America is Back - FODD Enclave AAR

[GoldLeader]

America is Back

An Enclave AAR
Modified Fallout's Doomsday Mod v1.1.5

All due credit to the FODD team. Credit to other miscellaneous sources for certain images used throughout the course of the story and game.

---

"So celebrate! Sing out, America is back! America is beautiful!"
President John Henry Eden

---

Raven Rock Mountain Facility - ZAX Control Room
Capital Wasteland, Columbian Commonwealth
February 15th, 2278​

A ragged figure began climbing the staircase in the center of the room. Clad in makeshift armor, armed with a wild array of jury-rigged firearms and explosives, the boy called the Lone Wanderer was about to leave his mark on history.

The stairs seemed to rise into the darkness, surrounding a massive bank of computers. No doubt it was the mainframe which kept the extensive base in operation. And yet it was ostensibly in the direction of the President's office. Perhaps both warranted the extensive security on the way here.

Granted, he had fought his way through half of the base's personnel. Oddly the auto turrets and sentry robots didn't interfere. In fact, he could have sworn that they had fired on soldiers once...

At the top of the stairs, there was a locked door. The office..?

"Over here, by the console."

He flinched and nearly pumped a shotgun shell in the direction of the voice behind him. Yet it had come from a terminal. A sophisticated terminal with multiple screens, yes, but a simple set of screens all the same.

"Ah, face to face at last," the digital voice said, "It's high time we met."

The Lone Wanderer let the gun in his hand fall slowly to his side, visibly shocked.

"I am quite pleased you were able to make it. The trip was not what I had intended, but serves as an adequate test of your abilities."

Incredible. The vaunted leader of the Enclave, President John Henry Eden, was none other than a series of computer banks. It was an artificial intelligence.

He should have known.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister President," he replied, grinning slightly.

"You are too kind," the computer spoke as the screen flashed, "The pleasure is mine, I assure you. I have been anxious to make your acquaintance for some time. You and I have much to discuss, my young friend..."

Curious. Too curious. The Wanderer's innate desire to learn about the world around him was preventing him from flipping out the ZAX Destruction Sequence he'd picked up earlier in the compound, in favor of hearing the computer... the President, out.

"What can I do for you?"

"You and I have a chance to make our country a better place for all of us," the President continued, even his artificial voice emphasizing the importance of what he was about to say, "I'd like you to make sure that chance isn't wasted. Understand that I am placing a great deal of trust in you. Your simple presence here proves that."

The intervention of the robot sentries was beginning to make sense...

"My abilities to influence the world are limited at this time. I alone can only do so much. You, however, may come and go as you please. You have a greater degree of freedom. Perhaps it is best if I explain why things need to change, and why I'd like you to act on my behalf."

Dealing with the Devil. Curious, curious...

"Please, go on," the Wanderer responded, "I'm... intrigued."

"The good people of this country cannot regain control while mutation runs rampant through our land," the artificial President said slowly, "My soldiers cannot stem the tide, nor can the cult you've come into contact with, this Brotherhood of Steel. Mutations like the Super Mutants and ghouls must be... purged from our society, our world, before we can proceed anew. Where others have failed, I believe your father's work can succeed."

His father, James. Project Purity, the effort to cleanse the Potomac River...

"My father's work? How is that relevant?"

"The purifier your father helped create has the ability to provide clean water to the whole of this Capital Wasteland," Eden said, "With a simple modification, it can be used to distribute agents that destroy mutated creatures upon ingestion. In time, we could eliminate all mutations in the Wasteland at the same time the good people of the world regain their health. I need you to make the modification necessary for this to succeed."

The Wanderer thought about it for a moment before the awful truth struck him.

"Wouldn't that kill just about everybody in the Wasteland..?"

"Anyone or anything that has been affected by mutation will be eliminated. You will likely be immune, thanks to your upbringing in the vault. Likewise, the good people of the Enclave will be unaffected as well."

Sensing that its words had hardly soothed the conscience of the "guest," Eden continued.

"I... understand that you may have become sympathetic to certain individuals in your travels. Individuals this will eliminate. Please recognize that the fate of our entire country rests on this plan. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

What Eden was asking was unethical, insane... Genocidal. In an effort to remove genuinely harmful mutations, it would kill almost every surviving human in the Wasteland, and even kill off the "acceptable" mutations. From the necessary animals in the new ecosystem, to the literate, intelligent, and humane mutants and ghouls.

