by Max Barry

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The Moonsund Lands wrote:

Take me to your leader - II

The Selenians gives the city an appraising eye. To them, it seems almost as though the monarchy stays in more squalor than the merchants. They debate what reflection this may have on the balance of power - whether it means the merchants control the nation, or it simply means that the King is close to his people. They consider following the merchant to the inn. However, they instead decide to try their luck with the guards. Misha hesitatingly draws the attention of two, while the others follow at a respectable distance - though Lukas ensures his red medallion is plainly visible, like a talisman to ward off being perceived as a crackpot.

Misha Yusupov: "Sir, we are emissaries, on behalf of His Excellency, Supreme Chancellor Koski of the Baltic Federation, here to pay our respects. We are strangers to this land, but wish to know if it would be possible, and what steps would be necessary, to apply for an audience.."

Nieuw Brussel: The way to the Palace

One of the guards reacted, listening to what the stranger had to say. The other guard looked at the man's companions without saying a word.

When Misha finished, the guard listening to him turned to the other guard and spoke to him in Flemish: "Do you know a Baltic federation?" The other guard replied, "No, I don't know anything about it".

The guard turned back to Misha and started to speak politely to Misha, "If you've come to pay your respects to the king, you can go to the palace, we'll lead you there, sir. Come, please. Oh and by the way, welcome to our city" The man started walking as he turned to face the strangers, then continued to face the street he was walking on, "However, I don't know if you'll be accepted as emissaries, I've never heard of your Koski, or your federation, but I've never seen a king refuse an audience, not since I started working here 25 years ago, although sometimes you have to wait for them to come back. Ah, you don't need to bow or anything, King Albert isn't really a traditionalist, just if he speaks don't cut him off and wait for him to let you speak."

As the strangers followed him, he took them first to the main square, where most of the buildings had been restored in Art Deco and some in some sort of neo-gothic style. Like a guide to tourists, he said, "This is the main square, the Town Hall is that building". He pointed to a large neo-Gothic building, part of which was still under construction. "It's still difficult to build it seems, but fortunately, the temple-university of Leuven had the plans. As far back as I can remember, it has always been under construction ahahah maybe one day my grandchildren will see it finished, but if you ever need papers and authorisations, this is the place to come. The building over there is the Cloth Hall, and although you'll find merchants everywhere, this building concentrates the craftsmen's guilds, and as the name suggests our speciality is cloth, sheets, clothing, tapestries and carpets. The other buildings are just cultural buildings like the theatre, but I'm sure that's not why you came." He laughed a little. "We're almost there, you see the building over there with the black flag and the yellow lion? That means the king is here."

He continued up the street. From the square, the area changed from narrow streets to richly decorated buildings, well spaced out and, above all, well guarded. "Here we are in the Bourse district, the place where your purse will be best protected. The building on our right is a place that should interest you. We have foreigners from the east and the isles who come just for this building. It's the place where all the big companies and investors come together, and across the street, you have the bank. If you're short on currency but have an account, you can stock your money here, bills of change are also exchanged here. It's much more practical than carrying your purse around with you. On the other hand, beware of fraud, theft is worse than murder for bankers and merchants," he said, laughing. "Here we are, the royal palace. I'll go and get someone, don't move". The guard left, his partner continuing to watch over the men. After about twenty minutes, the guard returned accompanied by a smartly dressed man.

The man spoke French with a Flemish accent, "Good day gentlemen, this guard warned me that you were emissaries. May I ask who I am to announce and why you are here, please ?"

Loyal's Birthday
POP!!!

The cork from the champagne bottle flew across the hangar, hitting the far wall with a soft thud before falling to the floor. The gathered Boomers (and select invited outsiders) laughed as the foaming vintage poured briefly out of the bottle and all over one of the nearby guests. "Happy birthday, Loyal!" they all cheered.

With that, the dinner began, and the guests began to mingle. Veronica, in attendance as a sort of "guest of state", made her way over to where the older man was standing, by the cake now being cut and served up alongside juicy bighorner steaks. "Congratulations on another year, Loyal," she said with a bright smile.

"I guess I should be thankful," Loyal replied. "These old joints sure ain't, though," he said, causing everyone standing nearby to chuckle. "But I appreciate the thought, Princess."

Veronica's cheeks reddened, and she lifted her free hand (the other holding a glass of champagne). "If you were anyone else..." she said, only half-mockingly. "Just for that, I won't give you your present."

"A present for this old man? Oh, Veronica, you shouldn't have. I'm too old to need anything."

"Really?" Veronica asked, a twinkle in her eyes. "I can take it back if that's the way you feel. It's too bad, I think you'd really've liked it."

"No, no, it's okay... but... uh, what was it going to be, out of curiosity?"

"Well, why don't you see for yourself?" Veronica said. In a swift and sudden movement, she put her fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly. Instantly, the hangar doors flew open - the main doors meant for the aircraft - and in rolled about a dozen securitrons, carrying an airplane between them. Loyal's eyes widened when he saw it. "What in the Lady's name is that?" he breathed.

"That, Loyal, is your present," Veronica replied, giggling. "According to the documentation, it's a Chinese MiG-15. A prospector found it in an old museum near Zion, along with a bunch of other planes in... much less repair. I figured you'd know better what to do with it than I did."

Loyal walked up to the plane, which the securitrons had by now set carefully down on the hangar floor, and ran his hand over the lines. "She's a beauty," he said, tears brimming in his eyes.

"It's Vegas' gift to you, and all the Boomers," Veronica replied. She lifted her champagne glass. "Happy birthday, Loyal."

Nearby, the King looked askance at one of his bodyguards. "Now how in Elvis' name are we supposed to top that?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Western Sky Aviation Warbird Museum looted: https://www.westernskywarbirds.org/warbird-fleet.html
1 MiG-15 saved for restoration
8 other planes scrapped for 40 tech docs

Asset Evaluation 7

The Chancellor carefully strode through the Fortress's interior halls. Despite the limited space and dim lighting, the bright, happy colours made it feel like some sort of model room, in a long lost store. With no windows, the place made him feel a little disoriented, like a trapped rat. He figured the General knew all this, and perhaps thought to throw him off balance. He wouldn't let it work. Koski increased the pace a little, and readjusted his robe's high collar. At least the command room had the warmth of lamplight, and of familiarity. Though redone in concrete, it still retained the vaulted ceiling of what had once been a chapel. Officers at desks and radio stations briefly paused their work, and stood up, in the customary sign of respect. He returned a little uncomfortable half-wave, as did the two Elders behind him. At the centre, the head of the military, expression unreadable, saluted, and offered seats.

General Hilda Hammer: "Comrades of the Federal Council, thank you for coming. I hope the facilities at ONYX KEEP are to your liking."

Supreme Chancellor Finnbarr Koski: "Ehm, yes, thank you, General. Nothing like these walls to hold discussions in confidence, yes?"

Elder Piret Janson: "It's a shame to see the place change so much, though. I've played around the grounds of Kuressaare castle ever since I was a little girl."

General Hilda Hammer: "A necessary measure for security, ma'am. Now, Mr. Perrin is here to report - put the cigarette out, please - on the situation in Bretagne."

Brevet Captain Bernard Perrin: "Sigh... of course, madame. Needless to say, my mercenaires are holding the frontier. The thugs of the Perrot have launched a few probing attacks, without success. Mais - er, I fear that if you insist on withdrawing your warship, they may soon attack in force. My men are scarce, without the blessing of the Company proper - it may end in our defeat."

Captain-General Matthias Petravicius: "It's only temporary. The Devastation will be back for fire support as soon as she can be spared, you'll have to hold until then."

Commander Sofia Saika: "That's the problem with stretching ourselves thin, Chancellor. You can't expect a bear flag to render our garrisons invincible. We may need to call up more reservists."

Chancellor Koski: "I'll ensure you receive approval. What about the political situation?"

Elder Piret Janson: "Yeah.. outraged locals? Protests from us occupying a portion of such a radically different land? Spies, sabotage? What are we dealing with?"

Brevet Captain Bernard Perrin: "Perhaps it may surprise you, madame, that you may have somewhat of the opposite issue. With access to a more prosperous land not under siege, many people from Quimper have simply, well, packed up and moved. To here. If you aren't an administrator or a soldier, there are few opportunities to be had - amber is most common on the Baltic coast, yes? It would have been difficult for them to even get a hold of coin for trade. Many of the remaining villagers on the peninsula well, only speak Breton. Even many of my mercenaries have no idea how to communicate with them."

Supreme Chancellor Koski: "A grave issue. Yet in other ways, a boon for us. Just as you said, Voldemars. With a Federation of Estonians, Latvians, and now Danes and Frenchmen, and the need to conduct business with our Swiss allies, French may be the most plausible option for a common economic language. If you will, a lingua franca - oh, hey!"

Elder Janson: "That's grand, but if we wanna crack the code of talking to, and, y'know, taxing our celtic speaking residents, we'll have encourage some of their more urban friends to start moving back. The money issue's serious, though, Chancellor - we might have hit the limit of how far using a precious stone as currency can go. Have you seen the exchequer's suggestion?"

Supreme Chancellor Koski: "Certainly. A fine plan, though a matter for later discussion. I believe we have other matters of military importance to attend to."

General Hammer: "The situation on Gotland has improved greatly. Since our troops starting ducking in and out of tunnels, communication has been intermittent. As combating so many robots is dependent on naval fire support, this has been an issue. The first radio sets have been arriving on the island, though, and it's practically solved our coordination problems."

Captain-General Petravicius: "Yet if you'll recall, landing operations started off as a downright mess. I hope the twin parliaments will take my own proposal seriously, for a specialized naval landing force. I understand that the regular troops will still be needed in amphibious operations, but they're probably not the best people for getting that initial foothold."

Supreme Chancellor Koski: "I see. Fine news. Yet I believe you know why I requested this meeting, General. The Home Guard's performance during the Siege of Liepaja remains... disappointing, and even embarrassing for my administration. For Kuu's sake, the Prussians have still have muskets, and they've held on for months! What, because of a little wind? I hope you'll at least be able to present a victory before the election season."

General Hammer: "Chancellor. I'm a soldier, not a politician."

Supreme Chancellor Koski: "Don't give me that. You're an administrator, not on the front line. You balance insufferables, such as myself, to ensure your position, and the resources and funding you wish for. I'm afraid you do qualify as a politician."

