Fallout: Enclave Rising (FODD 1.01)

[unmerged(244481)]

Hello all, newie here After reading several excellent AARs here, i've decided to start one of my own, but in slightly different setting. Based off of SwordofJustice's excellent fallout mod for HOI2 Armageddon highly recommend to anyone interested in battling in a post-apocalyptic warfare setting or if you just happen to be a fallout fan.

http://www.terranova.dk/viewforum.php?f=15
http://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/showthread.php?311272-War-war-never-changes...

For those of you unfamilar with the fallout Universe, I'll post a summary below:

War. War never changes......

Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything, from God to justice to simple, psychotic rage.

The Romans waged war to gather slaves and wealth. Spain built an empire from its lust for gold and territory. Hitler shaped a battered Germany into an economic superpower.

In the 21st century, war was still waged over the resources that could be acquired. Only this time, the spoils of war were also its weapons: Petroleum and Uranium. For these resources, China would invade Alaska, the US would annex Canada, and the European Commonwealth would dissolve into quarreling, bickering nation-states, bent on controlling the last remaining resources on Earth.

In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation.

But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. From the ashes of nuclear devastation, a new civilization would struggle to arise. The apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history.

For man had succeeded in destroying the world - but war, war never changes.

The Enclave​

​

They remember an America that was great, strong, powerful and making them rich. These were the top corporate leaders, the true power behind the executive government of the USA. Of course, when the A-bombs began to fly, they had a plan to keep their America safe. They would retreat to their offshore bases prepared long before and from there they would rebuild the US and continue to rule. These were the hardliners that controlled America from the shadows. These fine, upstanding men and women work for the American dream. And that dream has no use for mutants, human looking or otherwise. They are the Enclave: tough, determined and with technology better then any in Wastelands could hope for. They still plot from the shadows to rebuild their corporate dominated America. They recently suffered a set back when the 'Chosen One' destroyed their Poseidon Oil Rig facility off the coast of San Francisco and killed President Dick Richardson.

The Enclave, however, was not destined to die with the oil rig. It is 2245 AD, three years have passed since the Chosen One ended the Enclave's plan for world domination; retreating to their final stronghold in Alaska, they prepare their final offensive to take America back, or die trying.

Table of Contents​

Chapter 1:
Prologue:

 

[unmerged(244481)]

***

"The soldier does not wish to appear a coward, disloyal, or un-American. The situation has been so defined that he can see himself as patriotic, courageous, and manly only through compliance."
​

Prologue​

***

Sergeant Wellings raised a hand as he watched the approaching column of pre-war trucks, his heavy boots stomping heavy marks in the snow. He noticed the logo on the side, belonging to a subdivision of Poseidon Energy, which was now charged with supplying the Enclave populations in Alaska with purified water and food. With the nuclear devastation of America's cities and infrastructure following the Great War of 2077, the remnants of the US government found themselves relying more and more on private contractors for manpower and energy needs, A legacy of the corporate dominated government that comprised the Enclave. This company in particular, was tasked with provisioning the Enclave military bases in the area, ensuring that the remaining pure strain American populations remained fed and loyal.

"Please have your identification ready as you pass the checkpoint." the loudspeakers on the watchtowers of the checkpoint echoed through the night. As the convoy approached, spotlights lit up the path, bathing all the trucks in a bright light, as well the the light snowfall, the contractor drivers eyed each other nervously as heavily armed troopers in Advanced Power Armor approached the trucks.

Power armor represented the peak of armored infantry warfare, allowing single soldiers to carry enough ordinance and protection to outfit a standard infantry platoon. The enclave version, in particular, was made of lightweight metal alloys, reinforced with ceramic castings at key stress points. Motion assist servo-motors built into the suit allowed the user greater versatility and strength, all this was powered by a power battery and internal gyro on the back, which gave the suit a hunched appearance. All which combined resulted in the most feared and respected soldier in the post-apocalyptic wasteland.

The trooper watched as the man in the driver's seat thrust forward his papers, slightly crumpled, the trooper took it, half-wondering why the man was staring down so intently at his steering wheel, but wrote it off as the power armor. It tended to make civilians go on edge, which helped.

"So, any issues taking your sweet time getting here today?" The corporal, bored out of his mind sitting in some frozen section of the Alaska Front, usually found some amusement having one-sided conversations with contractors, who were usually too intimidated to answer.

"Nope sir, all quiet today." The truck driver replied anxiously. "So uh...are we looking good sir?"

Wellings sighed, having grown used to the fact that civies approached Enclave troops as they would to the boogeyman for under their beds.

"We'll have you through in a sec civilian, just stay tight while we scan the convoy." The Enclave trooper said gruffly.

Sergeant Wellings gave a shout down to his squad mate, who was busily inspecting the cargo.

"How's it looking private?"

"Not bad sarge." The Enclave private replied. "No signs of infiltration so far sir, but if we-"

The private suddenly stopped in mid sentence as he heard a sneeze coming from inside the container truck that was supposed to contain packaged and processed food.

"We got stowaways!" The trooper yelled, and Wellings instinctively twisted around and raised his plasma rifle towards the driver. Smuggling non-enclave personnel onto unauthorized military sites was a treasonable offense.

He spun around, looking right down the barrel of a 10mm handgun, the driver's anxiety replaced with a cold glare.

"FOR THE CAUSE!"

Wellings felt the bullet graze off the outside of his power armor helmet, the bullet bounced off the metal plate, bruising his forehead but otherwise keeping him safe.

"Rebel! He's a reb! Open up! The whole convoy's been taken by them!" Wellings himself, shot several well placed plasma bolts through the truck door, disintegrating both the flimsy metal frame and the passenger within. More rounds burst through the snow around him, and he saw more insurgents emerging from the trucks, only to be gunned down seconds later by the Enclave troopers on the watch towers.

Within moments, the entire checkpoint erupted into a battlefield as the insurgents hidden within the container trucks burst forth, armed with pre-war Chinese assault rifles, a variant of the soviet AK-47. Bullets, laser and plasma bolts flew through the air as the Enclave troopers mercilessly turned the container trucks into swiss cheese. Screams erupted from within as the rebels found themselves unable to leave their trucks in time, crammed in there by the bodies of their dead comrades.

It only took a minute before the snow became stained with crimson, the dozen or so insurgents being reduced to charred bodies.