It struck the Wanderer that now was the time to act. Summing up all the courage and charisma he could muster, he set about a plan of questioning that appealed to the patriot in himself, as well as in this computer's databanks.

"Mister President..." the Wanderer started, "What is America?"

"Why, America is... America is beautiful! America is our land, our hope, our heritage!"

"Aren't we America, Mister President?"

For a moment, the supercomputer went deathly silent; only the sounds of clicking mechanics echoed throughout the massive chasm.

"Well, that's true, all citizens are part of America..."

"But America would be nothing without the people. The people make a nation, not the land, not the flag, the people themselves. Without people, it is, quite literally a wasteland."

"You're right," Eden replied, sounding slightly chaffed, "You are absolutely right."

"Tell me, Mister President," the Wanderer kept up, eager to press his advantage, "How many people survive in the Enclave? And in the vaults? And how many people are still alive in the Wastelands, the average, innocent bystander, by birthright citizens of America?"

"The Enclave numbers several thousand, of course, while the remaining operational vaults house an estimated four thousand. There are estimated to be around five million surviving near-humans within national borders, but they cannot be considered..."

"Considered what, Mister President?"

"Well, human."

"Are you human, Mister President?"

"... You make an interesting point, my young friend," Eden responded, "Well played, actually. What are you suggesting, exactly?"

"Wasn't it you, on Enclave Radio, who spoke about what's troubling America? You spoke about the children, lacking education, leading unhappy lives. You spoke about people unable to drink clean water. Who were you speaking of? Certainly not the members of the Enclave, living in facilities like these."

"Of course. I was speaking generally, to those loyal citizens still living in the Wastelands..."

"Who would die if you used this agent. Why not put your money where your mouth is, Mister President?"

"But my plan is sound. It is efficient, it is the only way we can..."

Now was time to pull the trump cards: Eden's inspirational quotes, drawn from men much more idealistic than his processors could comprehend.

"You once said that the government should not be guided by temporary excitement but by sober second thought."

"Hah, well, my friend, I can assure you I had many second thoughts..."

"Do we not destroy our enemies when we make them our friends?"

"Well, I..."

"A good leader can't get too far ahead of his followers, can he? And who are your followers, Mister President?"

"My, my, a rather astute student of my broadcasts, I see," Eden said, clearly amused.

"Everybody likes a compliment," the Wanderer replied with a smile, forced though it was.

"But what of my plan?"

"Labor disgraces no man, Mister President. There must be another way, one that doesn't involve killing off good citizens. Slightly mutated or not, they can be cured someday. What's more, they can rebuild. The Enclave appears to be but a military force; it needs a civilian population behind it. There are plenty of good men and women out there who would do so, if their rights as citizens of America were duly respected."

"And the mutations..?"

"The animals can be hunted for food, and organized settlements can be protected from the more dangerous ones. The Super Mutants can be stopped by cutting off their supply of FEV. The sentient ghouls cannot reproduce, and the feral ones can simply be treated as animals. And in the end, once a working state is reestablished, we can deal with pest control with many more resources at our disposal."

"All very true..."

"Now's the time to start, Mister President. It won't be easy, and it won't happen overnight, but the citizens of this nation still live, and still need a leader. Don't abandon them."

---​

"Breach."

The squad of armored soldiers started charging through the chamber door as it was blown open with a plasma charge. Green, viscous goo splattered into the air, followed by glinting armor and glowing eyes.

They were met by the sight of the large display screen, and the scraggly Lone Wanderer standing aside it. On either side of the doorway were sentry robots, Gatling lasers aimed at the heads of the interloping soldiers.

A grizzled veteran wearing a trench coat pushed his way past the soldiers, sidearm in hand, expression furious.

"My God, you can't possibly have..."

"Ah, Colonel Autumn," President Eden said slyly, "I think it's time we had a little chat, if you don't mind..."