Commander Sofia Saika: "If I could, your excellency. At any time, the troops could have stormed into Liepaja, and I do believe they'd have won. Whilst suffering outsized casualties. We haven't wasted this time. We've improved our supply situation, brought up armor and artillery. We've steadily demolished their defenses. We've swept the back lines clean of mutant beasts. We've brought in naval assets, and cut the Prussian supply line. That's the other reason we asked you here, sir - we're finally ready to move in, on your order."

General Hammer: "You see now, Chancellor? We've traded time to save lives. You'll have your victory."

Supreme Chancellor Koski: "Fine words, General, but I'll hold you to that. Are all these radios just for show? Contact our forces around Liepaja. Tell them to attack."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Currency:

Amber will no longer be the primary currency of the Baltic Federation, and will instead be collected as a reserve, to back to the new Mark. The stones will be removed from circulation over the course of the next two tax seasons. The newly minted Marks will be made available for a 1:1 exchange at banks in each region's capital. If no bank exists, a special government booth will be made available at local markets.

The base unit is the Mark, which is worth 20 Skillings, or 240 Pfennings. There are also a number of less important subunits - for example, 5 Skillings make a Daler, which is fixed to the equivalent value of a cap or euro.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Immigration:
-- 9,250 from 3 immigration rolls, and pertinent perk

Research:
-- Current focus is Chemistry 6, with 270/1063 points, after relevant research cost reduction bonuses
-- 300 tech docs have been accumulated, and are to be earmarked for a certain something.

Finished Construction:
-- x10 Farm->Mechanized Farm Upgrades complete.
-- x12 Farms complete.
-- Pillboxes completed, Bornholm island.
-- Roads, Airstrip, Telegraph, Radio, and Pillboxes complete, Finistere.
-- 1 small steam freighter, the Saint Platon, has been launched.
-- Scrap Fort complete, Copenhagen.

New Construction:
-- A Pilot Academy is beginning construction, thus spending the 300 previously mentioned tech documents. 23 RL days.
-- x10 Farm->Mechanized Farm upgrades underway. 6 RL days.
-- Scrap Fort->Concrete Fortress upgrade underway, Copenhagen. 6 RL days.
-- Harbour->Port upgrade underway, Saaremaa island. 6 RL days.
-- The Small Factory found in Finistere is undergoing repairs. After repairs, it will immediately be upgraded to a medium factory, and the necessary funds have already been put aside.
-- A second Rita Maersk class small freighter has been laid down.

Production Lines:
-- An additional medium factory has been opened in Tallinn.
-- The Meisterworks Morgana Panel Van (Citroen Type H, yes, the one cat turns into in persona 5) has entered production.
-- The line of infantry mortars has been replaced by short-range portable backpack radios (class: light weapons).
-- Production of mortars has been moved to the new factory, as well as a line of field guns. These two lines may be occasionally merged to produce larger guns for naval vessels, and the requisite costs will be applied.
-- A line has been opened in order to produce Dragunov marksman rifles.
-- Upon the revelation that we can make firearms more modern than 1968, a line has been opened for Saiga-12 automatic shotguns.

Home Guard:
-- 5 out of the 10 produced armoured trains are now fully armed and active.
-- The first 3 Renault FTs have entered service, currently subordinated to the armoured train regiment. Tank crew will be hired to man them as they arrive.
-- The 9th Independent Regiment has been created from newly hired soldiers: 500 infantry, 100 cannoneers, 200 assault engineers, and 200 logistics troops. It will be deployed to Finistere, France.
-- The Sea Jaegers Battalion has been created, subordinate to the coast guard. 500 naval infantry, 100 logistics troops have been hired. They will be deployed to supplement the Cleanser forces at the Odense and Gotland outposts.

Griezelland wrote:

Nieuw Brussel: The way to the Palace

One of the guards reacted, listening to what the stranger had to say. The other guard looked at the man's companions without saying a word.

When Misha finished, the guard listening to him turned to the other guard and spoke to him in Flemish: "Do you know a Baltic federation?" The other guard replied, "No, I don't know anything about it".

The guard turned back to Misha and started to speak politely to Misha, "If you've come to pay your respects to the king, you can go to the palace, we'll lead you there, sir. Come, please. Oh and by the way, welcome to our city" The man started walking as he turned to face the strangers, then continued to face the street he was walking on, "However, I don't know if you'll be accepted as emissaries, I've never heard of your Koski, or your federation, but I've never seen a king refuse an audience, not since I started working here 25 years ago, although sometimes you have to wait for them to come back. Ah, you don't need to bow or anything, King Albert isn't really a traditionalist, just if he speaks don't cut him off and wait for him to let you speak."

As the strangers followed him, he took them first to the main square, where most of the buildings had been restored in Art Deco and some in some sort of neo-gothic style. Like a guide to tourists, he said, "This is the main square, the Town Hall is that building". He pointed to a large neo-Gothic building, part of which was still under construction. "It's still difficult to build it seems, but fortunately, the temple-university of Leuven had the plans. As far back as I can remember, it has always been under construction ahahah maybe one day my grandchildren will see it finished, but if you ever need papers and authorisations, this is the place to come. The building over there is the Cloth Hall, and although you'll find merchants everywhere, this building concentrates the craftsmen's guilds, and as the name suggests our speciality is cloth, sheets, clothing, tapestries and carpets. The other buildings are just cultural buildings like the theatre, but I'm sure that's not why you came." He laughed a little. "We're almost there, you see the building over there with the black flag and the yellow lion? That means the king is here."

He continued up the street. From the square, the area changed from narrow streets to richly decorated buildings, well spaced out and, above all, well guarded. "Here we are in the Bourse district, the place where your purse will be best protected. The building on our right is a place that should interest you. We have foreigners from the east and the isles who come just for this building. It's the place where all the big companies and investors come together, and across the street, you have the bank. If you're short on currency but have an account, you can stock your money here, bills of change are also exchanged here. It's much more practical than carrying your purse around with you. On the other hand, beware of fraud, theft is worse than murder for bankers and merchants," he said, laughing. "Here we are, the royal palace. I'll go and get someone, don't move". The guard left, his partner continuing to watch over the men. After about twenty minutes, the guard returned accompanied by a smartly dressed man.

The man spoke French with a Flemish accent, "Good day gentlemen, this guard warned me that you were emissaries. May I ask who I am to announce and why you are here, please ?"

The four follow along happily, attentively listening to the tour. Or at least, pretending to. The young Estonian butler is practically spellbound by the details of the exotic city, and his awe for someone who could serve as many as 25 years, and forgets to translate. Artur does his best with the more important details. In particular, the news of the king being a bit of a modernist lifts their spirits greatly - they've clearly worried a fair bit about this meeting, based purely on preconceived notions, and they're glad to dispel them.

Upon seeing the Flemish attendant, Misha smiles to himself, wondering whether in terms of roles, he's met his peer. Putting that thought aside, he turns to his extensive knowledge of courtly protocol (gained from two novels he skimmed). He puts his hand on his heart, then turns it in a sweeping motion to the other three.

Misha Yusupov: "Good day, sir! That's correct, we represent the Baltic Federation, a maritime trading nation from the Moonsund Islands, past the Danish belts. May I present myself - the head servant to the Federation's Supreme Chancellor, as well Sir Lightstone - Knight of the Order of the Carnation, and lastly, Misters Thorne and Pitka, commanding officers in the Federation's armed forces. We have heard tell of this North Sea Kingdom, neighbouring our bases in the Baltic. Thus we been charged by our government with learning of, and seeking to establish friendly relations with the Kingdom. As well as trade, if permission is obtained."

Nuka-realm

The New Overboss

Kieran walked through the locker room, or at least he figured it was a locker room. He grabbed a few mags for his rifle off of a shelf and looked around. There were bodies piled in a corner of the room, blood splattered all over the walls, floors, and even the ceilings. Kieran turned away and gagged, it smelt of death and rot in there. Kieran wondered just what he had gotten himself into, that guy Harvey... played Kieran for sure, no doubt about it.

"Hey, over you you meathead." Kieran heard a crackly voice, his attention was drawn to the intercom. He walked over to it.

"Who is this?" Kieran asked into the intercom.

"I'm the guy who's gonna get you out of this alive, my name is Gage, Porter Gage, and I'm sure by now you've deduced what you're getting into here." The voice said.

"That guy in the power armor, I'm gonna fight him huh?" Kieran asked.

"Yep, only the fight is rigged, his suit is electrically charged and it's immune to most forms of damage."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a Raider, to be honest," Kieran said, shrugging.

"You know us well then. Listen, I stashed a tool in the locker room. A... gun of sorts, it'll help you win."

"Huh... alright." Kieran searched around the locker room, he didn't see much, there were a few guns but that clearly wasn't what Gage meant. He did see a water gun on one of the lockers.

"It's not this water gun is it?" Kieran joked he picked it up.

"Yep, that's it." The voice confirmed, Kieran walked over to the intercom.

"Are you serious? How is this gonna-"

"Calm down, it's filled with water. When the water hits that asshole in the suit, Colter, it'll cause a short, it'll give you a chance to put a bullet in him."

"This... this is-"

"You don't have much time, listen we'll talk after. If you make it out of this we'll have a lot to discuss." The intercom cut out. Kieran walked down the hallway to the door to the arena.

Kieran slung his rifle over his back and drew the water gun. He gave it a few practice shots at the wall, it had sh*t range so Kieran would have to get in close. He could barely think over the cheering crowd, and the guy in the Power Armor, Colter, taunting him.

"Let's do this!" Colter shouted, and the door swung open.

*** ***

The fight was short, in only a minute or two Kieran had Colter on the ground, blue sparks flying out of his armor.

"Holy sh*t man, he just knocked Colter down. What the hell is happening?!" The announcer yelled.

"Well, you gonna finish it?" Colter asked, his head covered by his helmet looking up at Kieran.

"With pleasure." Kieran kicked Colter's helmet off and fired a round into Colter's bald head. The crowd was silent.

"What the hell happens now?" The announcer asked.

"We all saw it," Gage said over the speakers. "We got ourselves a new overboss."

"Are you sure about this Gage?" The announcer questioned.

"He was skilled enough to survive the Gauntlet, and smart enough to take my advice. Now, give our new boss some applause!" The crowd reluctantly broke out into clapping, and a few cheers. Kieran walked to the booth where Gage was.

"You're one ruthless son of a b*tch, but hey it worked didn't it?" Gage said, smirking.

"Yeah, it was a good plan." Kieran nodded. "But what's this about me being the new Overboss?"

"I know it's a lot to hear all at once, listen come to Colter's old digs, the big mountain at the end of the main road. I'll explain more there, I got a good feeling about you."