"Damned rebels, must be getting desperate to attempt raids like that." Sergeant Wellings said disdainfully. For the last few years, an unidentified group had made themselves known to Enclave outposts through various raids and attacks. The raids were usually for valuable equipment, like water purifers or weapons, but mostly it was because they identified the Enclave as enemies. They called themselves 'the Cause', Enclave Command had speculated that they were merely descendants of the Canadian rebels that had revolted against the U.S.A prior to the nuclear exchange with China. It was estimated that they were spread across the Canadian and Alaskan west coast, with strongholds as far south as Vancouver. Either way, they were an annoyance, and another danger added to the long list of enemies and hazards they found in the ice wastes.

"Patrolling the ice wastes almost makes me wish we were in a desert doesn't it sir?" The Enclave trooper grumbled.

"That's only after you get promoted, then you can patrol the desert." Wellings remarked snidely, then went about ordering more troopers on the scene to clean up the mess.

***​

Officers and soldiers in jet black uniforms shuffled around the hanger bay as men and women went about their business, inspecting weapons and power armor as they were stockpiled, reviewing mission data while power armored squads were assembled. The entire hanger, located underground, was lit with fluoresecent lighting, giving everything a dark green tinge to it, while the corridors leading into the terminal were clean, sterilized. A hot rush of wind soon filled the hanger as one of the VB-02 Vertibirds warmed up their engines, it's microfusion-powered propellers realigning themselves horizontally with the ground as it wheeled itself to one of the elevator heli-pads. A squad of heavy troopers ran to the craft, before disappearing behind its cold steel doors.

President Alan Richardson gave an appreciative whistle at the efficiency as he strolled calmly past the troops, who saluted as he past, sporting a fine pre-war business suit. He and his personal guard of four Enclave Secret Service troopers navigated the underground installations, and the dozens of personnel that milled about the complex. With the destruction of the Poseidon Oil Rig, or Control Station ENCLAVE as it was known within military circles, all the heavy air traffic of the Enclave armed forces, or what was left of it, had to be routed through their remaining airbases. With their airbase at Navarro now under lockdown, Unimak Island became the sole facility for the Enclave air fleet in North America, a hub for Enclave civilian and military personnel travelling in sorties between the mainland and the Aleutian Islands. Even as Richardson got off his personal Vertibird, several more were already being prepped to carry companies of troops to their mainland outposts. Yet, despite the inconvenience of having an airbase so far north, all of this was designed and thought out back before the bombs even fell in the Great War. Unimak was supposed to be the depot to provide the Anchorage Front air support, now, two hundred years later, it housed what was left of the U.S government. The true American government.

The President watched with calm detachment as soldiers in Tesla Armor began screening the officers that followed him, confirming each and every trooper with retinal ID scans and DNA verification before allowing them to pass into the next areas. The incident at the Oil Rig, which had cost the Enclave its president and vice president, not to mention several of its high ranking directors, made this caution wise if not mandatory. In one classified incident, a Tribal had reportedly managed to sneak onto the rig without detection, reaching and killing his predecessor. With such failures hanging on their heads, Enclave security had resolved to never let this happen again. However, the current President Richardson paid no heed to such threats. Though the loss of the Oil Rig and several high ranking officials was a serious blow, it was only one base and a fraction of the troops the Enclave had at its disposal. Sure, the high tech facilities and the FEV pet project Richardson had planned was gone, but that wouldn't destroy the Enclave any more than blowing up the Pentagon would dissolve the former-USA. The Enclave would endure, just as it always had these past one hundred and fifty years.

As the last officer passed through the screen, the President's pocket vibrated, he looked down to retrieve his small personal PDA, a device recently developed off the pre-war Vault Tec Pip-Boy, which synched up to the Enclave mainframe, a vast pre-war ZAX computer that processed all data inquiries and flow of information for the Enclave armed forces. Similar to the Pip-boy, the datapad had a biometric lock linked with his DNA, only usable by him. While it theoretically gave him the power to micromanage the Enclave down to the last trooper, Richardson found it more productive to have it advise him whenever a high level alert or incident had taken place within the Enclave. In this case, it was the alarm reminding him of the meeting that was being held in precisely ten minutes. The screen also lit up, showing an outline of the conference room as well as a visible picture of all attendees that were present.

He paused as he stopped in front of another checkpoint, an officer in grey quickly saluting smartly as he approached.

"Welcome back sir."

"Lieutenant Synder, always a pleasure" The President smiled. Like the last Richardson, he took the time to learn the names of his staff and subordinates, something that was painfully more easier now due to the smaller number of names compared to what his predecessor had to work with. Not only the President and Vice President, but the Joint Chiefs and several high ranking congressmen were lost with the Oil Rig disaster. Enclave high command was wiped out to the point where the most senior remaining civilian official was the Secretary of State. And while the Enclave was a militaristic faction in all but name, it was good politics to keep up the pretense of a civilian authority to the populace who yearned for the old America, and so Alan Richardson was pinned to replace his father and mentor, but that did not mean he was content to sit by idly as a puppet figurehead. Not when he was the commander and chief of the largest pre-war organization on the globe.

He was proud. Proud to belong to the last bastion of pure human civilization on the planet, backed by the best military force in America. When the Oil Rig was destroyed, Richardson found himself emerging from the Alaskan shelters being swamped with after action reports and information from every Enclave outpost from Navarro to Chicago. It was a humbling thought, to be in charge of every enlisted man, woman and child across the continental U.S, to lead the charge to one day reclaim and remake America into a better place. Unfortunately, that did not come without its costs, returns from Navarro estimated that at least three hundred highly trained personnel and military staff died on the rig. Those were losses the Enclave could hardly afford; with the conscription act passed, and the low Enclave civilian population already numbering in mere thousands and in danger of dwindling away to extinction, their remaining assets and resources had to be closely preserved and husbanded. America could not afford another Oil Rig incident, that was in fact, one of the reasons Richardson called the meeting, to discuss the realignment of Enclave priorities and strategic objectives.

"I presume the directors are waiting for my arrival?" Richardson asked casually.

"Yes sir, I've been told to provide an escort for you as well to the lower levels."

"That would be for the best." Richardson nodded, then turned to his escorts. "Thank you for your hard work gentlemen, you have done your duty well, take this time to rest and refit your men and await further orders, I will be around shortly."