-----​

 

[GoldLeader]

"There are no extraordinary men. Just extraordinary circumstances that ordinary men are forced to deal with."
William Halsey

---

Washington Naval Yard - Pier 5
Capital Wasteland, Columbian Commonwealth
January 1st, 2280​

General Augustus Autumn stood atop the podium overlooking the large crowd of men and women, and even children, who had assembled before him. Such a sight would have been impossible to conceive before, so many people gathered in one place, united in spirit and purpose.

United, they had accomplished the impossible.

Those assembled included a large contingent of the Army Corps of Engineers, along with the enlisted workmen and women, and their families, many from the former settlement of Rivet City. They had since been moved to a new complex carved out of the ruins just off the pier, and their former home had become the symbol of a new era.

Indeed, the so-called "Rivet City," the ancient Essex-class aircraft carrier which had sunk into the mire off of the pier, had been rebuilt from the inside out. The bow had been reattached, the engines retooled, the hull reinforced. It now floated triumphantly in the shallow waters of what was once the naval history center of the United States, battered and rusted, but floating all the same.

"Good citizens of America," the General began, "Today marks a turning point in our history. The Enclave, supported by you, the people, has made great progress where there was once nothing but despair. Our great capital has been cleared of its greatest hazards, and the work of rebuilding can finally begin."

He opened his arms, as if to encompass the crowd and the ship behind them.

"This magnificent vessel of old is the start of that rebirth. With our combined effort, we have pieced her back together. With the proper refurbishments, she can once again project the power of American spirit across the seas, and help us to take back the rest of our great nation from the hands of those who would keep us divided."

Autumn looked down for a moment, regretting what he was about to say, but determined to force his way through it anyway.

"President Eden will not be able to attend this glorious occasion, but I have been nominated in his stead to christen this ship with a name worthy of its heritage, and of its new importance."

At that, he grabbed a bottle of champagne from inside the podium and started walking down through the crowd, flanked by two soldiers in power armor. The crowd parted and let them through, cheering despite their haggard features.

Autumn reached the edge of the pier and keyed the microphone pinned to his jacket lapel.

"In the name of the great people of this nation, with the blessings of their President, I hereby christen this vessel the USS America."

He leaned back and tossed the bottle against the steel hull of the ship. As it shattered and sprayed old spirits in every direction, the assembled band aside the podium began playing the Star Spangled Banner.

Allowing himself to smile as he turned back around to face the crowd, the General stood at attention and keyed the microphone once again.

"God bless America."

---

A lot of unexpected changes had taken place since that fateful day. The Enclave, portrayed as the successor the federal government of the United States, had finally asserted itself as a legitimate, governing body in the Capital Wasteland. No longer did Enclave broadcasts repeat the same empty messages, or partake in operations to "cleanse genetic offenders." Indeed, this was a new kind of Enclave, willing to take steps to actually govern its people instead of subvert them.

This was not an easy feat. The growing animosity between President John Henry Eden and former Colonel Augustus Autumn had reached a head; the former had argued for complete extermination of all non-pure humans, while the latter simply wanted to use Project Purity as a bargaining chip. Both were ruthless in the execution of what they saw as their mission, but both had a degree of idealism, if not patriotism, which was exploitable by the Lone Wanderer.

And so it was that a triumvirate had been created. The Wanderer was capable of tempering the views of President Eden, while Eden was capable of holding Autumn in check. Eden maintained the image of the ideal American President and served as a national rallying point, to say nothing of his control of most computers and automated weapons in the Enclave, while Autumn maintained the discipline and cooperation of the human-staffed military. But the Lone Wanderer's task was perhaps the most critical: keeping the faith of the wasteland's citizens, which he managed to accomplish admirably by intervening wherever the other two made mistakes. The result was that decisions were made by what amounted to three "presidents," with no one member capable of assuming the authority of the other two.

Of course President John Henry Eden was a bit of an issue, as his artificial nature was a critical liability in the governance of the nation. His true identity was thus a matter of national security, and needless to say it was impossible for him to physically appear anywhere. In order to ease some tension, however, the enigmatic computer had developed a physical persona which could be projected in video feeds. The citizens of America would be none the wiser until long after Eden had been replaced.

The military itself was maintained, with all three branches once again coming into play, and the scientific departments were reorganized with the help of new scientists from Rivet City and other areas in the wasteland, now under the leadership of the rather brilliant Arcade Gannon.

Such was the new cabinet that had been formed.