New Canaan Crusade II, pt. 1
His tribal soldiers rested and their numbers bolstered by the arrival of the Utes, it was time for Graham to resume the offensive. He would retake the Great Salt Lake from the 80s - and wipe them out in the process. Destroying the 80s would eliminate the final threat to the rebuilding of New Canaan... and maybe help put the ghosts of Ogden, ever in Graham's mind, to rest.

It was not something he spoke of much, but he carried a lot of guilt for what happened that day, when the White Legs sacked New Canaan. First of all, New Canaan had not been a target of Caesar - not until the Burned Man crawled through the gate, barely alive. New Canaan had accepted him back immediately - the prodigal son returning home - but in doing so, they had painted a huge target on their backs. To shelter an enemy of Caesar was to make oneself an enemy of Caesar - and so the White Legs came, led on by one of Caesar's most capable frumentarii, to wipe out the Burned Man and any else who would stand against them.

Second, though, was that even with that, if Graham had actually been there for the White Leg attack, things might have been different. When the White Legs sacked New Canaan, Joshua and many of the men that could have defended it were elsewhere, lured out of the city by one of the Frumentarius' stratagems. They came back to a city in flames, the bodies of their families butchered in the streets. Even Revelation John, the Super Mutant convert, was found dead, surrounded by numerous dead White Legs, in front of the bodies of a family he'd been trying to protect. There was little for the surviving New Canaanites to do but fight a desperate rearguard action in order to allow what few survivors there were to flee to the safety of the Colorado. Graham had tried, in the past, to console himself with the fact that had he not returned when he did, even the 300 souls that made it out might not have survived; but then again, how many more might still be alive if he had been there from the start?

Now was a chance to set things right. The fields had been burnt, but they could be replanted; only the pests that were the 80s posed a threat to the new growth. They would be eliminated, and the fields would be allowed the chance to grow, in hopes that they might yet provide a bountiful harvest.

Daniel, of course, had been very disapproving of Joshua's plan. He'd visited Joshua's camp in Provo while he was regrouping, expressing his displeasure at Joshua having exceeded his mandate. They had an argument, in fact, a fairly noisy one, over the matter. Daniel's main point was that slaughtering the 80s would not cover the guilt in his soul - only the blood of Christ could do that. Joshua, in turn, pointed out that Daniel was being something of a hypocrite - had he not tried to do the same thing in attempting to evacuate the Sorrows from Zion? Just as Joshua had brought the Legion to New Canaan, so Daniel had brought the White Legs to Zion. To condemn him now for the blood on his hands was nothing short of rich considering the blood on Daniel's own hands.

They'd separated in a huff. Thankfully, their bad blood lasted only until the sun rose, when Daniel came to Joshua's tent to apologize. Joshua, too, apologized, and promised that once the 80s were gone, he would submit himself to discipline by the Church, and Daniel for his part, promised to remember the lesson that he'd learned in Zion - that occasionally, for there to be peace, sometimes there must be war, and even God himself had once ordered the destruction of peoples for the safety (physical and spiritual) of His people. They parted with their relationship repaired, and Joshua returned to his task at hand with renewed vigor.

His forces moved up to the edge of the lake, through the Salt Lake City ruins. Scouts reported that the ruins of Ogden were abandoned - since Salt-Upon-Wounds had salted the area, no one, not even the 80s, had moved back into the area, which made Joshua a little sad. The same scouts reported that the main encampment of the 80s were to the west, around Timpie Springs - one of the few sources of freshwater in the area. According to what they had observed, it seemed that the vast majority of the 80's warbands were there, having some sort of powwow - maybe electing a new warchief to organize them and deal with the New Canaanite threat.

Graham sent the Dead Horses to climb the mountain via the Davenport Canyon pass and come behind the 80s encampment from the west. The Sorrows went north at Burmeister, up around Stansbury Island, through the mostly-dry Stansbury Bay and down again in order to hit the camp from the north. Graham and the Utes would attack frontally from the east. With any luck, they'd trap the 80s in an encirclement and be able to utterly destroy them.

It took almost two days for the forces to get into position. It was dusk on the second day when the Dead Horses and the Sorrows sent the flares soaring into the desert sky, briefly illuminating it like day and informing Graham that they were in position to attack. In response, Joshua lit his own flare, signaling the attack - and he and the Utes moved in to attack the 80s, running up state route 138 from Grantsville. Boone had been busy the last two days sniping at their scouts, so the 80s had no idea the attack was imminent until it happened - the Utes fell upon the camp, which was not yet quite asleep but preparing for it, with a vengeance.

The 80s fought back with a vengeance, submachine gun vs tomahawk, supplemented by the machine guns atop their technicals, but the attack was soon joined by the Dead Horses from the West and the Sorrows from the north - the both of them a little bit better armed than the Utes, and trained in small team tactics by Graham. Their sudden appearance threw the 80s into chaos and confusion, confusion that was quickly exploited to slaughter as many of them as possible. An explosion as someone hit one of the fuel barrels containing the ethanol the 80s used to fuel their trucks added to the confusion, causing significant casualties among those nearby.

Seeing the battle was clearly not going in their favor, a small group of about 500 80s, including recently-elected warchief Daddy Roughneck, got into their vehicles and made a breakthrough attempt to the west, intending to head for the Nevada sands and put as much distance between them and the New Canaanites as possible. There wasn't much the Dead Horses could do to stop them, though some of them attempted to shoot the tires or the drivers as they drove by. Boone managed to put a bullet between Daddy Roughneck's ribs, wounding - but not quite killing - him. All in all, most of the breakout group got through; those that stayed behind were slaughtered mercilessly by the Utes, who had not the New Canaanites' proclivity for mercy to the defeated (they let a lot of the women and children in the camp live, but only so they could be brought back to the Res and raised as Utes).

Joshua Graham wanted to chase after the remaining 80s, but knew his tribal forces would never be able to deal with the desert between the Great Salt Lake and wherever the 80s had run to. He did sent scouts out as far as Wendover, checking the airport/former military base in case they'd holed up there, but the scouts turned up empty-handed. Scouts also reported that they'd abandoned the areas north of the Great Salt Lake - the towns of Rosette, Snowville, etc. were completely abandoned, no 80s... and no civilians, either, the 80s apparently having slaughtered them all some time ago for unspecified reasons.

So Joshua consolidated his gains and licked his wounds. Even if he couldn't completely destroy them, they'd been dealt a mortal blow, and would in turn be destroyed themselves by someone else. New Canaan was free... and his ghosts were, just very slightly, appeased.

Nuka-realm

New Canaan Crusade II, pt. 2
As it turned out, however, the 80s weren't about to escape so easily. When the wounded Daddy Roughneck reached the town of Wells, Nevada - the 80s traditional headquarters, still home to a small warband of them - he found that the town was already occupied by New Vegas' mercenaries. Mercenaries who promptly captured him upon arrival, swarming his trucks and physically pulling the drivers and riders from the vehicles like it was some sort of Grand Theft Auto. All of the little warband received the wasteland-wide punishment for raiders - summary execution, with Daddy Roughneck hung on the walls of the settlement as a warning to other raiders who might be tempted to fill the void left by the 80s.

Apparently, after parting ways near Salina, the New Vegas forces had opted to march west and secure the rest of Highway 50. They'd secured the town of Ely (which, calling it a town is perhaps a bit generous, given it had but two families as inhabitants who ran a ranch and an inn, respectively), and gone north to try and secure the rest of US-93. They'd fallen on Wells with a vengeance, nearly totally destroying the fortified truck stop that had long served as the 80s' home base and wiping out the band still living there. There they waited to ambush any other 80s who might be returning to base, leading to them trapping and executing the remainder of the 80s that had managed to flee their battle with Joshua Graham. It was a brilliant, if unintentional, example of teamwork between the two erstwhile allies.

So fell the 80s. While pockets of them continued to exist here and there, hidden in the wasteland, as a tribe they'd been more or less completely destroyed, and even these remnants would eventually die out or be wiped out by local authorities. Another one of the Southwest's great raider gangs, gone the way of the dodo. They joined the ranks of the Jackals and the Vipers, and of the White Legs who they themselves had been responsible for wiping out. The wasteland was changing, becoming more civilized, and the 80s were another victim of this drive, this drive for order, a drive that had now consigned them to history.

Of course, this left New Vegas with something of a problem. The area around Interstate 80 in northeast Nevada was and had been mostly uninhabited aside from the 80s, their presence generally serving as a deterrent to the establishment of towns or other settlements in their turf. Even with the 80s gone, it wasn't exactly likely that this would change in any major way - the area was arid, watered only by seasonal rains (and the occasional Divide storm) that produced temporary creeks that disappeared almost as quickly as they appeared. There wasn't even enough water for bighorner ranching. However, leaving the area would likely only cause a new raider gang (or a resurgent 80s) to appear in the vacuum, which meant that the area would need to be militarily occupied in order to prevent that from happening again.

Veronica didn't like it, but the only real solution would be to temporarily occupy it with the mercenaries while radio towers were built that could allow Securitrons to operate properly in the area. A base would be built out of Wells, and the mercenaries detailed to patrol the roads, while work crews were wrangled up to construct or repair the towers. She would have to see about maybe finding a solution for long-term settlement in the area - maybe she could build a desalination plant along the banks of the Great Salt Lake, or if all else failed, pipe water all the way from the dam up there.

Meanwhile, there was rejoicing in New Canaan. Shortly after the defeat of the 80s, the remaining New Canaanites - now increased in number some by the birth of newborns - made a joyous procession down Interstate 70, then up the Long 15. It was a journey of celebration, accompanied by music and psalms of joy as the exiles returned home, reminiscent of the Israelites returning to Jerusalem under the Persians. They walked all the way up through the valley, past its curious inhabitants, through Provo and the burnt-out shell of Salt Lake City, up to the foundations of the walls of Ogden (which the White Legs had torn down after setting fire to the town).

There, standing where the gate had been, stood Joshua Graham. Daniel, walking at the head of the procession, stepped forward. "Are your sins absolved, Joshua?" he asked.

"Only God can absolve sins," Joshua replied. "But at least the ghosts are silent." He turned and threw out a hand at the scorched remains of his city. "Welcome home, ye sons of God."