The Enclave Secret Servicemen, their faces hidden behind the emotionless mask of his Advanced Power Armor, saluted gruffly. "Yes Mr. President." Then without another word, smartly turned and marched away.

"Now Lieutenant, let's get going, the Directors are probably eager to get the day's business started with." The lieutenant saluted, gesturing for two new sets of guards to follow the president, as they led him down the antiseptic halls towards the conference room. A retinal scanner appeared beside a set of engraved steel doors, eyebots and video cameras covered every inch of the hallway, while thermal sensors kept tabs on heat signatures in the room, matching them with the number of personnel that were authorized to be on the floor at that point in time. Richardson placed his chin on the robotic pad, letting the lasers on the wall do the rest.

Identity confirmed...Welcome Mister President

 

[Arilou]

Oooh, Fallout mod!

And as Enclave no less.
You will be stopped! *shakes fist*

 

[unmerged(244481)]

Arilou Thanks! but pray who can stop me? The Legion? In their antiquated football equipment? Or the NCR and their bloated bureaucracy muhaha

"I have never advocated war, except as a means of peace"
- Enclave president John Henry Eden
***

The twin metal doors hissed open, letting in a bit of light into the dim conference room. Monitors, computers and several piece of electronic equipment littered the walls, evidence of the hasty set up as Enclave high command evacuated their last base. A large holographic map of the world filled the back of the room, over which hung a large star spangled banner, the flag of their country.

"Gentlemen, a pleasure to see you all." President Richardson gave a political smile as he took his seat at the circular conference table. Around him, sat the highest ranking remaining members of the Enclave.

"The pleasure is ours Mr. President." General Westmoreland, a balding, heavy-set man dressed in the full uniform of an officer, saluted, as did the other officers in the room. As strategic advisor and de-facto leader of the three branches of the Enclave military, he was the closest military figure to the presidency.

The members of the Enclave board watched the president warily, but nodded a greeting in reply.

"If you gentlemen do not mind, I wish to get straight to business." Richardson slid across the room, taking his place at the central seat of the table, while Enclave guards took their posts at the doors.

"As of Enclave standing executive order 117, authorized by my predecessor and the former board, all executive power has been transferred to me, until the state of emergency and war has been lifted and when we are once again ready to reconvene congress and hold elections." Richardson smiled as he repeated the words, congress, though still in existence, had not convened in over a hundred years, and with the state of 'war' the Enclave had been in trying to reclaim the American mainland, they would be waiting for a while still. In the meantime, as president, he had full emergency powers, backed by precedent, and the power to directly control and manage state industry and infrastructures.

"Thank you, I swear, that I will do my best to uphold the oath of office and restore America to its former glory."

The Enclave board members did not salute as the military officials did, but instead, merely nodded. With most of the original members of the board killed on the Oil Rig, the newly appointed ones were still new in their roles, uncertain of their powers and responsibilities. In other words, manipulable. "We are glad to have you on board, Mr. President."

They've grown soft. Their methods outdated and proven useless. Now is the time for fresh blood, fresh ideas.

"Excellent gentlemen, now let's begin."

The president pressed a button on the console by his chair, turning the entire room dim as a holographic projection appeared in the middle of the room, showing the map of the continental United States.

"General Westmoreland, be so kind as to brief us on the military situation. Please be honest, no need to sugar coat anything."

The General stiffled a cough as he stood, "Ever since our incident at the Oil Rig, we've had uprisings against our forces from local troops. These skirmishes, along wit our recent losses in Navarro and Southern California, have cost us close to one thousand casualties. Our returns from the Oil rig and surviving units in Navarro also show that we have lost the majority of our vertibird fleet at the same incident."

Richardson shuffled in his chair uncomfortably as he heard the figures, they were worse than he had thought.

"Because all our sophisticated equipment was destroyed on the Rig, we've lost contact with Navarro as well as the battalions of troops we have there, we're hoping to re-establish contact there soon but from what our satellite imagery has shown, a significant detachment of troops have vanished from the base. Either by desertion or enemy operations."

The Enclave members around the room fell silent. Generations of work, undone in the span of one year.

"Our remaining forces comprise of two full battalions of power armored troops, and three more battalions of irregulars, less than half of what we had to work with a year ago. The other half of our armed forces are garrison troops, fit for defense but otherwise unfit for redeployment."

General Westmoreland shook his head as he gave his appraisal. "With the losses we took at Navarro and the Oil Rig, and the destruction of several of our best battalions, it is my considered opinion that our armed forces have ceased to exist as an offensive force."

The facts were laid out, brutally and without tact.

"Thank you General, I can always appreciate honest advice." He stared at the rest of the board. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the situation is clear, our one chance to catch the wasteland off guard had passed years ago, when we've lost our chance to retake the wastes when we had the element of surprise."

He gestured sweepingly towards the man of the Southwestern United States, it's redrawn borders denoting the factions currently picked up by ENCOM and their estimated territories.

"Now, not only are the local tribes aware of us, but some of them have grown strong and populous enough to field their own militaries. Needless to say gentlemen, the game has changed, and that is what I want to bring up in today's meeting. The real concern here, are the indigenous populations of mutants and tribals that have set up their own states on our soil. I believe we might have approached all this the wrong way.

"What do you mean Mr President?" Director Harmon, head of the Enclave InOps, asked curiously. She was perhaps the most respective field agent of the Enclave, having been tapped for promotion as soon as word of her superior's death came at the Oil Rig, she had passed qualifications for entry into the Enclave Shadows program with high marks, but opted to serve her country in the leadership role instead.

"Well, we all know the official policy towards the tribals was 'containment eradication', to put it bluntly." Richardson smiled, planning his pitch as a salesman would. "What has that done so far? But driven more personnel to flock to the causes of our enemies, while our own numbers are shrinking." The President scoffed as he remembered the vivid memories of his father, freaked out by the mutants and 'impure' mutants on the mainland. Rather than work with them, he decided it was best to wipe the slate clean with biological weapons. That got the Enclave the hostility of every faction on the mainland, not to mention forcing them into an alliance.

"You're not suggesting introducing infected mutants into our population of pure humans are you Mr President? That is against everything we stand for!" One of the Enclave board members asked, horrified.

"I agree," Richardson said disarmingly, "I agree, that mutants and non-humans are dangerous and seriously damaging our country, but we don't need to take such a hard line stance on them, at least for practical purposes. Look at the New California Republic. Decades ago, they were a collection of muddled shacks, but they've built themselves into a strong Republic, with a semi-modern military. That was because they allowed everyone in, making use of their collective talents and resources to further their organization. I suggest we do something along those lines."