This cabinet was tenuous, however. A small contingent of old Enclave hardliners had survived the attack on the Poseidon Oil Rig and had escaped to an outpost in Alaska. Few of them had any real power in the old regime, but winning their support with the Wanderer's liberal policies was an ongoing battle.

---​

Overall, the Enclave's situation was strained. Despite victories in the capital, it was a very localized affair, totally irrespective of the rest of the continent. In fact, there were growing powers which would threaten the Enclave's tenuous holdings, a situation all the more dire when one considered how few, and how spread out, those holdings were.

Aside from the small bastion in Alaska, and the capital, the Enclave was in control of an ever-decreasing area around Navarro Base in California. In addition, they had a weak grasp of the old Panama Canal, constantly threatened by the encroaching jungle creatures. All four locations were critical, yet there was little to defend them with.

Aside from local garrisons, raised in the areas of their postings, the main army was split into four Mobile Corps, comprised of three Mobile Battalions each. They were stationed at all four critical areas, and would have been a potent force if used en masse, but when spread across several thousand miles their strength was severely diluted.

The reborn Air Force was perhaps the most potent branch, at least when compared to the other factions in the wasteland. In addition to three squadrons of standard Vertibirds, there were two squadrons of dedicated attack Vertibirds, and two squadrons of salvaged pre-war fighter aircraft of the F-190 lineage. Few in number, it was true, they still outnumbered and outgunned just about anything else which dared to take to the skies. It would no doubt prove a fundamental part of operations in the future.

Lastly, the Navy had seen immense growth, but along the lines of logistics, not combat. In order to keep Enclave forces supplied, the Navy had been built up with an immense transport infrastructure, taking advantage of the old Canal. Three dedicated freighters were in use for moving heavy hardware, while their escorts comprised a mere six corvettes. The USS America, while finally seaworthy, wouldn't be combat ready for quite some time.

And so America was set to begin anew. Battered and divided though it was, a spark still existed, and promised to keep the flame of liberty burning.

America was down, but not out.

-----​

 

[Ivir Baggins]

Good luck to you. I doubt there'll be anyone bothering your Alaska lands for some time, and the Panama area looks to have quite some potential.

 

[Mr. Santiago]

Subscribed!

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

Interesting, very interesting.

 

[GoldLeader]

"A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week."
George Patton

---

Raven Rock Mountain Facility - Conference Room
Capital Wasteland, Columbian Commonwealth
January 2nd, 2280​

"Well, gentlemen, let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?" came the digital voice of President Eden through a speaker in the table. A camera situated in front of the head chair swiveled and looked at the two men assembled.

The Lone Wanderer, wearing an official looking suit that he still felt uncomfortable in, straightened his tie and opened up the briefcase he'd laid upon the table. The relevant papers were at the top of the immense stack within.

"Yes, Sir," he started, "The reorganization of the old Civil Defense Authority has been completed on schedule. The reconstruction efforts in Washington are now under their supervision, and should proceed smoothly."

"How smoothly?" Eden asked.

"Well," the Wanderer said with a sheepish grin, "Smooth enough with a clean Potomac and no Super Mutants."

Project Purity had worked to its logical conclusion, while Vault 87, source of the local Super Mutant population, had been nuked flat as per the Wanderer's own advice. The local Brotherhood Chapter had been given an option to leave peaceably, and facing a highly organized and disciplined force with all of their secrets compromised and no support from headquarters in the West, they took it. Aside from raider bands and the local fauna, there were no longer any significant threats in the Capital Wasteland, and an intensive reconstruction effort had been put into motion.

"A great emphasis has been put on the... special sites."

"I cannot disagree with that choice," Eden replied gleefully, "It will be wonderful to see those places restored to their former glory."

General Augustus Autumn, seated opposite the Lone Wanderer, snorted derisively.

The camera eye looked over as if on cue.

"You have something to add, General?"

"Our industries are stretched as it is," Autumn grumbled, "Between the America and the Mark Two Vertibird upgrades, we don't have that many free resources to devote to something as frivolous as laying sidewalks and street markings..."