There was much for the New Canaanites to do, of course - the concrete walls had to be rebuilt, the soil reclaimed from the salting that Salt-Upon-Wounds had inflicted on it - but at least today there was rejoicing to be had, for the exiles had returned.
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The remainder of the Great Salt Lake, plus Wells and Ely in Nevada, reclaimed by the Deseret Pact (5 tiles)
Population added: 1,000
Equipment recovered:
- 100 M60 machine guns
- 400 Grease Guns
- 10 technicals, 20 motorcycles
- 1 VB-01 Vertibird from the Wendover Airport
Tech docs received: 79

Nuka-realm

Operation Pocketwatch, Phase II, Part III - END

"Three times Bearslayer seized him fast,
And seemed the heavy Knight to beat.
Three times he staggered at the last;
The Knight broke free with kicking feet.
His foe at last Bearslayer flung
Into the river's depths to drown,
But round with heavy armour hung,
The Knight dragged Bearslayer down.
The waters made a cracking sound,
The waves surged high and took the pair,
And, in their fight together bound,
Down in the depths they vanished there!"

- From the Lacplesis/Bear-Slayer.

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Strong winds blew through Liepaja. The Prussian fortifications, though extensive, had taken a great battering. They looked to be in good company with the cratered Soviet bunkers in the north of town. The last of their great wooden ships lay at the mouth of the harbour, scuttled to prevent a landing. Federation troops waited on all sides. From the west, the Devastation and two gunboats maintained the blockade, though they currently were busy making emergency steam away from a pair of waterspouts. Eventually, the spouts dissipated, and the ships resumed an irregular bombardment. From the east, trenches were dug into the smooth hillsides, and firmly emplaced field guns blasted away. Amidst the wreckage of fortresses in the north was a rail line, at the head of which sat the armoured train Onu Tom, adding its artillery car to the weight of fire. In this weather, the guns were hardly accurate, but given time, a lot of damage was being done. A lot of it collateral in nature. But the vast majority of the Selenian infantry were waiting in the south, amidst the ample cover of the rubble of neighborhoods. Throughout the city's wind-sheltered pockets, ash roses lay scattered everywhere. Then, the wind died. This time, no hordes of mutant beasts attacked - over the months, the ones willing to chance a firefight for a meal had been gradually picked off. Instead, a stocky Colonel rose his sword, and the 1st Brigade rose from cover, with a shout.

"For the Federation!"

A steady ripple of musket and cannon fire met them. Many in the first wave fell. Yet while the Prussian network of ravelins had been designed to deny cover to an attacker, numerous shellholes provided plenty of breaches for assault engineers to widen, and to lead the charge through. Selenian machine guns swept the walls methodically, dropping some foes and suppressing others. The three Renault FT tanks crashed through breaches in the wall, stirring terror and confusion, while their gunners madly fed canister shot into their little pop gun cannons. The steel carts drew all the attention, soaking up musket fire, swivel guns, and even desperately hurled chunks of rock and masonry. However, other Prussians clung to cover and debris, bringing up hot oil, barrels of powder, or anything they could find, and preparing to swarm the tanks. If nothing else, they could at least gather enough people to knock the damned things over. Of course, they wouldn't get the chance. Assault engineers and infantry poured through. The musketeers tried to rapidly close with their bayonets, but the wall of steel was rapidly reduced by shotgun and kalashnikov fire. Then, they were also hit to the east.

Small units of Federation infantry took rafts across the city lake. They were still separated from the city by a large, marsh of tall grasses, but it too made the perfect cover. Soon they charging among confused, retreating Prussians, taking the high ground of Soviet apartment balconies, or spiking guns. Discipline had held while they still seemed to have a chance. But now, with their Governor having snuck across the lines to Lithuania, the battle turned into a rout. A rout with nowhere to go. They crowded among the remaining strongpoints - the strong cover of a cemetery's walls, the partly sunk steel frame of a tall, cylindrical opera house, and the clock tower of an organ blaring church. Another group of Prussians, steadily retreating, managed to lure their pursuers into the pond of the Bear Swan, which had made a protective shell around its nest with an impressive amount of masonry.

The Bear Swan simply rose up, soaked up all fire, demolished anyone standing remotely near it, and sank back into the water. After an indignant Selenian Lieutenant lost both his life, and his entire platoon trying to storm the bird's lair, orders came through to just steer clear of the damned thing. Once the fighting died down, the Cleansers had their own plan to peacefully lure it away. Meanwhile, after repeated bloody charges, the last Prussian forces had been driven out of the cemetery. The opera house's frame, overlooking much of the city, had been trickier, and the Prussians within it created a reload-relay system, allowing them the firepower to pepper anybody nearby. Instead, the Selenians drew back, and opted to bombard the point with mortars, field guns, tanks, and naval fire. What was left the opera rapidly fell apart under the sustained fire, with those within it killed instantly, or buried in the rubble.

Only the holy trinity cathedral remained, and its tall clock tower. The remaining foes flocked to it, forming ranks of those who fought on to hold the perimeter, and those who knelt and prayed for deliverance. All the while, the great organ played on. In a way, perhaps their deliverance was granted. Shoving off an aide who protested his safety, Brigadier Magi strolled calmly towards the last remaining Prussians, twirling his moustache with a bored look. As almost an afterthought, he brought up an interpreter in the form of a prisoner, and offered a very sweet deal. The one where if they surrendered, they'd get to live. There was a fair deal of hesitation. Yet with no ranking officers, excepting a frightened noble who had finally stopped playing the damned organ, the remaining enemy line infantry felt wholly abandoned. They took the deal.

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Exploration:
-- Western Courland Tile Annexed.
-- The area has been reclaimed according to the cleanser perk, as a fertile meadow (farm buff).
-- 4 tech docs gained.
-- 1 small factory obtained (50% damage).
-- 2,500 population obtained.
-- 150 combat casualties.

Finished Construction:
-- x2 Nisse-class destroyer-leaders launched. Currently in reserve (drawing upkeep, awaiting weapons).
-- pocket battleship Sumpurnis launched. Currently in reserve.

New Construction:
-- x2 more Nisse-class destroyers laid down.
-- Cruiser Sigurd (see: tre kronor-class) laid down.

Financial Matters:
-- 91,800 caps / 22,950 Marks have been generated from the sale of over 3,500 assorted small arms, as well as the scrapping of 10 obsolete electric trains. I may have forgotten how expensive ship upkeep gets.

The Moonsund Lands wrote:

The four follow along happily, attentively listening to the tour. Or at least, pretending to. The young Estonian butler is practically spellbound by the details of the exotic city, and his awe for someone who could serve as many as 25 years, and forgets to translate. Artur does his best with the more important details. In particular, the news of the king being a bit of a modernist lifts their spirits greatly - they've clearly worried a fair bit about this meeting, based purely on preconceived notions, and they're glad to dispel them.

Upon seeing the Flemish attendant, Misha smiles to himself, wondering whether in terms of roles, he's met his peer. Putting that thought aside, he turns to his extensive knowledge of courtly protocol (gained from two novels he skimmed). He puts his hand on his heart, then turns it in a sweeping motion to the other three.

Misha Yusupov: "Good day, sir! That's correct, we represent the Baltic Federation, a maritime trading nation from the Moonsund Islands, past the Danish belts. May I present myself - the head servant to the Federation's Supreme Chancellor, as well Sir Lightstone - Knight of the Order of the Carnation, and lastly, Misters Thorne and Pitka, commanding officers in the Federation's armed forces. We have heard tell of this North Sea Kingdom, neighbouring our bases in the Baltic. Thus we been charged by our government with learning of, and seeking to establish friendly relations with the Kingdom. As well as trade, if permission is obtained."

Meeting with King Albert VII

The old man with the Flemish accent smiled politely, "Well, welcome to our land, gentlemen. Guard, go through the door to the right of where we met, you will normally see a man there dressed like me, please inform him of the impending audience, don't leave out any details. As for you, follow me, please. I'm going to introduce you to the palace for an audience.". He deliberately wasted a little time on the way, taking a slightly longer passage to give the king time to obtain information.

The man finally led them past a small line of people of different status, "Let us pass, please, emissaries !", he said in French, then in Flemish.

People looked at the strangers with curiosity. It bothered them a little to be passed, but the rarity of the event didn't bother them any more than that. After asking if somebody was already inside and receiving a negative reply, the man opened the large doors, shouting, "The emissaries of the Baltic Federation from the Moonsund islands !". He stood aside to let them through.

The room was full of people, Flemish courtiers on one side looking with disdain at these foreigners who had just been announced in French, meaning these foreigners spoke French, and were remembering about the last French-speaking foreign emissary. They were beginning to fear that French had become the international language of the wastelands. On the other side of the room, French and German speakers were watching the foreigners, intrigued by these emissaries who had come to break the monotony of the royal judgement.

The king was at the back of the room, sitting in an old ornate chair and dressed in a black uniform with a red ribbon running from his shoulder to his waist, with gold-coloured decorations and epaulettes. He was surrounded by three men standing next to him, and a young blond lady in an orange and white intricated dress sitting in a chair identical to the King's.

The four men could move at their own pace, but once they were close enough to the king, the captain of the guard signalled them to stop, with his hand first then said, "You are in the presence of the king, you may speak.»

The Moonsund Lands wrote:

Shaking Hands with the Cheese Mafia III

The delegates follow, marveling both at the Palace of Nations, and the variety on display for them. The flag of the New California Republic interests them particularly, as fellow bears-on-flags enthusiasts, and until the text is recognized as english, they briefly wonder if they might be a Russian remnant.

Anna Viires: "Comrade President, it's extremely gracious, and extremely useful, to place so much at our disposal. No doubt there's much to be discussed. Uh, gentlemen, what do you think we ought to begin with"

Toomas Rei: "Food!"

Albrecht Linhardt: "Food. I've wished to try spaetzle for a very long time."

Anna Viires: "Sigh... Oh, those two."

Lisette Viires: "Food! Dear, I do wonder if they've got any more of that 'chocolate' stuff. And you know, I had no idea Mozart was Swiss."

Albrecht Linhardt: "I thought he was a cat."

Toomas Rei: "Wait, is this pastry labelled.. Cholera? It isn't a translation error, is it? I... think I'm morbidly curious enough to give it a try."

Anna Viires: "Very well. I ought to see if perhaps our globetrotting friends here have found anything with caffeine in it."

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While the others ate, the secretary and the student politely decline, with their stomachs still settling from the journey. Instead, they seek out the head dean.

Ingrid Pai: "How do you do, sir. You see, the Rector of Tartu University made me an honourary ambassador for the school just before I went on this little trip. He wanted me to speak about the possibility of arranging a foreign exchange program."

Juris Rothkowitz: "Yes, I... think we both know why Mr. Kasovsky would have been reluctant to travel himself. He no doubt worried his... condition might cause some alarm, and thus hurt negotiations."

