2198 FOT APA MK II, 2220 APA MKII COMPLETED FO2?, 2235 DEATHCLAW RESEARCH, 2241 CONTROL STATION ENCLAVE DESTROYED, 2246 ENCLAVE BROTHERHOOD WAR
Emergency Vertibird Refueling Station; Somewhere outside D.C.
"And so what you're saying, Commander. Is that this so-called Vault Zero Project has been successfully recovered? All assets moved into the hands of the Enclave and all remains…dealt with." A dark figure skimmed the edge of the rectangular oak table, where some dozen Enclave Officers sat in a cloud of cigar smoke. A large halo light illuminated the surface of the table, but not much else.
It had been over 50 years since the recovery was made; with little or no knowledge of it being made public. Long years spent on the run from NCR and Brotherhood of Steel in hot pursuit. Here sat a contingent of West Coast Remnants, ready to be welcomed home by their East Coast Command.
"Sir. It has been confirmed. Evidence was planted at the recovery site and falsified reports made. All hands point to an unknown origin, something…inorganic. Our plans to move forward here in the East can continue."
"Bring me up to speed." Said one of the Remnants, still wearing the outdated advanced power armor, so iconic in the west, as it was the epitome of law, and justice.
There was a shuffling of papers, as the officers readjusted their positions and glanced around at one another. Like the final hand in a poker game, no one was ready to reveal their own hand in the matter; that of how this project had been covered up for so long. Of how such a technology had almost ended up in a misguided Brotherhood of Steel encounter out in some desolate place like Chicago, a place they shouldn't have been in the first place.
"As well as you know, it was mainly a testing ground for our now refurbished Mark Two Advanced Power Armor. Which has now been in service almost two decades. With no design drawbacks. Only to be superseded by the new Hellfire Power Armor, nearly finished at Adams Airforce Base, as we speak. The duraframe material has exceeded our expectations. So much so that the E-Dee project has been canceled all together in light of this new progress." A steely haired man took a sip of water from a glass and set it precariously on the edge of the table, before refilling it.
"Ahem..As I was saying…"
"You mean to say that our station in Colorado was correct? That there was an attempt to intercept and recover our plans for the new mark two? That these…sub-form denizens nearly succeeded in capturing the means to upgrade their OWN armors?"
"Yes. That is correct. Lieutenant. Our encounters and interrogations with the rouge Brotherhood of Steel members near St. Louis has indicated that they posses the means to manufacture and repair a wide array of robotics. And are getting very proficient at it. Yet do not possess any way to manufacture NEW armors, as such as the Base Crawler, or Site 'R'. Be thankful for that. However…" The man looked around and put a lit cigar back in his mouth, pacing slowly to the window and splitting the shades to see the refueling of the fleet in action.
Ours is but a dread not seen coming. He thought.
"…Yes Captain?"
"Our scans show some hot spots in the old department of defense building, D.C. This is all backed up by our superiors at Site R. I'm sure they will shed some light on the situation, once we arrive there." Said the Captain, a sigh not audible escaping his mouth. Finally some respite.
"Negative. We are to relocate directly to the Satellite Relay Station. From there the auxiliary troops will move on foot en route to SatCom, nu-upsilon, oh-seven-Chi." Came a complaint. A voice so dry, showing not a trace of compassion, of remorse, or noting how long this journey had been in the first place.
"You would dare throw orders in the face of President John Henry Eden, of Colonel Autumn? We are to report back immediately to Site R. There will be no further discussion on the matter. Or shall I call him right now to-"
There was a sudden shockwave felt throughout the room as the sound of a 14mm pistol was fired directly into the air. Hardly a person shuddered.
"Lock it down Captain. I'm senior officer, I am giving the orders. This was just a formality. This unit is to to be folded into MY command. They've come here the same as everyone else." The man holstered the pistol as two sentries came into the room.
"We heard small arms fire. Everything O.K. sir?" one of the armored men said.