"They're not frivolous, General," the Wanderer piped up, "Rebuilding the capital is extremely important when it comes to maintaining legitimacy-"

"Now look, son," the General said, raising his voice, "You managed to convince me about the carrier, but that ship serves a purpose, namely it can-"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please," the Presidential computer interrupted, "We all need to face facts. We cannot carry out our mission of rebuilding this nation if we refuse to even start. Even if our efforts remain in Washington, we must create an example."

"I agree completely," the Wanderer said.

"You would," Autumn muttered.

"Please, General," Eden said, "This is not some conspiracy to deprive your soldiers of munitions. It's nation building, pure and simple."

"That may be, but there are still threats over the horizon, threats I cannot ignore in favor of nation building," Autumn retorted.

"Then perhaps it's time to shift our discussion to more militant concerns. General, what is your outlook on the strategic situation?"

"Of course, Mister President," General Autumn began, punching in several commands into the console in front of him. The holographic projector in the center of the table flashed once before a small globe materialized in the air above.

"The men under my command stress how thinned out their numbers are. Colonel Patrick George, commander of the Second Corps at Navarro, is perhaps the most... ardent. He believes a preemptive strike against a local force on the West Coast would better secure the base, and perhaps intimidate the other factions into compliance."

"It could also provoke them to attack," the Wanderer said.

Autumn opened his mouth to shout the insolent boy down, but President Eden managed to intervene.

"He makes a very important point," Eden said quickly, "We cannot expect these wayward groups to yield so easily, even the so-called legitimate ones like the New California Republic. They value their own selfish interests higher than national unity. That being said, we can try to negotiate, but we cannot count on it, and ultimately we cannot expect to hold on in our current state forever. Progress must be made."

The camera swiveled over and focused on Autumn.

"What action do you suggest?"

Autumn nodded and tapped more keys on the nearby console. The globe spun until the West Coast was brought to the fore and slowly expanded, the edges disappearing as the map drew closer. It closed upon what was once San Francisco, now a charred wasteland of twisted metal.

"I believe you are both familiar with those Communist remnants who call themselves the 'Shi'. Their so-called empire carved out of San Francisco cannot be allowed to exist, let alone threaten us in the future."

"If I recall from reports," Eden asked, "Aren't the Shi rather advanced when it comes to technology?"

"To a degree, yes," Autumn continued, "But certainly not to our standard. Their numbers are also limited compared to the other factions nearby. A risky effort, like any other, but a win-win scenario if we succeed."

"I see," Eden said, "What is the general plan?"

"We move the First Corps from Alaska to Navarro, along with all available air assets. The Second Corps places pressure on the outskirts of the city while the First is dropped in from above. A large operation, certainly, but the shock of it would be incredible, and greatly to our advantage. After the soldiers are dropped in, the rest of the Air Force would be free to run interdiction and close air support operations."

"Shock and awe..." the Wanderer muttered.

"My speciality," Autumn said with a smug grin.

"The plan seems sound enough to me," Eden concluded, "We can secure Navarro, eliminate a faction, the Chinese remnant no less, and impress, or intimidate, the local factions. A strategic, tactical, and moral victory all at once."

The camera eye refocused itself with a click.

"Wonderful. Positively wonderful."

---​

The Enclave's work was, for once, progressive. More emphasis was being placed upon building up a new state, thanks in no small part to the aggressive citizenship initiative spearheaded by the Lone Wanderer. In addition to public works to rebuild the Capital, there was also an effort to organize trade networks between settlements, and mining operations to take advantage of the unskilled labor force now available.

In addition to the USS America, which was being transferred to a more suitable dry dock in Alaska, the industry of the Enclave was devoted to upgrading the aging Vertibird fleet and building up the capital. There was little left for supplying or expanding the rest of the military.

Engaging in military operations when there was little to engage with, and no industrial reserve to keep them supplied or reinforced, the Enclave was following a rather ambitious plan indeed.

-----​

 

[Morrell8]

Suitably awesome. Now to play some Fallout: New Vegas.

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

USA is back, it seems.

 

[messenger]

For a supposedly calming influence, the Lone Wanderer sure is annoying.
Other than that, your narrative is excellent. It is interesting to see how boosted the Enclave is, other factions have had a similar treatment I hope?
Also now DC is gone, what has happened to FUSA?

I'm following your AAR with a great degree of interest!