Ingrid Pai: "Well.. he didn't tell me why, but it'd make sense. I'm not sure if any Swiss forces have encountered anything like it in the wasteland, but I'll, uh, explain as best as I can. He's a ghoul, a necrotic being, originally a human from the prewar Soviet Union. But unlike almost every ghoul the Home Guard's encountered, Professor Kasovsky has somehow kept his faculties, speech, memory, the works. That said, the medical department did say he seems to sometimes have trouble with new memories. I guess it's a bold claim... here, I brought a photographic plate of him, from the University's grand opening."

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With a number of pastries sampled, the two engineers go looking for the mentioned company executives, eager to see hear about their product line. Meanwhile, the Advocate seeks out the President again.

Anna Viires: "I believe the last time representatives of our nations spoke in person, we discussed the necessity of establishing embassies. We've since prepared some candidates, and are prepared to nominate a qualified fellow before the parliaments. Perhaps while we're here, we can sort out the logistics of the matter, as well as a space."

Head Dean Walter Estai takes the plate and examines the image of the ghoul on it, "Ah yes, we are familiar with the concept of Ghouls. While there are very few within our walls here, there are a handful of non-feral ghouls who do call the Plateau home. The majority of our citizens have a negative view on ghouls due to a large attach by a feral horde on the Plateau in the mid 2160's. While there is no hostility that our people have against them, its more that generally there are many people who lost relatives in that attack. Regardless, I do not have those sentiments and would love to meet Mr. Kasovsky should the opportunity arise."

"As for your foreign exchange program, we would welcome a mixing of cultures and ideas. However, we would just like to make sure students on either side of a general understanding of the language. Otherwise, we can begin immediately so long as the paperwork is filled out properly.

------

President Jurus smiles at the Advocate, "Well I can assure you we actually have that matter in hand. Here in the Palace of Nations we have multiple areas we plan on setting up as embassies. The site has active channels of communication still open, close proximity to our airfields, and a direct line to Bern for contact with our government. Unless you have any objections, you can have your pick of any of the former Baltic section of the Palace."

Griezelland wrote:

Meeting with King Albert VII

The old man with the Flemish accent smiled politely, "Well, welcome to our land, gentlemen. Guard, go through the door to the right of where we met, you will normally see a man there dressed like me, please inform him of the impending audience, don't leave out any details. As for you, follow me, please. I'm going to introduce you to the palace for an audience.". He deliberately wasted a little time on the way, taking a slightly longer passage to give the king time to obtain information.

The man finally led them past a small line of people of different status, "Let us pass, please, emissaries !", he said in French, then in Flemish.

People looked at the strangers with curiosity. It bothered them a little to be passed, but the rarity of the event didn't bother them any more than that. After asking if somebody was already inside and receiving a negative reply, the man opened the large doors, shouting, "The emissaries of the Baltic Federation from the Moonsund islands !". He stood aside to let them through.

The room was full of people, Flemish courtiers on one side looking with disdain at these foreigners who had just been announced in French, meaning these foreigners spoke French, and were remembering about the last French-speaking foreign emissary. They were beginning to fear that French had become the international language of the wastelands. On the other side of the room, French and German speakers were watching the foreigners, intrigued by these emissaries who had come to break the monotony of the royal judgement.

The king was at the back of the room, sitting in an old ornate chair and dressed in a black uniform with a red ribbon running from his shoulder to his waist, with gold-coloured decorations and epaulettes. He was surrounded by three men standing next to him, and a young blond lady in an orange and white intricated dress sitting in a chair identical to the King's.

The four men could move at their own pace, but once they were close enough to the king, the captain of the guard signalled them to stop, with his hand first then said, "You are in the presence of the king, you may speak.»

They took us to their leader

They followed the old man sheepishly, somewhat guilty from cutting the line. Despite the stares, they were grateful not to have to wait for hours. Upon entering the throne room, Misha began with a mentally rehearsed deep bow, and an elegant flourish. Afterwards, he mentally froze for a second, looking up at the royals in their finery, and feeling somewhat underqualified for his task. Artur and Arvo repeated simpler bows. The former adjusted his glasses, and seemed determined to look in every direction except that of the King - while the latter placed his hand on the Estonian butler's shoulder, encouraging him to continue. With about 0.3 frenchmen's worth between them, there was nothing Arvo could do but to depend on the little guy getting his nerve back. Lightstone trailed behind them, with the same disinterested, stern expression as any disciplined guard. At Artur's prodding, the Carnation Knight relented, and offered a sharp two-finger salute. Finally, clutching the buttons of his coat, Misha took a deep breath, and addressed the King.

Misha Yusupov: "Thank you for seeing us, your Majesty. We have travelled far from our home country on behalf of our Chancellor. We first heard of the Lowlands when a vessel we were sailing on, the iron steamship Lennuk, encountered a merchant vessel hailing from here. It is the second nation we've heard tell of, beyond the omnipresent Swiss, so we felt it vital to pay a visit, and perhaps, seek an opportunity for trade. I... suppose we all know very little about one another. While the Federation has various bases throughout the Baltic Sea, we originally hail from the Commonwealths of Estonia and Latvia. Perhaps you have scholars with records of these lands - in ancient times, they were vassals of an empire known as the 'Union of Soviet Socialist Republics'. Today, the two are free nations united in a parliamentary state, with deep forests, swamps, many small islands, and skilled seafarers. And compared to these lands, a dramatically different language. Arvo?"

Arvo Thorne: "Ma ei räägi eesti keelt!"

Misha Yusupov: "Thank you."

Reuniting East and West
While many eyes are set on the Straights of Gibraltar and the new encounters in the region with a new power, the Swiss Development Fund and the Swiss Military began a massive endeavor in the New World. After weeks of negotiations, discussions, and debates both within the Swiss Federal Assembly and between Swiss and Texan representatives, the Confederation deployed Air Squadron 3 to the Panama Canal to secure the site for repairs. The massive structure once served as the gateway between the East and West coasts of the United States, but today it could bring wealth and stability in the post war New World. However, the question was how long would the site take to repair and what repairs overall needed to be done. Thanks to the efforts of the Swiss Air Fleet, the sum total of repairs would cover all ten locks at a cost of 375,000 Swiss Francs with an additional Pacific and Atlantic Port, Airbase, Defensive Infrastructure, and Logistic Infrastructure added up to a total of an additional 350,000 Swiss Francs. With the initial survey completed and Texas deploying a first wave of boots on the Ground, the Swiss Special Forces deployed its 2nd Battalion to clear the area and claim it for repairs. The Battalion was dropped off just outside of Panama City by the locks complex and began clearing operations with air support. The combat was overall brief thanks to the fire support from the air cruiser SCZ Zurich as well as the spotting by the two smaller airships in the squadron. Within a few hours, the site had been fully cleared of hostiles, primarily consisting of feral ghouls, and a third of the 2nd Battalion was shipped to the norther side of the Canal to join the Texan forces in the city of Colon which had already been cleared. With both sides of the Canal now secured, the three smaller airships of the squadron began conducting fire support missions as the soldiers began to clear out some of the surrounding cities, particularly the larger Panama City as it would serve as the Pacific hub of trade. Meanwhile, the Zurich began to head back toward Bermuda to meet up with the Home Fleet’s supply division which would now be diverted to send the initial wave of supplies to Panama now that Gibraltar was unable to be claimed. The fleet would be in charge of setting up initial operations before being relived by the Merchant Marine which was set to launch in a few weeks.

*Panama Canal Claimed

Repairs/Construction
- 10x Canal Locks [50%] (375,000 Caps, 10 Workers, 8 Days)
- 1x Harbor - Atlantic [50%](56,250 Caps, 1 Pop, 8 Days)
- 1x Port - Pacific (100,000 Caps, 1 Pop, 14 Days)
- 2x Concrete Fortress [50%] (75,000 Caps, 2 Pop, 8 Days)
- 1x Large Airbase [50%] (37,500 Caps, 1 Pop, 8 Days)
- 1x Roads (1 Pop, 1 Day)
- 1x Railroad (1,000 Caps, 1 Pop, 1 Day)
- 1x Radio (4,000 Caps, 1 Pop, 1 Day)*

One of the more profound effects that some citisense of the NCR didn't realize was the effect that the 2nd Battle for Hoover dam had was the show that the sky was no longer the vast empty that many believed. The bomber from the Boomers left a mark on some tactician after they read the report which caused a large plan to have finally come to fruition. The last time the NCR had a serious air concern was the Brotherhood expedition that headed east in airship, along with the current european guests in the Boneyard. After the fact that a heavier than air aircraft was finally in the air left many to now be chasing the army to create an air service. Now a NCRAS is finally being constructed. Along with the creation of a full academy and a few air strips the Rangers were also given attention with the expansion of their armory. Having been given a blank check for small arms and have placed a vast order of varying calibers to fill the gap left by shortages. Rifles, Pistols, knives, everything was tossed in for the short time they were given for production to be completed and the possible expansion if the rangers could find the new recruits.

Construction:
1x Pilot Academy- 300x TD, 100,000x Caps
2x Airbase(NAS Point Mugu, Beagle AFB)-40,000
3x Airstrtip(Vandenberg Air Force Base, Castle AFB, Naval Air station North Island)

Production:
2x Lines Ranger Sequoia
2x Lines Brush Gun
2x Lines of Trail Carbine
2x Lines of Sniper Rifle
2x Lines of Combat Knife
2x Lines of CSAA

Reuniting East and West II – Laying the Groundwork
Thanks to the initial materials and workers transported by the Air Fleet’s logistics arm, steady progress had been made on the repairs to the canal’s existing infrastructure. The 2nd Battalion had been able to clear out both the upper and lower locks and establish a FOB at both locations, setting up both a Pacific and Atlantic headquarters independently to allow for operations on both shorelines. The ruins of Fort Kobbe and Howard Air Force Base would serve as the Pacific Side’s headquarters while Fort Davis would be the headquarters for the Atlantic. Both sites were in rough shape and had slowly been eroded by the growing jungle, however, once heavy equipment arrived from Genoa repairs to both sites would likely be quick. For the time being, both sites would simply be manned by the 2nd Battalion and attempts would be made to repair them. However, the same would not be said for some of the smaller pieces of infrastructure which could be repaired. The first site to come back online was the radio tower at Fort Davis which had been prioritized to free up the airships of 3rd Squadron. With the site now active, the repair crews began clearing the roads and railroads around the canal locks as they were needed for both logistics purposes and to move ships through the locks once they were prepared. While these tasks were overall small, they would be critical for ensuring the proper flow of supplies once the Merchant Marine arrived.