"Everything is fine. Notify me when we are ready to lift off."
"Roger."
The man looked back at the Captain. The table of officers was silent, a few choking on the smoke in the room, which had started to dissipate. The Captain stared back at the commanding officer; his lean figure was tucked in a freshly pressed suit. He was abnormally…normal. Dark hair, eyes…yet something seemed cold, calculating about his presence.
"You take the unit to the Satellite Relay Station and wait for further instructions. I will then accompany the rest of the unit to the Sat-Com Array."
"Sir. Now…About the situation here." Said one of the Remnants, adjusting more comfortably in his chair.
The Lieutenant stood and filled in for the Major.
"We have on record showing you have a total of twenty Vertibirds on standby. Accompanied by seventy shocktroops, forty scientists, forty engineers and onboard cargo." He looked to the Major who bade him to continue. "The shock troops are to be dispersed on a as-needed basis. Scientists will more than likely be brought back to telemetrics and deathclaw recovery programme. Welcome to your new home, Sir."
"We are a progressive family." The Captain cut in. "You have done good things for us by making it to the new home of the Enclave. It's too bad we've lost so much over the years. We may have lost our influence in the West. Yet our true home was always here, within the confines of the old world, where it all began. Here on the East Coast."
The Remnants grinned, silently. It sounded like words of a coward, beat-down and left limping home. Yet somehow rang true. Washington D.C. New York. Boston. Philadelphia. Names all but lost, when their great-grandparents still knew the tall presence those name brought. And now, thanks to the Enclave, might still endure.
"We staff nearly one thousand personal at the moment. As you can imagine, resources are tied up. There are talks however of this Water purification unit at the Jefferson Memorial. However…" The Captain was shaking his head slowly at the lieutenant, slightly covering his mouth with one of his hands. "…However our scouts report nothing definitive and that the unit must be broken."
"Let me get this straight…" A remnant stood, tilted his head slightly at the Major. "We have the means to manufacture new advanced power armor. New Weapons. New materials, even…We have all this. We've come so far away from our home in the West, to this…Capitol Wasteland. And for what?!" He slammed his fist down in the air as the other remnants rose to their feet, the sound of energy weapons buzzing to life. "You mean to say, we don't even posses a G.E.C.K.?"
"Negative. But there is one in Vault 87." Said the Major, nonchalantly.
"And why haven't we recovered it?"
"Vault 87 is so irradiated at its core, it would melt even our Mark Two. It is why we have endeavored with the Hellfire prototype. We believe it can withstand such levels of radiation. But until the project is completed, we have no means to retrieve it."
"Excuse me Major." He signaled his men to stand-down. "It has been a long trip to make. What you see before you is sadly one of the largest units left standing after the wars. I was twenty two when the Rig was blown up. Thirty seven when the Brotherhood and NCR attacked Navarro. I'm now forty seven. My unit is mostly men younger than me, but no less loyal. Our families have carried on the traditions, yet when we finally had the means to make it here, we knew it was our destiny." The man sat back down and relit his cigar. The Captain reached over and poured him a glass of water.
"We know it has been a long journey. But we have the means to reclaim this place." He leaned towards the Major. "Sounds like he's gone tribal, doesn't he?"
The Major only grinned, his face expressionless, which hid his hatred of this place, this situation.
"It was your duty." Came the words of the Major.
"Yes sir. That's what I had meant."
"Now. Back to the matters at hand. The Mark Two has improved audio sensors able to scan a wide range of ultra low, high, and able to pick up all radio freq.'s, relaying them back on visual sensors mounted in the eyepiece…" The Lieutenant continued to read from memory, all of the specifications of the new suit, a feat, that was a mainstay to survival.
The men listened to the Lietenant; their heads cocked and and eyes turned up in fascination. Only the Captain hung his head, slowly letting the information be imbibed to his very soul; the means to control this very slab of civilization, for the betterment of the life organism as a whole.