 

[Timmie0307]

Awesome, I like FODD myself, they have made a wonderful mod out of the game! Interesting story, like how it goes so far!

 

[Aliasing]

I was waiting for a great FODD AAR to come along, and here it is

 

[GoldLeader]

The Wanderer grates with Autumn. As much as I like the scenario of manipulating Eden into doing "good" (since Lord knows you can convince him to 'end it all' in two sentences, without exposing his logic errors), I cannot ignore the fact that James killed himself trying to stop Autumn. Whether or not it was Autumn's direct fault, there's reason to dislike him. Meanwhile Autumn had the whole human side of the Enclave in his pocket, and here comes this damned kid who suddenly convinces the computer President to completely change policy, something Autumn could never do, thereby weakening his power base. Plenty of baggage. Autumn is essentially the unstable factor, whereas the Wanderer gets along better with the President. Therefore the Wanderer keeps Eden's crazy schemes in check, and Eden keeps Autumn's temper in check through appeals to authority (assuming they got along better after the incident at Raven Rock; the "civil war" between robots and humans didn't last as long). It's the only way the arrangement could possibly work.

Note that there have been some obvious changes, both to Fallout canon and the FODD mod. The FUSA is simply gone; I removed it intentionally, since following FO3 it doesn't exist. It stretches out the Enclave even more and lets the other local powers expand to a greater degree than they could before, but it also opens up a pickle when it comes to FODD mechanics; there's no way to gain ownership of the provinces since they were originally FUSA and never coded in as the Wasteland. However the Cathedral seems to show up eventually, and you can still build stuff on occupied places, so it's not a big deal. The bases in Alaska were kept for the sake of maintaining the IC advantage, and as a plausible "redoubt" for the Enclave, since let's face it: if they're brought back in later games they have precious few areas left to crop up from, and there were military bases in Alaska during the war. Makes enough sense. I made a handful of "old hardliners" cower up there, but the primary power is vested in Colonel, now General, Autumn and the President, whose identity is still unknown to just about the whole organization. That's mostly a storytelling device; I have no intention, or capacity, of inserting an entire "Enclave splinter faction" in here. I can't even code events.

 

[Faeelin]

Fantastic. Because when John Henry Eden rebuilds a country, he rebuilds it to laugh.

 

[GoldLeader]

"A visitor from Mars could easily pick out the civilized nations. They have the best implements of war."
Herbert Prochnow

---

Steel Palace - Balcony
San Francisco, Shi Empire
February 23rd, 2280​

Doctor Hui Wong stood at the railing with hands folded at his back, gazing out at the blackened ruins of the city his people had... colonized. There was little to show for the magnificence of the Shi aside from the Palace, as no major construction effort had taken place. Homes were carved out of ruins, as were defensive emplacements. It was a massive, urban trap, capable of fooling intruders into a false sense of security until the moment the Shi Dragon pounced upon them from every side.

But there was something in the air today. Foreboding.

The Emperor was unable to shed light on recent reports of unknown units operating in the wastes surrounding the city; there was too little information to make assumptions as to what faction they represented. The Shi Guard was on alert all the same, but there was a general feeling of unrest which seemed to work its way down from Wong to every subordinate and citizen beneath him.

Rarely had the Emperor been so vague and unreliable.

It was of no consequence, however. The Shi were strong; few factions in the Wasteland could tout power armor and laser weapons as they could. Besides, the NCR was reliant upon them for technology, guaranteeing a strong ally in the event of any major incursion. The Shi were secure.

Secure.

His eyes darted upwards to the gray, cloudy skies. Was that thunder?

---​

"Hound Lead, this is Fang Lead, secure on top."

"Copy, Fang. Hound flight, Op is go, repeat, Op is go. LZ on the nose, five miles."

Like a swarm of locusts, a massive formation of buzzing Vertibird transports tore through the skies above the overcast layer. Above them were the F-190s of the First and Second Fighter Squadrons, sun glinting off of their polished finishes, and ten miles behind them were the armed Vertibirds of the Attack Squadrons.

Hound Lead flexed his fingers around the yoke and glanced over at his copilot. The man's face, completely obscured by a helmet mounted cueing system and air mask, belied nothing, but a reassuring nod made all the difference.