However, until then the radio tower began broadcasting that the Panama Canal site was under repair and would see use in the near future. While some thought this was premature, the SDF pointed out that unless people were made aware of the existence of the canal, it was unlikely that the site could be used.

*Roads, Railroads, and Radio tower completed in Panama – Communication with the Canal and outside world now possible*

The Moonsund Lands wrote:

They took us to their leader

They followed the old man sheepishly, somewhat guilty from cutting the line. Despite the stares, they were grateful not to have to wait for hours. Upon entering the throne room, Misha began with a mentally rehearsed deep bow, and an elegant flourish. Afterwards, he mentally froze for a second, looking up at the royals in their finery, and feeling somewhat underqualified for his task. Artur and Arvo repeated simpler bows. The former adjusted his glasses, and seemed determined to look in every direction except that of the King - while the latter placed his hand on the Estonian butler's shoulder, encouraging him to continue. With about 0.3 frenchmen's worth between them, there was nothing Arvo could do but to depend on the little guy getting his nerve back. Lightstone trailed behind them, with the same disinterested, stern expression as any disciplined guard. At Artur's prodding, the Carnation Knight relented, and offered a sharp two-finger salute. Finally, clutching the buttons of his coat, Misha took a deep breath, and addressed the King.

Misha Yusupov: "Thank you for seeing us, your Majesty. We have travelled far from our home country on behalf of our Chancellor. We first heard of the Lowlands when a vessel we were sailing on, the iron steamship Lennuk, encountered a merchant vessel hailing from here. It is the second nation we've heard tell of, beyond the omnipresent Swiss, so we felt it vital to pay a visit, and perhaps, seek an opportunity for trade. I... suppose we all know very little about one another. While the Federation has various bases throughout the Baltic Sea, we originally hail from the Commonwealths of Estonia and Latvia. Perhaps you have scholars with records of these lands - in ancient times, they were vassals of an empire known as the 'Union of Soviet Socialist Republics'. Today, the two are free nations united in a parliamentary state, with deep forests, swamps, many small islands, and skilled seafarers. And compared to these lands, a dramatically different language. Arvo?"

Arvo Thorne: "Ma ei räägi eesti keelt!"

Misha Yusupov: "Thank you."

Meeting with King Albert VII

King Albert looked at them with sympathy, just as he looked at anyone who was stressed about meeting him. The court laughed a little when the foreigners bowed, as this was not a cultural thing for the local population, but they quickly stopped when Misha spoke. They seemed to listen to the foreigners as well.

Albert studied the strangers with his eyes and listened attentively to Misha. He understood nothing of what Arvo was saying, but when Misha finished speaking, an old man beside the king whispered in his ear before leaving through a door on the left behind the throne. The king then spoke.

"First of all, welcome to our lands. However, we are sad to learn that the Swiss do not communicate with us, and neither with you, it would seem. You say you're interested in trade? That's fine, we encourage trade. If you'd like, we'll put you in touch with companies and guilds to work out the details, but for our part, as long as our trading ships are accepted and treated correctly, we'll be sure to reciprocate. We may not speak the same languages, but that doesn't surprise us. Our Kingdom currently reigns over five languages. Five peoples who, despite their differences, are united under our crown. Differences that don't harm us, only enrich us. Our merchants will surely take advantage of trade to learn your language as they have always done and we would also be open to a cultural exchange and the opening of a place for exchange and cooperation between our people."

The man who had left returned with a large map and two young men in black suits with ties in the colours of royalty, black with a yellow lion, were carrying it. The King stopped talking as the two men unfolded the map in front of the strangers, it was a cloth map of the old Commonwealth, the map had aged somewhat, giving it a yellowed tint.

"Here is the map, your Majesty, their lands should be around here", said the old man, dressed in a white and yellow suit and a bishop's hat, pointing to Estonia with a long black stick.

"We see," said the king, leaning forward, slightly pensive.

"They're not in lands I aspire to, but I'd better be careful, I wouldn't want a second Switzerland," thought the king, whose information spoke of flying vehicles passing over the islands and the North Sea while making no contact with the kingdom. He feared the Swiss.

After this little interruption, he rested back in his chair and smiled to show some sympathy at the foreigners. "You may continue.", he said as he pointed with his fingers stretched together from his open hand at the strangers to let them speak.

Anguish of the Pride

Nothing prepares you for the Wasteland. Not the violence, cruelty, and anguish. . .anguish for the people you love, now that. . .that is the worst part of it all, because nothing in the Wasteland can fill the hole they leave behind. . .

The barren streets were stained with blood. Blood from the Super Mutants, and blood from Knight Pek's fellow brethren. The battle so far had been rough, rooting out the Super Mutants that had taken up residence in the Bethesda ruins proved to be significantly more difficult that what was initially expected.

It's a standard op, Elder Sarah Lyons had told them, a band of around 15 Super Mutants held up in some ruins. As with all standards ops in these days, the Elder Lyons led the mission herself, truly the Pride of the Brotherhood. More respected among her brethren than her father was, she was the ideal of the Brotherhood, at least to Pek. Being promoted to the Lyons' Pride (A very reluctant decision from Sarah) let him see first hand that Sarah Lyons was the future of the Brotherhood, a natural born fighter and leader resected by all. She had done hundreds of missions, many much more dangerous than this, but this one was different.

The Lyons' Pride, assisted by some nearby squads, made their numbers more than triple that of the Super Mutants. They quickly breached the limits of the ruins and found the small gathering of Super Mutants at the center of the ruined town, but . . .something was wrong. The Mutants were just standing there, weapons in hand, smiles across their faces. Like they were expecting them. Elder Lyons stopped in her tracks, and looked to a nearby building. Scatter! It's a trap! Pek didn't even manage to turn his head before bullets rained down on the squad, Vin, a recent recruit from one of the assisting squads got a bullet through the head right in front of Pek. As the Brotherhood members scattered for cover, Pek barely managed to get behind a car before a bullet grazed his face.

Explosions rang out, and he desperately looked all around. . .the Brotherhood soldiers had taken up some defensive positions. . .the ones that were left. The streets were littered with several dead Initiates, all fresh recruits who had gotten into something they were not remotely prepared for. Pek saw the lifeless faces of one of them. . .a teen it looked like, not much older than himself. His mind was overwhelmed, Pek had seen action several times, but nothing like this. This was a bloodbath. Looking back the way they came, Pek was greeted with a horrifying sight. Nearly a dozen Super Mutants charging at full force towards them, letting out a blood curling cry.

"Behind us!" Pek managed to yell out as he grabbed his laser rifle and began firing at the charging beasts. Sh*t they move fast Pek thought to himself. For such towering abominations, the Super Mutants could move fast. He managed to take out two and soon other Brotherhood Knights joined him in taking down the charging Mutants. "Come on!" He turned to see Elder Lyons standing, firing at the charging Mutants, rallying the Brotherhood along with her. A true Elder, Pek thought to himself. "Send these green bastards back to hell!" A cheer rang out from the Brotherhood as they quickly mopped up the charging Mutants.

It seemed the tides had turned, until Pek heard a sound. . .a whistling noise ripping through the air, it was only a sound he had heard one other time. . ."Watch out!" Elder Lyons called and Pek managed to barely get down before a massive explosion completely shattered his eardrums and knocked him several feet away. His ears were ringing and he felt his face bleeding. He managed to get a bearing to see a dissipating small mushroom cloud near where he was just standing. . .a mini-nuke. Several of his brethren had fallen, and he scoured the field for the Elder, but couldn't find her. . ."Protect the Elder!" He heard a Knight called out, he turned to see Sarah Lyons, laying motionless on the ground.

No, no, no! He rushed over to her side, ready to protect his Elder with his last breath. He quickly joined another Knight in checking on Sarah but. . .Pek quickly looked away gagging and with tears in his eyes, desperately trying to purge his sight of Sarah Lyon's face, completely blown apart. He collapsed to his knees, and stayed by his Elder's side through the battle as it raged on, still by her side when two Vertibirds with reinforcements arrived and cleared out the remaining Super Mutants. The day ended in victory, but it may as well have been a defeat. On this day, the Brotherhood lost its Pride. The Brotherhood will never recover Pek had thought to himself.

That day was truly my last day in the Brotherhood, I still served for many years, but I could never find myself to care about the fools that replaced her. Or that bastard Maxson! No one will hold a torch to what Sarah Lyons did, or meant to us, us remaining few. . .

Swords into Plows, Plows into Better Swords

The Raveners were no strangers to the practice of agriculture despite the usual connotations of being a Raider tribe, which were in themselves utterly nonsensical as even the most basic understanding of the chem trade meant that Raiders above the multitudes of bullet fodder understood that an agricultural base was necessary for ensuring a steady supply of base materials for chems. It was these Raiders who ensured the rest of their dirty and idiotic kindred could fill their veins with all manner of dubious concoctions and while it would be understandable to misunderstand why the Raveners were getting more interested in agriculture, it would still be a mistake. Though it required the sale of 150 of their precious sniper rifles to drum up the necessary caps for building a proper farming complex, they had no intentions of doing so in the future nor did they have any plans of working themselves on the farm as a new idea had begun percolating throughout their ranks. In the past, they had raided solely to acquire food and other resources from rival tribes and settlements without indulging in the usual Raider pastime of taking prisoners to enslave; the usual rounds of entertainment were indulged in, but none of them thought to keep outsiders for long unless they were young enough to learn their ways. With the farm under construction, it was planned for slaves to be gathered in order to begin growing crops that they could either use themselves for food and chems or sell to caravans who had not yet come into their gunsights.

Remembrance Day

Arthur Maxson shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he impatiently waited for Bannon to finish his dreadfully boring speech. Maxson glanced at the large crowd that had gathered, many Brotherhood soldiers, and many civilians. Some familiar faces, many unfamiliar faces. The Capital Wasteland had grown in the many years, and for the better. As Bannon neared the end of his scripted speech, he went off on another tangent on the importance of true leadership. . .Christ just let this end already, Maxson thought to himself before having an eerie feeling on the back of his neck. He quickly turned behind him to see. . .nothing there.

Maxson was uncomfortable enough just being at the Remembrance Plaza. Formerly known as L'Enfant Plaza, the entire area had long been cleared out and completely redone, fresh new roads, new sidewalks, a beautiful park area for civilians, restored apartments for residents, and at the main plaza, several small black marble walls were erected, all engraved with names; names of all those that the Brotherhood had lost over the years in the Capital Wasteland and beyond. And at the center, where a small glass pyramid had once been, now stood a statue of three figures. One was that of a young squire and another was that of a scribe. In between them stood a towering Brotherhood soldier in Power Armor, with their helmet off to reveal the face of Sarah Lyons.

