his throat to indicate that it was time to go that instant. He was still not pleased with the fact that Langston had gone directly to low-ranking agents of the GCU instead of him. Mariah and Valentina got the not-so-subtle hint and followed him out the door.

Chapter 15.2

As Mariah, Valentina, Waller, and Callahan stepped outside, they could hear a commotion right near where the GCU soldiers that accompanied them were ordered by Waller to wait. But their opponents were not residents of the district, as Waller and Callahan initially expected—it was some of the city guards. A shoving match ensued between them as well as some choice words, though it had not quite come to blows yet. It was the first blatant demonstration to Mariah and Valentina of how the rivalry between the city government and the greater GCU extended beyond just the grudge between Mayor Treadwell and the duo of Walker and Callahan.

“Hey!” Waller shouted, power-walking over to the scuffle. Residents of the district watched quietly and nervously as the tensions simmered. “What the f--- do you wannabe bada---s think you are doing to my crew?” The question was directed at those city guards. Waller got right up in front of a couple of the city guards’ faces, looking like he was spoiling for a fight himself.

“What a surprise, Mr. Big D--- is interfering with city affairs again,” one of them said, stepping out to ‘greet’ Waller. His distinctive uniform compared to the rest of the city guard already made it clear that he was at least the leader this outfit, and the badge signifying ‘Captain’ evidenced that he oversaw the entire law enforcement arm of New Tallahassee. Their confrontation prompted the GCU and city parties to stop their own altercation and focus on the two leaders. “Always with the tough guy act, desperately trying to compensate for his tiny p----.”

“Gibson, you’re lucky I don’t rip your Godd--- face off,” Waller growled. “You can’t keep the order in your own city, so we have to do it for you.”

“And what a swimming job you are doing of it!” Gibson shot back, extending his arms and looking around to indicate he was referring to the recent events in New Tally. “You have always been so full of s---, Waller. We were doing just fine until you showed up acting like you owned the damn place.”

“In case you forgot, lowly city captain, I’m a Godd--- sergeant of the GCU military,” Waller said. While he was grumpy the whole night, he was really fired up now. “I don’t answer to you. Unlike you, I actually demonstrated some competence to get to where I am.”

“Yeah? Is that why the GCU can barely keep the peace within its borders?” Gibson retorted. “All these outside organizations running rampant in these lands and you want to talk competence? You mistake failing upward for being successful. You’re always escaping responsibility. Tell me, how many jockstraps did you have to sniff to get where you are now?” Mariah and Valentina were shocked at the language the two officials so brazenly leveled at each other in public. Gibson noticed the two of them standing there. “Great, did you brainwash more people into your little personality cult?”

“Isn’t it your daily ritual to go f--- yourself at this time?” Waller got right into Gibson’s face, ignoring his question. There was little room left to get closer. “Or was that hourly? Probably the latter since you’re never doing your job.”

“You’re all flash and talk, little man.” Gibson was not referring to Waller’s height—both were around six feet and two inches tall. Neither man was intimidated by the other. “All words because you have nothing else noteworthy about you. And when you inevitably fail again, who is going to take the fall for you this time? Hmm? These two lovely women here?” Gibson pointed to Mariah and Valentina. They were still standing there with their mouths open, dumbfounded at what was transpiring in front of them. “I’m sorry you have to see this, ladies. Your commanding officer here is a snake, so you better watch yourselves for when he turns to bite you instead. ‘Responsibility’ is not in his vocabulary.”

“You want some ‘fancy’ words, hotshot?!” Waller snapped. “How’s this? Your constant references to size are what is called ‘projection.’ You always felt the need to compare yourself to me.”

“Ha! Believe what you want, Waller. And your comebacks are as bad as your leadership capability. Now, why don’t you run back to that mutual brown-nosing fest of yours at the GCU station? We have jobs to do.”

“Already did my job here, Gibby. Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like that nickname,” Waller said sarcastically.

“Case in point about your comebacks,” Gibson said, though his face betrayed the fact that ‘Gibby’ really did bother him as a nickname. “Actually, that’s the one thing that is worse than your ability to lead. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some work to take care of.”

“Work that I’m sure we will have to take care of for you later,” Waller replied. They were already walking away from each other with their respective squads in tow, but they still faced each other to trade some more verbal blows.

“Your work is too hard for you, so you try to claim credit for that of other people. So pathetic. Until next time, Waller.” Gibson said, ending their exchange. He and Waller flipped each other two middle fingers and finally went their separate ways.

Mariah and Valentina had no words, only able to look at each other with their mouth opens as if to ask each other if that really did just happen. Even if they did have something to say, Waller’s temper at the moment made them very reluctant to do so. The entire squad walked in silence toward the main gate into the district. It was amazing that the confrontation did not turn into an all-out brawl.