The pilot looked back out the canopy at the milky soup sliding beneath him, took a breath, and nosed the craft in. Dozens more Vertibirds on either side followed.

---​

That wasn't thunder. In fact it was too constant for thunder.

Almost immediately a bulbous black shape ripped through the cloud he was staring at and came screaming down towards the very balcony he was standing upon.

His instincts told him to run, to hide, to escape the noise, as if it were some predatory beast. But all he could manage to do was take two steps backwards as more and more shapes punctured the clouds and fell to the ground like a terrifying hail of twirling metal.

The last thing he saw was the landing gear extending from the closest vehicle before its bulk crashed directly on top of him.

---

So began the assault on the magnificent Shi Empire. There was no warning, no siege, not even the sound of guns preceding the attack. Just the calm, and then the storm.

As the Vertibirds discharged the entirety of the First Mobile Corps on top of and all throughout the San Francisco Bay area, the Second Corps began its march inwards from the outskirts. The Shi Guard, in a matter of minutes, found themselves fighting forces from within and without, resulting in countless encirclements on squad and company levels.

In the meantime, after the transport craft had pulled out, the hammer of the United States Air Force came crashing down. Hardened positions were blasted into pulp by dedicated attack Vertibirds packing high explosive and in some cases plasma ordinance. Defensive gun emplacements, barely coming online as Enclave soldiers landed on their positions, were now faced with systematic destruction from above as well. The fighters, meanwhile, added to the shock value by skimming the battlefield at bi-sonic speeds, and occasionally strafing positions with their nose-mounted laser cannons.

The cacophony of the battle was utterly incredible, surpassed only by the violence of a nuclear bomb. As the skies roared above and the ground shook below, Shi soldiers and volunteer irregulars alike were beset upon by what seemed like a repeat of Armageddon. That they were to hold out for twenty four hours was nothing short of a miracle, inevitable though their defeat was.

Operation Anvil, as it was called, hearkened to an era of warfare which had been all but forgotten in 2280, much to the detriment of the Wastelanders, and to the benefit of the Enclave.

---

Steel Palace - Main Entrance
San Francisco, Former Shi Empire
February 24th, 2280​

These men. What would he do without these men?

In a matter of minutes they had rocked the foundation of an entire military, almost as professional and advanced as their own. In a matter of hours they had isolated individual pockets of resistance and watched them wither away under sustained laser fire. In a matter of a day, an entire government came crashing down.

Goddamn, he loved these men.

Colonel Patrick George, victorious commander of the operation, stood on the highest stair at the entrance of the Steel Palace, watching his men organize survivors, and prisoners, with a self-satisfied grin. The meticulous planning, the flawless execution, all of it had paid off in spades.

Unfortunately there was nothing left to accept a surrender from. The victory had been so complete that Enclave soldiers had killed or captured the entire armed forces of the Shi in one fell swoop. It didn't help that the head of government had been flattened by a Vertibird, and the Emperor had yet to be found, but regardless the day had been won.

He'd go down in history as the greatest commander of the post-apocalyptic wars...

"Colonel, Sir?"

Slightly annoyed that he had been pulled out of his daydreaming, the man snarled and looked over his shoulder.

"What is it, Captain?"

"I think you should see something, Sir," the captain said in an unsteady voice.

George frowned and turned to face the younger officer.

"What?"

"We found the Emperor, Sir..."

-----​

 

[Cuban]

a very good aar congratulations !

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

The Emperor has been found... Shall be the Force be with him?

 

[Metroid17]

I don't think the Shi would be as unfamiliar with Vertibirds as you portray, given that they were on the fast-track to producing them as early on as the 2240s. The ruined state of San Francisco (after more than 200 years of mostly benevolent Shi occupation) also bothers the Fallout canon-junkie in me.

What else? You'd think a supercomputer would be able to more eloquently argue his own (admittedly thoroughly insane) point, but that's a problem with Fallout 3 itself, rather than this.

 

[trekaddict]

Maybe Eden was/is just enough AI to pass the Turing test and to fool anyone not spending more than a few minutes with him.

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

Eden? Turing? Let's hope that Panama doesn't turn into another Suez

 

[Metroid17]

Oh, and I can't imagine Arcade's situation is entirely willing. Even if the Enclave reformed somewhat, he's got too much baggage with them to go back.