" We have the technology, powered exoskeletal armor, nano-carbide composites, plasma and laser technology, mass produced vehicles and equipment of extremely high quality. Imagine how much further we can go as an organization if we pursue a policy of containment and exploitation, instead of eradication with the tribals. Imagine how far we could truly go if we bring the existing talents and numbers of those on the mainland with our training and technology. We could end up remaking the country for the betterment of man."

The president smacked his hand on the table for emphasis, silencing the whispers and murmurs coming from the Enclave board. "And That gentlemen, will be the goal of this administration and organization going forward."

"There will be no more secrecy, no more huddling in the shadows. We will win gentlemen, and we will take America back, and it all starts here."

The 'core' region of post-apocalyptic america​

 

[Lurken]

Enclave going good?

That President won't last long.

 

[messenger]

Enclave going good?

That President won't last long.

It strikes me more as the old American way of making use of nomads to help fight and exploiting them.
Hardly seems like the Enclave are going good, they are going clever.

Another fantastic update DSVII, I can't wait to see more!

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

It's thrilling. let's see what comes next.

 

[unmerged(244481)]

Lurken Believe me, they'll be anything but good >=D
Messenger Exactly my thoughts, thanks for putting them so clearly in one sentence XD
Kurt Thanks for reading! more to come!

"I can understand where the president is coming from. Shooting first and asking questions later worked well when we had a larger force and no organized enemies, but times are changing. They're talking about the New California Republic being upgraded to an omega level threat. Hell ten years ago, they were nothing but a bunch of run down shacks and farmers with shotguns. Now they're this big assed organized military, while we're splintering into shrinking groups. At this rate, if we don't change course, we'll fall apart or fade away, then we can kiss America goodbye."
- Lieutenant Reginald Archer, Enclave airborne

***​

"Kesler! Prep up and move on the double! We've got muster orders!"

Corporal Kesler looked up in annoyance, putting away the pre-war magazine that he had been quietly enjoying during his break. All across the installation, the intercoms squawked with orders and he heard the heavy pounding of metal boots as his fellow troopers began suiting up.

That quickly got Kesler's attention, for the past few years, active duty usually meant patrolling the base, shuffling paper work and performing combat armor training and weapons drills to keep the men in shape. It was efficient, but it made for a dull repetitiveness that soon made him lose interest in what was going on around him. But to be mustered by the higher ups, and especially with such urgency, usually meant that they were being scrambled for a mission, an honest to god actual mission. The most action the battalion had seen in years was the occasional tribal smugglers or some other non-essential duty, but the urgency of this call up said otherwise.

Power armor was not easy to slip on, being thick enough to pass off for medium grade vehicle armor, but the Enclave scientists somehow managed to find a material that was not only durable, but provided the soldier with an internal power system so that his internal movements within the armor were amplified, allowing him to lift many times his weight. In his case, the actual armor itself. Grabbing his pack and armor on, he rushed towards the barrack door.

Outside, dozens of additional Enclave troopers were gathering as the entire First battalion was being mobilized. Over a hundred power armored troops. There was a brief moment of chaotic milling as troops filed to their positions, it did not take long before all of the men and women were being filed into a meeting room adjacent to the barracks quarter.

"What do you think's happening?" Private Morales, the newie to the squad who just finished basic training, asked.

"Not sure," Corporal Kesler replied. "May have something to do with those damned rebs we've been hearing about at the Juneau checkpoint yesterday."

"Think they're planning something sir?" His eyes lighting up at the prospect of shooting something that wasn't pasted against the wall of the firing range.

"Who knows, but it sure as hell beats sentry duty."

Within seconds, the troops got settled into the conference room, which was originally designed to fit over three hundred occupants pre-war, serving as a briefing room for USAC forces operating out of Alaska. Now, there were plenty of seats for 1st Battalion to sit down and mill about, conversations already buzzing as to where they were going next.

"Battalion! Atten-shun!"

The Enclave troopers instinctively shot to their feet as the sergeants sounded off. Colonel Raff, himself sporting the reinforced Mark II Enclave armor and followed by his staff, entered the room, nodding to the men as he passed.

"At ease gentlemen." The officer spoke, his voice filtered and mechanical through the helmet mike, projecting over the room as he spoke. "I apologize for calling you up on such short notice, and for calling some of you off duty, but we've got a task to do. This comes from General Westmoreland himself."

"As most of you may have heard, there was an incident at Anchorage zone checkpoint zeta. A convoy of food trucks had been hijacked by insurgents who attempted to sneak into our food distribution centres. We have recon units sweeping the area but InOps is suspecting a major insurgent offensive coming in the future. Satellite images show a possible rebel settlement in the ruins of old Juneau. But no confirmation yet."

The Enclave members nodded, the prospect of leading a major raid and assault on tribals excited even the greenest trooper.

"So that's why we are involved. This comes straight from General Westmoreland and the President. They've tapped the first battalion to head the assault, maybe even open up a channel to the mainland."

"The prez knows who gets the job done best." PFC Sibley, a heavy weapons specialist remarked with a sneer.

"I'm having maps of the Juneau region uploaded to your officers, who will relay the telemetry data to your on-helmet HUDs when you touch down. Get your gear and prepare to move out within the next hour. I've authorized the armory master to prepare for a heavy loadout. Who knows what the rebs have planned but I won't let you go unprepared. Dismissed."

Another salute, and the Enclave troops emptied the room, while outside the barracks, the distant roars of aircraft engines filled the air, warming the vehicles up even as the troopers armed themselves for their mission.

The low roar of microfusion powered vertibird engines spread throughout the tarmac, blowing clouds of dust and unsettling anything that wasn't properly secured. Men and women rushed, some in pilots uniforms, others in full grade power armor. Pit crews rushed from vertibird to vertibird, making sure all fuel and munitions were carted.

It was chaotic, it was noisy, but for the men and women of the 101st Airmobile Assault troopers, it felt just like home.

***​

The west Aleutian Islands were initially designed to act as fortified, self-contained bunkers. Able to hold off the impending Communist attack from Asia while buying American forces time to organize their defenses at the Anchorage Front. Having forgotten the lessons of the second great war, where the Americans simply ignored prepared island fortifications and bypassed them completely, supplied by the sea. The Chinese did the same, bypassing the Islands to land straight in Alaska, while sieging the cut off garrisions.