When they were back in the main part of the city, Waller finally spoke up again, first toward the other GCU soldiers. “See you in the morning, people. Go about your regularly scheduled duties.” Now it was time for him to address the other three. “Mariah and Valentina, come in tomorrow morning so we can go over the next plan of action with you and prepare for the meeting with Langston in the afternoon. Things are going to start moving very quickly. Commander Callahan, come with me to the station so we can look over what Langston just gave us.”

“Yes, sir.” Callahan replied. He had been quiet for almost the whole night. “Have a good night, ladies.”

“You too,” they muttered back and departed in the other direction.

As they walked toward the room they were given to stay in during their time in New Tallahassee, Mariah and Valentina were initially quiet. What could you really say after that incident? It took a minute before Mariah was the one to break the ice. “Well, that was . . . something.”

“Yeah,” Valentina said, relieved that Mariah was the first to say something. “Things are worse here than we thought. I’m really worried, Mariah. We have at least three outside organizations to deal with in this region, but it feels like we are on the verge of destroying ourselves. How are we supposed to defeat the New State of Florida, or the Old Guard, or the Enclave, or even resolve the ghoul situation if the GCU and the city government are openly at each other’s throats?”

“We’ll figure it out, Val,” Mariah assured her, though even she had trouble believing her own words. “We have to.”

“You know, I’m really glad I did not have to come here on my own. This already feels overwhelming. I just hope that Dr. Langston knows what he is doing. This New State of Florida appears to have far more resources at its disposal than the Brotherhood or the Dissidents could have ever hoped to have.”

“But they haven’t faced the dynamic duo of Mariah and Valentina before!” Mariah said, lightly and playfully punching Valentina’s right arm.

“Heh. I guess you’re right.” Valentina chuckled, flashing her pretty smile. They gave each other a side hug. “Come on. It’s time to go get some shut-eye. I imagine we have a big day ahead of us.”

***End of Chapter***

15.1 Ah-ha, so Langston the Ghoul was once a part of this Old Guard, which is causing all sorts of havoc and confusion among the upper management of GCU. I would pay a dollar just to hear how a ghoul pronounces the word 'schism' by the way.

That part about Vault-Tec being allowed to do what they do without resistance from politicians or governments is interesting. And just in general, there are a lot of directions their discussion is going. I may have to backtrack to the previous battle in fact, just so I remember how Langston fits in (because my memory sucks) so I'll do that then finish 15.2 later.

15.2 Wow, these folks really hate each other!

Off-topic, but I think some of the bleeps might be okay, right? Like goddamn should be okay, can one of the moderators chime in on this? I'm just asking because in my own stories it seems like I've had characters say goddamn or badass. Only the actual four-letter words should be bleepable, right? I would say the B word has its place on the *BLEEP* list here and there, other times it might be okay? Depends, I guess. Hmm.

Well I guess it depends on what I'd accept my teenager reading, maybe even saying occasionally. I don't want to hear her saying four-letter words in my presence. There are times when goddamn or ass might be okay. Depends, I guess.

Please continue this.

I'm glad that you are still invested in this. I hadn't really had the time to write more, but I just returned to doing some tonight. Perhaps I should give it a bit more time before posting, but I feel fairly confident that it is satisfactory. Plans for this chapter and the rest of Part 2 have still been stewing in my head for quite a while.

So, without further ado, we begin Chapter 16.

Chapter 16.1

The morning sun was considerate enough to not beat down the land with searing heat. There was a light breeze in the air. In Pre-War Florida, this was about the time of year where there could start being legitimately cool, even cold, days. Apparently, even the Post-War weather, irrevocably altered by the bombs, could be at a reasonable temperature at times. Whatever was in store today, at least Mariah and Valentina would not have to worry about passing out.

The two women stepped into the GCU station and found that Langston was already there with Waller and Callahan, despite originally being scheduled to come in the afternoon. As if he could read their minds, Langston answered their questions before they could even ask them. “Change in plans, you two,” he said in a gravelly voice typical of ghouls. “The Sergeant and I decided that it was best to just proceed with our plans as soon as possible.”

“And what exactly are those plans?” Mariah asked. She did not expect that a course of action would already be mapped out.

“Langston says there is an old, isolated facility that he used to escape Old Tally,” Waller replied. “Based on what he has told us and some of the documents he was be able to smuggle out, there is a giant network of tunnels that the Old Guard had constructed beneath the city and the surrounding lands before the War. How they managed that is beyond me, but that is what we are dealing with.”

“A considerable number of sinkholes cropped up in this region of the wastes,” Langston added. “The bombs that dropped in this area hit with such significant force that they were forced open. Sinkholes posed a serious problem even across Pre-War Florida and the bombs exacerbated the issue. Some survivors believe that the U.S. government itself may have bombed the state capital when it was clear that China and every other nuclear power were unleashing their atomic arsenal.”