But no matter how restored it was, Maxson always felt on edge, like there was always someone watching him. Seeing the face of Sarah Lyons made it all the worse, he couldn't bear to look at the statue without Sarah's ghost haunting him. Maxson shook his thoughts off as Bannon finally finished his speech to a few lonesome claps. Finally, Maxson thought as he stood up and walked to the podium, and the attitude immediately changed in the crowd. Many perked up and seemed to move forward, gravitating towards him. Maxson swallowed any of the anxiety he had and began,

"Brothers, sisters, and all of those who made the decision to attend the ceremony today, let me first say, thank you. . .this plaza was once consumed by death and destruction, controlled by the monsters that have destroyed communities, families, and left a trail of suffering. . .and yet now we stand here, unafraid and safe, able to enjoy the luxuries of trees, flowers, able to enjoy vendors with delicious food, fresh, clean water, able to not just survive from day to day, but live and not just live but enjoy life and the luxuries that come with it. . .all of that, where we stand, our homes, our families, our very lives, all are thanks to sacrifice. . .the sacrifice of strangers, the sacrifice of friends, the sacrifice of family. . .around you, you see four walls with names engraved on them, thousands of names, names of people you may know, names of many people that you do not. . .every single name on these walls made the ultimate sacrifice so that every one of us standing here today to not just survive, not have to worry every single day about what we're going to eat and drink, not have to worry about tomorrow. . .they made the ultimate sacrifice that all of us here today may live. So when you go about the rest of your day, remember these names, remember the sacrifice they made for all of us, and never, never forget. . .one day you may have to make the same choice, and I know all of us here would gladly make the same choice so that our children and their children can remember our names and our sacrifice for a better world. . .thank you,"

The crowd that had gathered erupted in claps and cheers, all standing on their feet in ovation for Maxson's speech. Maxson was no stranger to a standing ovation, everywhere he went and everywhere he spoke, people cheered him on. He had the respect of his brethren, and most importantly, the people of the Capital Wasteland. Maxson briefly nodded his head to the crowd as he turned to leave the ceremony. . .but had he stayed longer and taken a good look at the crowd, he would have noticed not all were cheering. . .in fact some among the crowd weren't even smiling. . .a select few seemed to dislike the speech and the words of Maxson. . .among them was Pek, the former Brotherhood Knight, covered with a grown-out beard and a hooded jacket. He glared over the memorial walls, before turning to the statue, his glare turned to a frown as he left the plaza. . .

Revolution, pt. 3
When Veronica got back to Novac, she found not only Boone, but Arcade waiting for her. "Back so soon?" she quipped, throwing back her hood after closing the door behind her.

"That should be my line," Arcade replied.

"Did she have it?" Veronica addressed Boone. In response, Arcade held up a holotape labeled "House Data". "He helped me get it," Boone explained apologetically.

"Now, the question is, did you get it? This wonder-weapon that you should have brought up the first time?" Arcade quizzed.

"I didn't bring it up because I wasn't sure it actually existed," Veronica replied. She drew her scribe robes back and pulled the pulse weapon from her belt. "Had to wade through ghouls and irradiated water to get it," she added, handing it over to Arcade, who examined it closely.

"Reminds me of a weapon the Courier brought back from the Big Empty," he remarked, handing it back to her. "Sonic emitter, I think it was."

"I wouldn't be surprised if this was something those kooks came up with," Veronica remarked herself. "So we have our wonder weapon, and we have our data. Now all we need to do is barge onto the Strip and take House out."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Arcade said, throwing up his hands. "Emily never got a chance to sift through the data, so we still don't know where House is inside the Lucky 38."

Veronica sighed. "Open a window, close a door," she muttered. "I can get us a terminal, can you and ED-E go through the data?"

"I suppose since I was the one to get the data, that I can help," Arcade said. "In the meantime, you can explain to me your plan for what happens after you kill House." He raised his hand to stymie a quick response that died on Veronica's lips. "And I don't mean like immediately after. Yeah, yeah, put Yes Man in charge, at least the Strip will continue to be safe. But what happens after that? You set it up to run like a wind-up toy, keeping things stable until the spring runs out or it falls off the table? Are you letting the NCR annex Vegas? Intervening in Hoover Dam?"

There was a moment of fairly pregnant silence in the room, and finally Arcade sighed. "You didn't think about these things, did you."

"Well, no, I hadn't really thought that far. I figured we could answer those questions when we got there," Veronica replied with a wry smile.

Arcade shook his head. "You can't pull off a coup without a plan for what happens after. Someone's got to fill the void, or else you'll see the Mojave descend into anarchy."

"Reminds me of a holovid I watched once," Boone quipped. "The Dutchman must always have a captain."

"Exactly! I loved that holovid trilogy as a kid."

Now it was Veronica's turn to sigh. "Look, I don't know for sure. I do know it can't be the NCR that takes over - no offense, Craig."

"None taken. I love the NCR, but I'm not blind to its issues." His face darkened as the memories of Bitter Springs flashed before his eyes.

"And we certainly can't let the Legion in here. I think... I think the Mojave should have an opportunity to decide for itself what it wants to be. To be free to chart a course between the Bull and the Bear. To let go... and start over."

"Is that something you learned from the Sierra Madre?" Arcade quipped sardonically.

"Unironically yes," Veronica replied. "If the Mojave wants to grow, it has to shake off the past - all three of its incarnations. And the Securitron army will be the tool that makes that happen, and safeguards it afterwards while it tries to figure itself out."

Arcade blew out a big breath. "Oooookay, so this turned from a coup into a full-blown independence movement, gotcha," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "All right, ED-E and I will get cracking on the data. There is something you oughta check on, though, before we kick this off - I overheard Julie talking about something going down at Gomorrah, some sort of plan that they have to take over the Strip. You might want to check it out, and nip it in the bud, lest our revolution turn into anarchy before it gets off the ground."

Veronica sighed. "No rest for the wicked, is there. C'mon, Craig. I'm sure I'll need some backup in that den of iniquity."

"I got your back," Boone promised.

Promises Kept
The sounds of shovels hitting dirt and pickaxes breaking apart concrete filled North Freeside as workers removed the rubble underneath the freeway in preparation for new construction. The site was being prepared for the construction of a new library - constructed under the auspices of the Followers, funded by Veronica, and when it was done, available to all. The project was part of an initiative by Veronica to fulfill one of her original goals for taking power - the improvement of the lives of the people of the Mojave, using knowledge the Brotherhood would originally have merely hoarded. Knowledge, after all, was power - and education was really the only way to lift oneself out of poverty.

The library wasn't the only project. While workers built the library, the Followers cleared out the abandoned Silver Rush and began setting it up as a schoolhouse for the various street urchins of Freeside. The idea was to provide not just education, but a stable environment and mentorship to these kids who would otherwise just grow up into more junkies to lie in the tents of the Old Mormon Fort. They would start out with a primary school, for now - teaching basic reading, writing, and arithmetic - but eventually the goal was to also establish a high school.

Veronica was keen to also establish a university - not just for the noble goal of improving people's lives, but also to produce a pool of qualified technicians and engineers for the Dam. This was a matter that, however, when broached proved to be somewhat contentious - due to lobbying by the Mojave's various communities to have the university constructed within their confines. A university, after all, was a money-generator for communities, poor though students might be. Veronica wanted to build it in Henderson, renovating the old REPCONN headquarters which would otherwise be perfect for a university - but she was lobbied by Novac, Boulder City, Westside, and even Nelson to build it in their communities. It would take time to resolve the matter in a manner which would leave the fewest people offended.

Besides, there was lots of prep work that had to be done. Professors would need to be found for the various advanced subjects, books either found or written, teaching materials gathered. Veronica was already spending loads of caps on prospectors willing to delve into the Vaults to locate books and holotapes, data, etc. anything that might be useful for either the University or the Library. The books didn't have to be in good condition; burnt or moldy books were acceptable, so long as there was some legible writing somewhere in the tome. A team of scribes would pore over the bad books and attempt to reconstruct them; the more copies they had, the better, and eventually reconstructed tomes could be reprinted at a later date. The holy grail, of course, was the Library of Congress holotape that every vault was supposed to have been issued. Vault 21's was missing - either it had been thrown away by House, or buried under tons and tons of concrete. Vault 3's was also missing, presumed destroyed by the Fiends or traded away for chems. Surely one of the other vaults had at least one - if they could find it, they could just reprint the books they needed from the master holotape.

New Canaan's Gift
The MiG wasn't the only plane the Boomers received as a gift that year. Following the successful conclusion of the New Canaan Crusade, the New Canaanites turned up at the Boomers' doorstep with a number of carefully arranged and labeled crates. When opened, the crates revealed the disassembled sections of a B-17 bomber - the Flying Fortress, the predecessor to the Lady. Loyal just about had a heart attack at the sight; he was going to have to clear out hangar space in the second hangar in order to reassemble the machine.

The plane had been but one of a fairly large collection of aircraft found at Hill AFB, in an aerospace museum that had been on the premises. Age had rendered the vast majority of the aircraft worthless, but the B-17 had still been in good enough condition to perhaps be worth restoring. So the New Canaanites had taken it apart and shipped it to New Vegas, whereupon Veronica had promptly turned it over to the Boomers. After all, if anyone could do anything with the parts, it would be them.

The rest of the wrecks, however, Veronica kept for study. She was still hot on the trail of understanding the vertibirds; while fixed-wing aircraft weren't exactly the same as the tiltrotor aircraft, they could still provide valuable insight into the workings of the vehicles. And indeed, study of these parts proved to be crucial to unlocking their secrets, especially when inspecting an engine turbine pulled from a destroyed turboprop. The turbine proved to be similar at least in concept and operation to those used on the vertibirds, providing the last piece of information she needed.

Ironically enough, Daniel had also been gracious enough to send over two additional vertibird wrecks - one recovered from the hangars of the Hill air force base proper, and another that had been sitting around on the Salt Lake City Airport tarmac for some time. This brought Veronica's total count of vertibirds up to 4. She quickly set about repairing all four of them, roping Raul into helping her (and diverting him from a different project he'd been working on at behest of a caravan company).