The nuclear attack of 2077 A.D did not strike Alaska, but nonetheless bathed the area in a cloud of deadly radiation. The prepared military bases and garrisons on the islands simply fell silent after the fallout, remaining quiet for over a century. No one had dared send an expedition to the place, quickly earning the old abandoned bases the name of 'Dead Islands', until now that is.

"We've touched ground Colonel, proceeding on your command."

"Excellent work sergeant, advise once you've taken the facility."

Sergeant Kornan, leading a detachment of the 2nd Battalion's strike team, replied. He had a team of eight men, clad in matte-black powered armor. The men moved in complete silence, the usual yellow glow of the mobile power plant back pack covered by a makeshift tarp to avoid detection.

Behind them, more Heavy Enclave assault troops rushed the beaches as the Veritbird touched down on the landing zone. Intending to attract the attention of any unwanted enemies.

Kornan himself was armed with the powerful p98 'Multiplas' plasma rifle, named for the three-pronged barrel that gave it superior stopping power over their laser powered counterparts. However, like the rest of the unit, he kept the rifle slung, using instead a silenced infiltrator assault rifle. He, and five men were armed in a similar fashion, while behind them, were three more troopers, armed with the devastating 'gatling' laser cannons, which were as dangerous as they were loud.

"Anything to report Echo one?"

PFC Orion Moreno, leading a squad of three recon units up front, replied back.

"Nothing to report sir, facilities wide open. We'll hold point until you enter"

"Good, we will be on your position within the minute."

"Affirmative."

***​

The vertibird engines roared, jolting their passengers as the Enclave assault troops watched Unimak Island disappear from view.

"Remember!" Lieutenant Judah Kreger of the 101st airborne shouted above the roar of the vertibird engines. "Any sign of rebs you see, take prisoners if you can, but don't hesitate to blow the brains out of the tribals if you have to! Be efficient people! And don't die! God have mercy on you if you do, because I won't!"

Beneath the enclave trooper helmets, the men smirked.

The pilot intercom started flashing.

"Mainland in range, we're landing in five!"

"OO-rah!" One of the troopers shouted.

Proving once again that he had eyes on the back of his head, Lieutenant Kreger turned to PFC Morales.

"Wipe that smile off your face Private. You're not here to enjoy yourself, but to die for your country, your president and above all, for me!" Kreger shouted above the Vertibird's engine, even as the rest of the troopers chuckled in anticipation.

***​

"Well I'll be damned." Sergant Kornan said silently as he and his men unlocked the blast doors leading into the abandoned US base.

The underground bunkers were dark, covered in ruins of old pre-war tanks amidst the debris of humanity and scraps that had accumulated over two centuries. Bones, dead bodies, both long decayed and fresh, littered the old steel hanger. The corpses were a mixture of soldiers, engineers, and the occasional wastelander and scavengers, some bodies still fresh. Their bloody corpses serving as a grim reminder that there were those that lived beneath the surface who called this place home, and they did not take kindly to intruders.

The metallic sound of steel scrapping and hissing on concrete echoed through the empty chambers, sending sounds for miles around, alerting the inhabitants that there were newcomers onto their territory. Claws and monstrous arms flexed in the darkness, following by a slew of wailing screams and inhuman snarls. Dozens more took up the cry, and from the wreckage, shifting figures, protruding exposed muscle and bone, and tattered clothes sniffed into the darkness, opening their eyes.

They wailed in unison, quickly making their way along the tracks. The sounds of more movement attracted the rest of the inhabitants, eyes glittering with hunger, and their irradiated hearts pumping adrenaline as they eagerly set out to attack.

The Ferals tasted blood.

***​

"Ghouls." Private Moreno said, matter-of-factly. They were mutated creatures that were birthed by the fallout. Former humans who've had their DNA twisted to give them the appearance of a rotting dead corpse, but augmented with heightened senses and strength, and in these poor souls cases, a taste for flesh.

"No need for stealth men, the Colonel wants this place secured and we'll secure it. Advance and purify." Kornan said, disciplined and cold.

"Thought you'd never ask." Moreno said eagerly, as the rest of the squad took firing positions.

Already the voices, raspy screams and hisses of the feral ghouls echoed the darkness, as though surrounding the Enclave troopers from every direction, but all of them knew where to aim.

"Frag out!" One of the corporals yelled, and both Kornan and Moreno immediately pulled the pins off their grenades, one frag, the other plasma, hurling them down range into the ferals with all the extra strength their power armor could afford.

The two grenades landed in the middle of the pack, and within a second, detonated. Flame and green plasma energy filled the narrow Metro line, throwing the thin, decayed bodies of the feral ghouls into the air. The fortunate ones caught in the middle of the blast had their entire bodies instantly disintegrated into bloody sacks of flesh, while others were simply reduced to irradiated plasma puddles.

"Fire at will!"

Moreno took a shot at a Glowing One, the tougher variant of the feral zombies which served as living conduits of radiation. In the darkness of the tunnels, they were the easiest to spot, and the highest priority to take out before they reached the squad.

The air shattered within the tunnels, echoing for miles around as Kornan's rifle literally shattered the head of the glowing one into pieces of jellified flesh. More laser fire erupted from the Enclave line, burning through concrete slabs, ragged armor, and flesh. The ghouls continued onward, oblivious to the pain, or perhaps, having long lost the ability to feel anything.

They fell as they were hit, some losing limbs and heads. But even after they fell, they stumbled and crawled forward. They advanced steadily into the hail of laser and gunfire, eager to satiate their basic need to feed.

"Don't fall back! Advance!" Kornan yelled in grim determination. Moreno pulled out his combat knife, even as he was firing his plasma rifle one handed into the chest of the nearest ghoul. The monster stumbled as the laser fire kick started a chemical reaction in its body, instantly jellifying all the moisture in bones, organs and skin. The ghoul burned a bright green as it fell backwards, reducing itself to plasma slime. Two more roamers attacked, these ones wearing shattered remnants of pre-war combat armor.

Although feral ghouls appeared rotting and malnourished to the outsider, in reality they were quite strong, their heavy radiation poisoning and mutation granting their DNA the ability to regenerate at an alarming rate. This was why they were able to live for centuries, much longer than the lifespan of any human. But this didn't make them any less killable.