“Oh my God,” Valentina said, horrified. “Why would the U.S. do that to their own people?”

“You must remember, Val, that these two governments loathed each other with every fiber of their being.” Langston said, shaking his head. “Hatred can drive human beings to commit the most heinous atrocities, even to those who are supposed to be fellow citizens. The most hateful people can massacre each other simply out of spite. If it were not for China, Florida and D.C. would potentially have been the most bitter rivalry in the world. Hence, the Old Guard and Enclave still continue this bloody feud over a half-century later.”

“But if the Enclave was the federal government, why do they care so much about Florida?” Mariah asked. “I would think they have interests throughout what used to be the United States, right? Why here? Is it really all about spite and old grudges?”

“I highly doubt it,” Langston said. “These are two groups that hold grudges better than almost anyone else, but the Enclave would not send some of their forces down here if there were not more to the story. They do not possess that many resources. I have enough insight about them to know they are going to be aware of some of the technology that was in Florida and actively looking for it. Florida was a hotbed of scientific discovery and advancement from medicine to astronomy to biology and so on. It is the proverbial killing of two birds with one stone—they can claim potent Pre-War tech while simultaneously thwarting those who are currently their most bitter enemies. That is more than enough incentive for the Enclave to get involved here.”

“You think they know about Vault 100?”

“I am positive they have some information on it. Vault-Tec was in bed with the federal government, though do not assume that meant they were completely opposed to working with the state government. Vault-Tec was too important economically and politically for D.C. to punish them for working with Florida to some extent. So, the Old Guard will have some level of awareness about it, too.”

“Then why has neither of them already found the Vault?” Valentina asked. “And why do they not know more about Old Tally now?”

“The all-encompassing destruction of the Great War,” Langston sighed, as if vividly remembering the hours when the bombs dropped. “Countless people died, including many of those who would have close knowledge about the Vaults. Many of the databases of the world were lost or destroyed, so any that have survived have to be recovered. That includes data on the Vaults. And many decades have passed, which inevitably leads to a loss of records because they were not maintained.”

Sergeant Waller had been audibly tapping his foot, waiting for their conversation to finish. He finally interrupted, speaking with more than a hint of annoyance. Perhaps there was still a bit of seething from last night’s encounter with Captain Gibson. “Okay, folks, let’s save the chit-chat for the trip. Time is of the essence here. Langston is going to bring us to this facility we talked about earlier and we need to get moving as soon as possible. He says that there is more critical data there that he could not bring back or does not know about.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Langston replied. “Indeed, we must commence the journey. I could only carry so much, and I did not have any more holotapes or room in my folders to take some of the data with me. Some of the facility’s data I do not even know about. It could potentially enlighten us more about Ezra’s goals. Perhaps it could tell us more about what the Old Guard and Enclave are looking for as well. There are many secrets buried beneath the landscape. Some of them living.”

“Huh?” Mariah said with a puzzled look. “Living? Like what?”

“I . . . I do not know.” It was the first time that the group had seen Langston seem dumbfounded. “There were beasts that I have never encountered previously. I may have been Old Guard at one point, but I was not privy to all their experiments and projects. They are not your average monstrosity that you have confronted in these wastes. I had no chance against them and was fortunate to escape with my life. Be prepared for what is to come.”

“That is why we are taking an entire squad with us,” Sergeant Waller said. “About 25 people. We don’t know what else we will meet face-to-face with on the way there. But we’re by no means taking a whole army with us. Commander Callahan, you hold down the fort in this city until we return.”

“Yes, sir.” Callahan said, saluting. “Good luck, people. Stay safe.” He then left the room.

“Worse than Radfrogs, Radtoads, and Sirens?” Mariah quipped dismissively, though beneath her confidence there was a bit of trepidation at the unknown. “I have seen some pretty nasty wildlife already.” Valentina looked at her quizzically, then shook her head. Mariah looked back at her. “What?”

“I don’t know if you are just psyching yourself up, Mariah, but you’re reverting back to your not-taking-danger-seriously self. That has already gotten you into trouble many times.” Valentina replied. “And did you forget that dreadnaught we saw at Tyndall? Chief White-Feather had to kill it with a Fat Man, for goodness’ sake!” Mariah felt a bit embarrassed. She knew that Valentina was right about the attitude.

Waller was unamused by Mariah’s bravado. “You have not seen anything yet if that is all you can refer to. I don’t know what awaits us in this facility, but there are plenty more horrors than you have seen in these wastes. And if these really aren’t anything like what is on the surface, like Langston says, then we are in for a wild ride. Time to round up the troops and be on our way. The facility is somewhat close to Old Tally where you can see the old city, but they should not be able to spot us. Now, enough talk. Grab some Stimpaks and ammo. We can discuss more of the plan on the way.”