Of course, there was the small matter of training pilots to fly the things, but that could be solved later... especially as it involved some knotty political questions about the who, what, and where of it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hill Aerospace Museum looted. 1 B-17 Flying Fortress kept. Remaining 64 planes (minus too modern models) scrapped for 320 tech docs. 7 tech docs used to finish Engineering 7.
Hill AFB and Salt Lake City International Airport both looted for 1 vertibird each.
4 vertibirds under repair, 28,000 caps, completion on RL Mar. 27

Griezelland wrote:

Meeting with King Albert VII

King Albert looked at them with sympathy, just as he looked at anyone who was stressed about meeting him. The court laughed a little when the foreigners bowed, as this was not a cultural thing for the local population, but they quickly stopped when Misha spoke. They seemed to listen to the foreigners as well.

Albert studied the strangers with his eyes and listened attentively to Misha. He understood nothing of what Arvo was saying, but when Misha finished speaking, an old man beside the king whispered in his ear before leaving through a door on the left behind the throne. The king then spoke.

"First of all, welcome to our lands. However, we are sad to learn that the Swiss do not communicate with us, and neither with you, it would seem. You say you're interested in trade? That's fine, we encourage trade. If you'd like, we'll put you in touch with companies and guilds to work out the details, but for our part, as long as our trading ships are accepted and treated correctly, we'll be sure to reciprocate. We may not speak the same languages, but that doesn't surprise us. Our Kingdom currently reigns over five languages. Five peoples who, despite their differences, are united under our crown. Differences that don't harm us, only enrich us. Our merchants will surely take advantage of trade to learn your language as they have always done and we would also be open to a cultural exchange and the opening of a place for exchange and cooperation between our people."

The man who had left returned with a large map and two young men in black suits with ties in the colours of royalty, black with a yellow lion, were carrying it. The King stopped talking as the two men unfolded the map in front of the strangers, it was a cloth map of the old Commonwealth, the map had aged somewhat, giving it a yellowed tint.

"Here is the map, your Majesty, their lands should be around here", said the old man, dressed in a white and yellow suit and a bishop's hat, pointing to Estonia with a long black stick.

"We see," said the king, leaning forward, slightly pensive.

"They're not in lands I aspire to, but I'd better be careful, I wouldn't want a second Switzerland," thought the king, whose information spoke of flying vehicles passing over the islands and the North Sea while making no contact with the kingdom. He feared the Swiss.

After this little interruption, he rested back in his chair and smiled to show some sympathy at the foreigners. "You may continue.", he said as he pointed with his fingers stretched together from his open hand at the strangers to let them speak.

Oops, finally got around to it

"Thank you, your majesty. It heartens us to see another nation who treats cultural differences as an asset, not a problem. We'll contact our fishing fleet, and the nowa maersk steamship line, and as you say, they'll arrange the details with the appropriate guilds. A cultural exchange would certainly be a wise decision. The opening of diplomatic missions might be good step in this direction. I've also heard tell of a temple-university - the Federation also has a substantial college, in the city of Tartu. Perhaps visits between professors could lead to an eventual programme for students to study abroad.

I feel that there's no cause to speak ill of our Swiss friends, who we've heard word of a visit from, but no details. They've been nothing but obliging to the Federation since our first communications. The vast distance, however, and the fact that only they currently understand the secrets of controlled flight, mean that we don't necessarily know everything that they know. With that said, we understand that owing to the tendency of their forefathers towards neutrality, the Swiss may harbor certain... reservations towards certain types of military assistance. We have no such reservations.

If your majesty should wish it, we're perfectly happy to share any knowledge that may be useful, particularly regarding that of motor vehicles, and smokeless powder. Our own national finances are quite tight in this regard, but if so desired, we'd also be happy to provide limited gifts of these weapons, along with appropriate ammunition and training. Of course, our government has its own agenda, as they tend to. His Excellency the Chancellor is quite eager to reach America. From, of course, the Swiss, we've heard some tales of their exploration of that lost continent. Highly advanced weapons, great industrial facilities, spices that almost no Estonian has tried in centuries. As we have no airships, we're quite eager to secure a passage by sea."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The item of external trade has been agreed upon. Both parties may trade by sea so far as their ships and harbor facilities allow.

The Arthurian Brotherhood wrote:Head Dean Walter Estai takes the plate and examines the image of the ghoul on it, "Ah yes, we are familiar with the concept of Ghouls. While there are very few within our walls here, there are a handful of non-feral ghouls who do call the Plateau home. The majority of our citizens have a negative view on ghouls due to a large attach by a feral horde on the Plateau in the mid 2160's. While there is no hostility that our people have against them, its more that generally there are many people who lost relatives in that attack. Regardless, I do not have those sentiments and would love to meet Mr. Kasovsky should the opportunity arise."

"As for your foreign exchange program, we would welcome a mixing of cultures and ideas. However, we would just like to make sure students on either side of a general understanding of the language. Otherwise, we can begin immediately so long as the paperwork is filled out properly.

------

President Jurus smiles at the Advocate, "Well I can assure you we actually have that matter in hand. Here in the Palace of Nations we have multiple areas we plan on setting up as embassies. The site has active channels of communication still open, close proximity to our airfields, and a direct line to Bern for contact with our government. Unless you have any objections, you can have your pick of any of the former Baltic section of the Palace."

Shaking Hands with the Cheese Mafia IV

Anna Viires: "That's excellent news, Mr. President. I'm quite certain such an area would do nicely. After nomination, the new ambassador and his staff will call for transport. Any word regarding the Swiss diplomatic mission?"

---

Ingrid Pai: "A-and I'm sure Rector Kasovsky would love to meet you as well, sir! I... well, I'm technically just a student, I can't sign anything myself, but I'd be happy to take the documents on my return flight. The staff mentioned that they could open with language classes. But since first contact over the radio, the faculty have been working constantly in building up language proficiencies, especially in French. If it could be the language of instruction for exchange classes, then they're ready to go!"

Juris Rothkowitz: "Of course, we do have our own issues regarding feral ghoul attacks - it would seem that they are extremely prevalent in prewar Russia, and the Fort at Narva is essentially constantly fighting groups of them. There's a theory that they're being... lured, but that's more of a military issue."

---

Meanwhile, Lisette seeks out a representative from the red cross, eager to learn the status of their plans for a facility in Riga.

Nuka-realm

The Interlude

It had been a long few months since Gage had briefed Kieran at Fizztop Mountain. Many raiders feared a return to Colter's stagnation, even Gage was starting to get nervous.

In reality, Kieran had just been debating if he even wanted the job. He wasn't a raider, in fact he detested raiders. Not for any moral sensibility or reason for his past, he always felt raiders were stupid. Small minded, illogical, petty, always thinking about the present and never the future. Not to mention Kieran was never really a leading type. Not back in his Brotherhood days, not when he ran with that group of Mercs, and not now.

Still though, Kieran realized something. If there was ever a chance to turn the Commonwealth- no the greater Massachusetts Wasteland, into something more than a chaotic land of struggling groups, recovering behind everywhere else in the Wasteland, than this might be it. These raiders were pretty skilled, good shots, good at fighting, just thinking too much in the now and not enough in the future.

Kieran would build something of a kingdom, settlements would swear fealty to Nuka-World and to the gangs, handing over supplies In exchange they'd receive protection, their caravans would be safe, and they'd receive all of the amenities of Kieran's new "kingdom." Kieran admitted it was similar to the Minutemen, but the Minutemen were weak. Less a centralized group and more an alliance of settlements. They failed once already, they'll fail again.

If this was gonna work out though, Kieran was gonna have to take these parks and soon. He'd get the gangs rallied, and begin a push north...

Maxson I: A King and his Ship

It looks even worse from up here, Maxson thought to himself, looking down on the Citadel through the windows of the Prydwen's observation deck. He spent so many years beyond those gray, colorless walls. . .and hated every second of it. When he was younger, he yearned every day to venture outside and fight alongside his brethren, yearned to return to the days of his voyage to the Capital Wasteland, filled with peril and danger. It's why now, being an Elder, he made a promise with himself to never set foot inside the Citadel unless completely necessary. His days of being that little kid behind those walls were long over with. He much preferred the Prydwen, being high above the Capital Wasteland, able to see for miles around, the view was beautiful, relaxing. In the times where he felt the anxiety and pressure being too much, he would come here to the observation deck and look across the Wasteland. . .

"Good evening sir," Maxson was startled by the voice and swung around to see Star Paladin Edwards, responsible for managing operations across the Capital Wasteland, standing at the entrance to the observation deck. "Forgive me Edwards, I forgot I was expecting your report today,"

"If you'd rather I come back later Elder I-" Edwards started but was quickly interrupted, "No, no it's perfectly fine. What is your report Edwards?"

Edwards nods handing a folder of papers to Maxson, who looks through the papers as Edwards speaks, "Operations in the Capital Wasteland continue smoothly, we have had zero deaths due to casualties in the past month. Only a handful of injuries, most of which are minor. Supply and trading lines continue to operate under our supervision with only one incursion occurring in the past month. Settlements continue to remain safe and under our protection, and people still seem to be content with the Brotherhood Tax. Now, relating to our current standing with maintenance and budget. . ."

Maxson looks up, "Did you investigate the concerns we had?"

Edwards nods, "Yes, and as of now, everything is running fine. However, our projections show that our current maintenance costs for our soldiers, equipment, and vehicles is not sustainable in the long run. We'll likely have to switch to lower maintenance weapons and armoring for lower level initiates and recruits long term in order to keep up with our heavy weaponry. We could also look at. . .expanding the Brotherhood's reach. . .have you heard anything from our recon team in the Commonwealth?"

Maxson looks up again, his face solemn, "Nothing yet, we can only hope for the best until we have a confirmation of conditions on the ground. Danse is one of our best, I'm confident he will lead his team to safety. But until we hear back, we can not make a major move of resources that far north. If we want to look at expanding our reach, a good place to look closer might be the former city of Baltimore, a good area that could have some technological value. Previous scouts have indicated minimal threats, I'll authorize some additional teams to get a better scope of the region. Until then, work on a report for possibly creating a new Brotherhood rank. . .a Police or Peacekeeping force of some kind. We could divert lower maintenance resources to this group and have them be responsible for patrolling. Might help ease the burden off of our main forces in the long run."

"I'll get back to you with a report on that Elder," Edwards puts his fist to his chest, "Ad Victoriam!"

Maxson nods to Edwards as he leaves, closing the folder with his report and turning back to the view of the Capital Wasteland, It might be time soon to embark on a journey for some new sights. . .

Santiago AU, Ardentus, and Nuka-realm

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