Quickly grounding his feet, Moreno took the Ghoul charge head on, dislocating the neck of one of them with a power armored punch to the fist, while the other had a combat knife dug straight into its heart. Another ghoul leapt at Moreno, almost knock him off his feet until an armor piercing round splattered his head to pieces.

He turned to see Sergeant Kornan giving him a wave, infiltrator carbine in his hand, before aiming for the next glowing one.

The dark bunker hanger lit up in a brilliant flash of red and green, as Enclave troopers fired plasma rounds with laser blasts, which scythed down more ghouls, burning a hole through three in succession.

Another ghoul crawled forward towards Kornan, this one's body completely severed from the hips up. It dragged itself towards its prey, intent on feeding to the very end of its life. It had been a woman, once, still wearing the tattered remains of a pre-war dress. Lord knows how long she had to live down here like this. Decades…centuries even.

His face softened under his helmet as he saw the ghoul, and watched as it dragged its eviscerated guts along the floor in some vain attempt to feed on them.

He stepped forward, unholstering his plasma pistol and aiming it straight for the malnournished ghouls face, even as it reached out pitifully towards him.

He pulled the trigger, blasting the brains out of its skull.

More sounds, fire and laser filled the tunnels, piling up more bodies as the ghouls finally backed off from their prey. The armored ones had proven too difficult to kill, to consume. They would break off for now, and search for easier prey, weaker ones who wandered in the other parts of the metro, after all, the pack still needed blood. What they didn't know, was that more Enclave troopers had already infiltrated the bunker, and they would be wiped clean.

A silence soon filled the tunnels, along with the bodies of the ferals, which now carpeted the floor.

"Colonel," Sergeant Kornan activated his radio. "Dead Islands are secure."

"Excellent, I'll have the engineering teams sent, who knows what kind of equipment we can find here."

***

President Richardson watched with satisfaction as the reports filled in. By tomorrow, he would have his men salvaging the long range communication arrays in the Aleutians, while the rebel threat in Juneau would be dealt with.

He watched quietly from his bunker, the events of the world outside, the stage was set for the next phase of his plan.

"Mister Bird?" President Richardson tapped a button on his command console, bringing up the Enclave Diplomatic advisor.

"Yes sir?" The Enclave director replied from the intercom.

"Have we received word from the Valdez yet?"

"Yes, they're expected to make a landing at Navarro by tomorrow."

Richardson smiled at that comment. "Excellent, please keep me posted. And be so kind as to bring up Dr. Schreber for me, I wish to discuss his project with him."

"As you wish Mister President."

***

Enclave InOps - Recon and threat assessment - The wasteland

​

The Wasteland or "Wastes" describes the majority of the current United States' post-nuclear environment. Although scouting missions outside the continent are impossible due to the limited resources at hand, there is an extremely high probability that the rest of the world's continents, affected similarly by the nuclear fallout, have suffered the same consequences.

The initial two hour nuclear exchange had literally changed the face of the Earth, with no other clear comparison except for the meteor that wiped out of the dinosaurs. Plant and animal life died in great numbers, almost to the point of extinction, although many surviving species were mutated by the resultant radiation. Mutated animals are considered extremely deadly and extermination is advisible.

To add to many of the problems humanity must face, almost all water is irradiated. The surface of the Earth and its atmosphere were likewise scarred and changed by the catastrophe, weather seems to have altered as well; rather than experiencing the normal four seasons, with weather conditions such as snow and rain, several areas of the United States seems to have permanently settled into the state of a semi-arid desert.

The long term effect of such a climate on the local populations, as well as the longevity of this new environment, can only be speculated.

***​

Enclave Science Division - Research and Development - Infantry

Subject: Advanced Power Armor Mark 2

​

Abstract:
One of the only post-war designs, the Advanced Power Armor (APA) was created by the skilled team of engineers and scientists after the Great War in conjunction with funds from Poseidan energy, as a result of a research program initiated in 2198, part of a larger project to develop various technologies. In 2215 the first actually superior suit is manufactured, entering service in 2220. Various accidents/explosions/deaths involved in its creation are classified by order of Former Enclave's President Dick Richardson for the sake of the morale of the Enclave's personnel.

It is composed of lightweight metal alloys, reinforced with ceramic castings at key stress points. The motion-assist servo-motors used in the armor appear to be high quality models as well, giving the wearer increased strength. The heavy appearance, largely a product of the power supply and internal gyro, gives the suit its 'hunched' appearance even when upright.

The suit also has an auto-gyro system to keep it upright and the knees can be locked in position, to prevent the wearer from falling over, if, for some reason, he loses consciousness on duty (e.g. takes a nap). Additionally, like the T-51b Power Armor, it includes a recycling system that can convert human waste into drinkable water, enhancing survival.

Like its older brother, the Mk II version is matte black with a menacing appearance, but with a few significant differences. It is composed entirely of lightweight ceramic composites rather than the usual combination of metal and ceramic plates, with a back-mounted power pack, instead of the built-in ventilated power unit of its predecessor, giving it a yellow glow of the portable power plant's visible fan on its back.

 

[Timmie0307]

Awesome

 

[messenger]

Would it be wierd to say I'm in love?
But seriously, this is amazing, keep writing this genius material out and spread the glory of Fallout to the world brother.

 

[Viden]

Suscribed!

 

[Ksim3000]

Good AAR you've got going here! Very nicely written! Looking forward to the next part!

 

[soulking]

I agree, it is extremely detailed. However, I'd suggest that there be more pictures - but that's just my opinion.

 

[SwordOfJustice]

More! More!

- Sword

 

[Mr. Santiago]

Subscribed!

 

[unmerged(247551)]

This is just plain great.

Btw, be aware of that silly ZAX computer. It might develop ambitions

 

[Aliasing]

Been waiting for this to hit the Paradox Forums

 

[unmerged(244481)]

"America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves." - Abraham Lincoln

Juneau
​

Fighting a vendetta war against a fascist, pre-war military organization required more than just winning hearts and minds, but also food and weapons, and despite the fractured, decentralized nature of the organization, The Cause was not easy to sustain.

Although they had access to more manpower due to the stream of refugees and tribals that wandered the wastelands, providing and protecting them required supplies and weapons, and though they had managed to dig up and scavenge most of the supply depots and vaults in the Northwest, it didn't change the fact that in a world where the nations' industrial capacity was wiped out by nuclear war, they had a finite number of resources, which was barely bolstered by salvage and hidden weapons caches.

