Astonishing Tales of Appalachia

From Antietam to Anchorage, Americans have fought. From our nation's very birth. These are the stories of two Enclave leaders who will fight a new war for our nation. A war for survival, a war for territory, for men's hearts, a war for their own souls. The enemies, allies, resources, and tactics are all vastly different from their military and intelligence backgrounds. However... War. War never changes.

"We make war that we may live in peace"

-Aristotle

"Facta Non Verba"

Deeds, Not Words

Motto for Enclave SOG Zero.

(Special Operations Group, Command Division)

CHAPTER ONE

"Do you think we might be living a little too comfortably?" Colonel James Valdor questioned as he thumbed the controls on his flat black Pip-Boy, analyzing the map to plan potential operations.

"Says the man with his feet up, sipping bourbon out of a glass." His second-in-command and friend John O'Connor responded without looking as he turned their recent kill on the grill, hoping the smirk was assumed.

"Fair enough, but my point about being out in the open is still valid even though I'm classier than you." James retorted pointing his glass at him, looking away from his Pip-Boy to pull a preserved Marlboro Red from the vault out of his silver case. (He stocked up on his favorite brand as international tensions progressed and he was contacted by the Enclave and Vault-Tec, God forbid he face nuclear apocalypse without smokes.)

"You may want to wait to light that." John said gravely, looking up from his task. When he was in the CIA they'd outfitted him with a couple of the newest implants, one of them slightly increasing his hearing, the other slightly increased his reflexes. This allowed him to hear the distant but recognizable sound of Power Armor servos operating like they were in a sprint.

"I hear Power Armor for sure, sounds like one suit but it's getting closer and he could always have more quiet backup." John continued, James let out an exasperated sigh and finished his stout drink of straight whiskey, put the Red back in it's case, and hopped out of his lounging spot on the deck of their hideout towards his armor and weapons. John walked into the house to pull on combat armor under his leather duster, and came walking out of checking the cylinder on his 44.

"What's the play?" Sergeant O'Connor asked as he holstered his weapon and begin scouting the perimeter of the lumber mill that concealed their camp with binoculars.

"Well, I suppose you make contact down the hill closer the mill. Once he thinks he's safe and he's the threat, we're in the best position. I figure if he's got malicious intentions I jump down and we both fill him full of some Pennsylvania lead." The Colonel explained as he inserted a fusion core into his T-60 Power Armor, painted also a dark concealing black. He picked up his MG42 prepared to go to war, acclimating himself to the familiar feelings of power and claustrophobia power armor induces.

"Sounds good, see ya down there." John responded, grabbing his combat rifle leaned up against their home as he exited the gate. Time to go to work. He thought.


Giant sentry bots. I bet no one will walk towards the mill if I put sentry bots out there on the road.' John plotted in his head as he casually moseyed down to the mill holding his rifle down by his leg, not wanting any scouting eyes to perceive any kind of rushed fear on their part. The colonel was making his way around in his armor to the top of the tallest structure, a large metal warehouse filled with unprocessed cut-down tree trunks. Surrounded by trees covered in a Virginia holler he'd have plenty of concealment, ready to pounce on anyone who meant them harm. Sergeant O'Connor could see a fully armored stranger approaching, equipped with what looked to be like some kind of energy weapon. He was at distance but he certainly didn't see much aggression in his movements, but the Enclave NCO was full of skepticism regarding him being alone. He heard a short put high pitched whistle indicating his superior was in place.


John had leaned his rifle up against some thick logs outside the building James was set, sitting against them he sent a casual wave of two fingers toward the oncoming soldier. The unknown in power armor seemed to be alone, holding a laser rifle casually. "My name is Knight Captain Garcia, I've obtained intelligence that Enclave representatives who originated from Vault 76 reside here." A projected voice spoke as he approached, his informed line of questioning causing O'Connor to move his arms from a crossed setting to placing a hand on his revolver. He also recognized the Brotherhood of Steel insignia on his chest plate. "We intend no harm if you are them, we only wish to propose-" The weary vet finally chose to speak to interrupt, not removing his hand from his weapon but tightening the grip on it.

"Them? How would you know there's more than just me here if this is friendly?" John questioned, his eyes leering before the steel giant. The expression that accompanies being caught in a lie was replaced by silence from the stoic face of Garcia's T-51 helmet, before he caught a slight shimmer of a stealth boy movement directly in front of him to his right. No longer willing to take chances, he set the party into full swing. Cocking his weapon and moving his finger inside his holster, he pulled the gun without removing it so it was faced away from his body and fired into the ground. This was the signal that prompted Colonel James Valdor to leap from his previous position, landing between his comrade and his equally defended adversary. Before Garcia and his stealthy friend could realize they were prey rather than predator, James unloaded a volley of ammunition directly into his chest causing him to stagger and drop his weapon. John drew his pistol and set his gaze toward where he thought the other one was and fired hopefully, seeing a quick shift of dirt that indicated movement. He fired a second time and determined he'd struck meat because he heard a woman howl. Before Garcia or the woman could recover, James dropped his weapon and charged his opponent, shoulder checking him to his back and placing a large metal hoof on top of him to restrain his movement. John saw blood drip directly in front of him and reached out with his left hand praying to grab something.

"HOW ABOUT EVERYONE CALM THE FUCK DOWN." The Colonel bellowed through his audio system, as John fortunately grabbed the throat of his assailant causing the stealth field to dissipate. It revealed a blonde women in her 30's in brotherhood fatigues wielding a rather sharp combat knife in the hand he hadn't already shot. Out of the fear of being stabbed he instinctively flung the barrel of his pistol toward her temple, dropping her unconcious in her tracks as he let go of her. After a deep breath he knelled down to assess her wounds, he stabbed the loose skin in her injured arm with a stim-pack and depressed the medicine into her.

"That man is a Swiss army knife, you know." James continued more calmly. "He will fix her up, build us defenses and program robots and man he's a crack shot with that pistol." He increased the pressure being placed on Garcia. "But he really doesn't like when people try to stab him. So your answers to our questions depend on whether I tell him to save her or shoot her." He informed menacingly, upset their first contact with the Brotherhood started with foul play.