"We poison our air and water to weed out the weak! We set off fission bombs in our only biosphere! We nailed our God to a stick! Don't fuck with the human race!" - Someone from the Internet.

Jensen awoke for the thousandth time that minute, and was immediately subsumed beneath the consciousness of the thing he was now a thrall of. Slick tentacles wove their way through his mind, grasping and destroying however they pleased. All that was Jensen was becoming part of The Master.

Jensen's flesh had been separated from the mechanisms that kept him alive before, his organics melded into the mass of The Master. His resistance had been futile, his hatred nothing compared to the pain The Master could give.

Jensen was, and is, dead.

The President was busier than he had been for months.

His return had been heralded by parades and fanfare, the two Americas rejoicing at their Re-unification. Deals had been set up, plans made and territory tentatively allocated. Alaska was a boon greater than simply territory or supplies, it was hope. Hope that the embers of Old America still burned elsewhere in it's ashes, Hope that there were still good people beyond their new borders, and Hope that even though Humanity had fallen, it could still raise itself back up.

He finally returned to the Oil Rig, and found that there was even more good news. His armed forces were now exclusively outfitted in the new, more Advanced Power Armor he had been show a few months before. The lasrifles were in full production, with conventional weaponry soon to be completely replaced in the Military, and the pipeline to Canada was running once again, allowing limited civilian flight.

Then he reached the bottom of his stack.

Jensen had been MIA for nearly a month, the colonization efforts were being slowed by a combination of Raiders and the so-called "Super Mutants", and a shipping boat had washed up with a large chunk taken out of it. Their best guess at it was a bite, though no pre-war animal could've done it.

Still, things seemed on the rise, and so he set about calling his advisors once again.

(Next section is B.O.S, then the old enclave, in case it is unclear)

"Scribe"

"Elder"

"What is it that you have to report?"

"Well sir, the council has been in contact again"

"And?"

"They're offering to allow us to expand to some of their bases in the Midwest"

"What do they want in return?"

"They want us to use the resources to fight the "New America""

"Send them a message back"

"That being?"

"We accept."

"They've accepted"

"I knew they would."

"Are we sure we want to give them this much power?"

"They're nothing."

"We thought that about the west coasters as well"

"You thought that"

"Whatever. Anyway, what if the Brotherhood does win?"

"The brotherhood can't win"

"Then why are we helping them?"

"Is it really helping, if all we do is use them as a shield?"

"I suppose not, but they could still betray us. They could join the others."

"They're too proud for that. Trust me"

"Alright. But if this blows up on us.."

"It won't. Now onto the plans for Germany..."

Back in the President's office, he was reviewing the colonization efforts, successful and not.

Two (very) small towns had been found, and re-integrated with the New America. These were called Klamath, and Modoc. Both were to provide plants and livestock.

Vault 8 had actually taken the initiative when they heard that the President was alive, and founded a city with their G.E.C.K. This was (completely imaginatively) called Vault city.

A mining town from by the name of Redding was re-founded, and it's gold mine was soon to be operational.

Reno was renamed New Reno, continuing the trend of terrible names, and it's casinos and other "attractions" were re-opened. The first post-war company was founded here as well- New Reno Arms- and would provide obsolete military firearms to Civilians as long as they agreed to registry.

San-Francisco was now being rebuilt, many of it's skyscrapers still standing despite the damage.

Finally on the list of successful acquisitions (the notable ones, anyway. there were thousands of suburban developments that were simply allocated no name, and small desert towns with nothing of value). Was Vault 13, whose dwellers decided to go the route of Vault 8 and found their own city- Arroyo (after the only citizen to die in the vault).

Then the list of failures.

Sacramento was filled with raiders calling themselves "The 80s". So many, in fact, that a full squad of enclave troopers had been lost to them. Low estimates put them at a few hundred, high at nearly a thousand.

Mariposa was a blank spot on the map, Jensen having never returned, and all soldiers sent there either babbling incoherently or ripped limb from limb and left for scouts to find.

In fact, all expeditions south of San-Francisco had the same results as nearing Mariposa.

Past Vault 13, the soldiers were routinely attacked by people wearing the old T-51b armor, and while there were few casualties from this (compared to other fronts), armored vehicles had been seen alongside the power armored troops. Old Humvees and Main Battle Tanks mainly. Attempts to contact them had been fruitless, and normally resulted in at least one trooper being lightly wounded before the others left.

The North was claimed by right of treaty, and the east and south were extremely hostile. Something needed to break or the New America would be smothered to death in it's infancy.

Luckily for them, they had Vertibirds.

Two hours later, troops were mobilizing, planes were fuelling and 'birds were warming up their fusion engines.

It had been decided that there would be a single assault to solidify American power on the west coast- every asset, every soldier, vehicle, and ship not needed for critical defense.

The plan was to take Mariposa, and then create an outpost at the "Lost Hills" bunker.

The attack was to happen at dawn.

They shelled it from air at first, planes delivering what few bombs remained that were non-nuclear.

Mutants died and holes were blasted into the ground, but Mariposa was created to withstand much more powerful weaponry. Even a nuclear strike was unlikely to harm it.

So the soldiers came, riding in Vertibirds and dropping from the sky what few mutants remained outdoors dying under a hail of fire from the dropping soldiers and their transports.

A beachhead was established outside the main entrance, heavy weapons were emplaced around the doors, and the soldiers prepared to breach the center of mutant kind,though they were unaware of it's importance.

Then the doors flung themselves open and mutants poured out into the newly established defenses, their corpses covering the guns meant to kill them. A vicious melee was joined, power armored bodies crumpling under sledgehammer blows, and mutant dying from what few shots the soldiers were able to get off. Screams of victory and fear resounded through the battlefield, and any onlookers would be unable to tell which side was wining if they had tried.

Then came Squad Sigma. Each soldier armed with the new Plasma rifle, and a power fist. They were a whirlwind of death, dropping directly into the center of combat and killing any mutant who came near. Soldiers were saved, mutants were killed, and the tide turned in favor of the Americans.

Until a great roar shattered the field.

A mutant larger than any seen before came out of Mariposa's cargo bay, and with it's arrival nearly shattered the American morale. Sigma fired at it first, and so were the main subject of it's rage. It stomped across the battlefield, crushing Mutant and Man, their lives irrelevant compared to it's rage.

Sigma ran and fought, firing as the beast charged at them. Each soldier knowing exactly what would happen if the beast managed to get one of them. They reached a hill, just as the monster caught them. It killed three in one blow, and a fourth with a stomp. Only leaving the sergeant alive to face the behemoth.

It tried to smash him, but he dodged and forced his power fist into it's arm, the beast screaming in rage and pain as he continued the process, deflecting the blows from it's other arm by firing into the monster's face and forcing it to cover itself from his fire.

He reached it's head, and the beast finally grabbed him and forced him into it's mouth.

The beast stood triumphant, as it's stomach exploded in a ball of green plasma.

Sigma's final act of defiance was to overload his armor's reactor, and detonate it.

The beast fell to the ground, dead.

The battle raged for a few minutes more, until the remaining mutants fled back into the building and the last Americans regrouped outside.

Nearly two hundred casualties on their side -including sigma- and their only progress was to the front gates.

So began the siege of Mariposa.