Over the years, the descendants of the Canadian rebels who had overrun the government vaults of occupied Canada had steadily consumed the resources and supplies of the fallout shelters, weapons and ammunition (and more importantly) food and water was becoming harder and harder to find. This, combined with the growing population of refugees and wanderers, gave the Cause a need to expand, waging a perpetual war against the Enclave, in a vendetta that stretched almost a hundred and fifty years.

The very lack of resources that had been plaguing the rebels was what gave Abel the idea of attacking the Enclave food supplies. With all the vaults from the Yukon down to Oregon cleared, and the ruins of the cities salvaged to their bare bones, they were the only source of food and weapons available in the wastes, the fact that they were ideological enemies made stealing from them much easier on his conscience. After all, these were the monsters that wiped out his ancestor's country, and just recently, tried to kill every living soul on the west coast with a biological weapon.

Abel watched with quiet pride as the men and women of the cause began the process of distributing supplies to the refugees in camp. Women and children in ragged clothes, infirmed or injured soldiers happily accepted the food and water the rebel soldiers gave them, all of them ill begotten gains from Enclave camps that weren't alert enough to anticipate their raids. Over the past few years, Abel and his crew had led several such raids, making allies with those who would love to see the Enclave and all they stood for burn to the ground.

The outpost itself was a relatively unassuming structure, partially hidden within the ruins of old Juneau, a once bustling city that served as a transport hub to the Juneau front, and thus, was stocked with plenty of pre-war weaponry and supplies to allow the Cause to operate so far north. North of the 49th parallel, it was one of the few bastions of humanity and refuge. No raiders or slavers had dared attack the outpost, knowing full well what the price would be if they crossed the most powerful paramilitary and philantropic army in the area.

The freedom fighters themselves were a ragtag bunch, composed of tribals, former soldiers and Brotherhood of Steel paladins. While some were even super mutants, tall, bulky and muscular green-skinned humans who were products of an old government experimental virus, the F.E.V. Discriminated and hated in the American Southwest, some fled to the north, to the cold ice wastes of Canada hoping to find refuge. The Cause welcomed all without discrimination.

Abel saw the value in having these bulky mutants as shock troopers, more importantly, some had lived for a long time, bringing with them a century's worth of battlefield experience and technical expertise.

"We're almost finished with the supplies Abel."

Abel, his concentration broken by the voice of his second in command, nodded.

"Good work Chandra, once we're done here, we'll pull back to the Vault for the winter. The refugees here will be fine additions to the cause." Abel replied warmly.

"You still sure about the super mutants Abel?" The rebel captain said uneasily, having heard too many rumors from refugees from the south about the cruelties of the green monsters. Although some of the stories were no doubt exaggerated, it nonetheless made her uneasy knowing that they would live next to them.

"Of course. The Cause accepts all, it's how we've always been, it's how we've survived."

"But they're stronger than us." She said uneasily, "they're not even human, how can we trust them so soon?"

"They are stronger than us, that is true, but that isn't what we're about. We're not fighting for equality Chandra, no two things are equal on this earth, not a leaf or tree. What we're fighting for, is an equal chance. I would not deny an equal chance to those seeking refuge among us, besides, they are just looking for a place to live peacefully, isn't that what we are aiming for in the end?"

"I suppose sir." She said, though hardly convinced, but decided it was best to not argue with her commander on the eve of their great victory.

Abel shook his head, patting his subordinate on the back. "Now enough of this chatting, gather the men and make the preparations, tonight, we are going to celebrate!"

***​

The Juneau outpost resembled a bazaar of old times, hundreds of refugees, traders, soldiers of different races, creeds and occupations huddled together, protected in their safe haven in the wastes. Former Brotherhood of Steel soldiers, super mutants, even mercenaries knew of Juneau as a place to find shelter and food. It was a true paradise in one sense, there was no discrimination, all hatreds and prejudices vanished with the equality of suffering. Though it was safer than the outside world, it did not change the fact that this was still the wasteland, where death was such a constant companion that, often it became routine.

Narcotic additions, physical deformities, mutations, age, sex, religion meant nothing, while actions spoke for everyone.

Caleb downed a pint next to a super mutant, both downing their drinks within seconds, having put forth a bet that any normal human could outdrink their bulkier counterparts two to one. The assembled freedom fighters cheered, raising their glasses. Most of the soldiers resembled ragtag militia with impromptu armor and fatigues.

The bartender, a balding heavyset man, opened up another crate of captured supplies. The successful raids of the past months had been a great boon to the Cause, and most importantly, to the liquor store. Though one truck convoy ambush had failed, several more succeeded, bringing a steady stream of supplies to the previously starving refugees.

"A toast!" Caleb, the veteran sharpshooter, roared drunkenly "to living beyond mere survival!"

"To living!" The group shouted, clinking glasses and downing drinks.

***
​

On the outskirts of old Juneau, away from all the celebrations, several dozen vigilant militia stood guard at the outpost edges. With the Enclave reeling back from the recent attacks, they were on high alert, armed to the teeth with pre-war assault rifles.

Squad leader Harvings plopped back on the folding camp chair they had salvaged from a pre-war department store, humming to himself as he and his squad of thirty other men kept a watch on the distant horizon.

The peaceful, dull moment was soon broken however.

"Guys!" Private Ryan, the newbie in the outfit, shouted, gasping, as he ran to the outpost. "You're not going to believe what I found-"

"Calm down soldier," Harvings interrupted. "You want to wake every damn Yao Guai and mutated beast in the area?"

The private composed himself, clearing his throat.

"Sorry, I just...found something new while scavenging."

"What is that private?"

"Dunno, I've...never seen anything like it."

"You found some porn then kid?" One of the veterans burst out laughing, while the private's face ran red.

"Not sure, some kinda tech maybe?" The kid reached into his back pocket, pulling out an electronic device of some sort. A small circular ball with a glowing red light on it. Before Sergeant Harvings could even react, a pair of neat holes were punched in his face. One through his nasal cavity, another through his eyes. Two thin lines of blood trickled down from his face, and the man collapsed on his feet.

The private, and several of the nearby militia were soon down as well, suffering the same fates.

A column of black figures moved past, their armor blending in with the dark treeline. One of the armored figures tapped a button on the side of his helmet.

"Sentries neutralized, proceeding with the mission."

"Oracle two three one on site, proceeding to target."

The covert ops team then backed away into the darkness, far enough to be out of range of what was approaching the unfortunate town of Juneau.

Enclave Archives - Background of Current Conflict - Resource wars

Though the Great War ended the world as we knew it, it was in all actuality the zenith of a much longer series of events that had been culminating for many, many decades. Human greed, as usual, was the real fuel for the fires, and the origins of the events of the twenty-first century could be traced back to the beginnings of the industrial age, when men first addicted themselves to the power and advances brought on by combustible technology.

Eventually, the fuel began to run out. It was inevitable, but nobody wanted to acknowledge that it would happen until it was so patently obvious that pragmatism became the only realistic policy. In 2052, the Resource Wars began when the European Commonwealth invaded the Middle East in response to rapidly climbing oil prices. The U.N. quickly began to fracture, and in the same year it disbanded amongst turmoil and conflict between its member states.

In the following years a series of nuclear exchanges in the Middle East heightened world awareness (and fear) of the possibility of atomic warfare in the near future, and the vault program was jump-started in America, with huge amounts of money invested in the project. As the US Military set up a front line in Alaska to protect its vital pipelines, pressure was exerted on Canada to allow the military to cross its borders in order to guard the Canadian segments of the line. In 2060, conflict in the Middle East ended as the last of the oil there simply dried up. The Commonwealth immediately dissolved into bickering nation-states, its main raison d'être having disappeared.

In 2066, China invaded Alaska. This marked the end of an era of the United States and the East Bloc focusing on subterfuge to gain the upper hand as the military prowess of both sides were brought to bear upon one another instead. Canada showed some reluctance in allowing the American troops to pass over its borders, but was eventually swayed to do so. As the battle raged on the Alaskan Front Line, the first suits of Power Armor were deployed against the Chinese, and proved remarkably effective at cutting down anything thrown in their path.

By 2072, American had begun to gobble up Canadian resources in an effort to fuel the war efforts. Protests and riots began in many Canadian cities, and attempted sabotage on the Alaskan pipeline was the only excuse America needed to begin an annexation of Canada itself. China began to become increasingly aggressive with its use of biological weapons at around this time, and the Pan-Immunity Virion Project was begun as a countermeasure.

In 2074, negotiations between the United States and all other world powers came to an abrupt end as the US claimed that the last oil reserves on the planet would be used exclusively by America. While up until this point the US had vowed to take a strictly defensive stance (such as in Alaska), Power Armor units were soon dispatched to the Chinese mainland and began to carve their way through the Chinese resistance there. Canada was completely and finally annexed by 2076. Protesters and rioters were executed on sight.

By 2077, Alaska was reclaimed, China's supply lines and resources were quickly breaking down, and the war was coming to a close. Despite this there was increasing unrest in the United States, and Power Armor units found themselves being used for domestic crowd control, with hundreds of American casualties resulting. The US government, poised for an imminent nuclear or biological strike from the fractured Chinese forces, retreated to safety.

On October 23rd, the Great War began.

The nuclear exchange that characterized the Great War lasted for only a brief two hours, but was unbelievably destructive and reshaped the climate of the world even as it caused the fall of most of human civilization everywhere across the globe. More energy was released in the first moments of the Great War than all of the previous human conflicts in the history of the world combined. Entire mountain ranges were created as the ground buckled and moved under the strain of the cataclysmic pressure produced by numerous, concentrated atomic explosions. Rivers and oceans around the world were contaminated with the resulting radioactive fallout released by the relatively low-yield nuclear weapons used by all sides, and the climate changed horrifically. All the regions of the Earth suffered from a single, permanent season once the initial dust blasted into the atmosphere by the nuclear explosions had settled - a scorching, radioactive desert summer.



Enclave Military Archive - Infantry - Airmobile Assault Troopers

The processes of an increasing of international tension occurring in the world prompted the US military-political leadership to advance new concepts for employing troopers in possible armed conflicts. In the prior war, paratroopers were the preferred method of deployment, allowing platoons of troops to be dropped behind enemy lines and disrupt enemy supply lines and operations. With the advent of nuclear winter, and the disorganized, fractured nature of enemy forces, another method for quick rapid assault tactics had to be developed.

To that end, Enclave command increased the mobility of this branch of the armed forces by further developing the rapid deployment of airmobile forces. Heavily armored shock troopers transported in by high mobile VB-02 Vertibirds. In the opinion of military specialists, their principal advantages are high mobility, employment both in the defense as well as in the offensive on main axes and flanks of operating force groupings, the capability of covering considerable distances at a higher speed than mechanized and armored troops regardless of terrain relief and natural and manmade obstacles, and so on.

Among the primary missions to be accomplished by the Rapid Deployment Force are covering troops on the most threatened axes in case of a surprise enemy attack and conducting delaying actions to support the deployment and commitment of armored and mechanized formations of ground forces. In addition, it is proposed to employ them to capture operationally or tactically important terrain areas, establish bridgeheads for an assault crossing of major water obstacles, take mountain passes and defiles, and occupy and subsequently hold or destroy transportation hubs. It is also planned to drop airmobile units or subunits into the enemy rear to perform the following missions: disorganize command and control and disrupt its operation; destroy or demolish enemy rear lines of communication; and assist troops operating from the front. To perform these missions airmobile formations, units and subunits must have sufficient operational and tactical independence and the capability of conducting combat operations in isolation from the main body.​

 

[unmerged(244481)]

Aliasing: Thanks Aliasing, hope you enjoy!

LeCare Glad to have you on board Ah yes, those silly computers, next thing you'll know they'll claim to be the president of the united states

Mr. Santiago Thanks!

SwordOfJustice: As you wish!

soulking Yup, more pictures will come in future updates, though i am experimenting with a more descriptive style to see if it can help replace needing pics, i'm just lazy in that department when it comes to taking screenies

Ksim3000 Thanks Ksim!

Viden Thank you sir

messenger haha glad you're enjoying this, this update was shorter than what i'd hope but next chappy will be more actiony.

Timmie0307 Thanks dude!

 

[messenger]

I like how you are doing it, if you put images to the descriptions it makes them void as we draw our conclusion from the visual not the prose.
Another excellent chapter, was certainly worth the wait although I wouldn't be upset if you did another update right now .