1

The General nodded. In under two weeks, there was real progress. Or at least the tugboat coming up to the wharf of the Castle represented that to her. Radio Freedom pulling double time with his CB did as well (and today he was pulling triple duty). What passed for dignitaries in the Commonwealth were arriving by the APC load backed that up. If nothing cracked, this just might work.

"Permission to come ashore, General.", Admiral Zhoa asked.

"Of course, Admiral.", she replied. The Minutemen on board, all wearing USHANKA HATS, did quick work of tying the boat off after it came in smoothly to the wharf. A gangplank descended and the ghoul switched from 'sealegs' to 'landlegs' without a hitch.

Zhoa walked up to the General and returned her salute. He quickly fell in stride beside her.

"You have that questioning glint in your eye.", the General commented.

Zhoa brushed his jacket nehru jacket out. "I am issued a Minutemen uniform. And at the first public showing, I receive instructions to dress in mainly civilian garb."

She straightened her tie of her CLEAN BLUE SUIT and smiled. "Tonight, we're holding opening ceremonies for a Continental Congress. er, Our October 1st."

"Ah.", Zhoa understood.

The general continued. "I don't want these locals to think that the Minutemen are the servants of the elite rather than the Commonwealth as a whole and all the people in it. So my command staff is going to be dressed to present in this initial impression. Don't come to enjoy it though - we'll be back in uniform like everyone else tomorrow.

"But still, I wasn't expecting you to actually show. I understand you've been burning the midnight oil to get your sailors trained."

The Admiral smiled. "I have promised a multiple mile swim to the men stationed on my Yangtze as the prize for not documenting and fixing a mistake the men promoted to sailor have made. Considering the first set of volunteers, it may take a while.

"However, I have come to ask permission not...how do you say...laud my laurels? I would like to take a permanent dock, akin to Colonel Brandis. There is a shipyard I would like to use for that purpose."

She glared at him questioningly. "Where?"

"Irish Pride Shipyards."

The general broke pace. "I've lived in the Commonwealth when all this was functioning. Including the highways, the cars and the public transportation system. I have never known that there was a shipyard."

She waved Preston over. "Have you ever heard of an Irish Pride?"

The man nodded, looking decidedly uncomfortable in a CLEAN BLACK SUIT. "Yes. After Zhoa's first ship sailed by and reported the place, a crew cleared that out on their first run with an APC. Someone was trying to raise Mirelurks as pets in there, once upon a time. But no one seemed to be there when the crew was though."

She continued to press. "And we're talking a whole shipyard. Drydock and everything?"

Garvey shrugged. "I don't know what a drydock is. But there was a big place where a ship was set on concrete that sloped down to doors that led to the river."

The General threw up her hands. "Sure. Congradulations Zhao, you have a shipyard. Have Preston get you enough men to hold down the facility and get it back to where you need it. But talk to Radio Freedom first - don't let it fall into someone else' hands before we get to it.

"Does this mean you're going to command from Irish Pride instead of the Yangtze?"

"I...think not.", Zhoa answered. "I was supposing to use an 'attache' to speak for me at the shipyard. The facility is will be capable of being run by sailors in order to repair and maintain the ships that can be recovered from the Commonwealth. My expertise will still be needed on the nuclear submarine."

"Alright.", the she acknowledged. "Just get Radio Freedom to sound the need now. You can work out the details on your own time."

The Admiral nodded. After he walked off, a feminine scream was heard. As the General ran toward the scream. And was kind of happy to note that the various Minutemen in uniform were jumpy enough to nearly point the way with their leveled IM muskets.

Her short sprint brought her to Overseer McNamara. The Vault 81 leader was staring at Admiral Zhoa in horror. Admiral Zhoa seemed to be processing her expression.

"Overseer Gwen McNamara.", the General greeted. "Allow me to introduce Admiral Zhoa, commander of the Minutemen's naval services."

"It works for you?", the vault dweller inquired hesitantly.

Zhoa's lips somehow thinned from their already irradiated state. "Were Chinese so dehumanized from the war?"

"He's agreed to help the Commonwealth recover from the disasters that have faced it.", the General stated carefully. "Some of the destruction and particularly the radiation has affected us all in different ways. Zhoa's condition makes his aid all the more respect worthy."

"Oh.", the overseer agreed. "I'm sorry, Admiral. All the traders that have come to our vault have said that ghou...er, people with your conditions had no sense of being a person left."

Zhoa nodded. "That is...unfortunately true all too often. My crew has suffered more than I. Your...how did you say, vault? Protected you from this?"

As the overseer explained, the General was able to extract herself from the conversation. With one crisis averted, perhaps the ones she was expecting would be easier to solve.

2

Between APCs pulling up to the gate leading to the one road from the Castle, a lone Minuteman walked up. "Hey, I'm not late for the shin dig?"

"What are you doing out here all alone?", the gate guard questioned. "And without any combat armor?"

"That's just the thing.", the new bald Minuteman explained from behind his sunglasses. "I was coming down with my crew from Coastal Cottage but ate something that got my stomach around County Crossing. My guys went ahead of me because of the resupply. So on one hand, I gotta catch up to them. On the other, at least I get to be here for the big hullabaloo."

"And you didn't 'delay' your recovery just long enough to be here tonight?", the gate guard insinuated. The man shrugged. "Sure. Just don't step on anybody's toes. All the big wigs are here and the General is working the crowd. She doesn't need any problems."

"I'll be as quiet as a mouse at a farm in drought.", the Minuteman assured.

3

"Ronnie, you look lovely.", the General complimented.

The aging woman in her LAUNDERED DENIM DRESS (but still under her MILITARY CAP) scowled. "Lookin' ain't soldierly."

"Protecting the people is.", the General countered. "And to do that effectively, we have to coalesce. You think a Diamond City politician and a Goodneighbor rabble rouser are going to act in unison if they don't both think that there's a bigger boot stomping the block."

Colonel Shaw folded her arms. "Doesn't mean I don't understand. Just like it means I don't have to like it."

"Have you seen Mayor Hancock yet?", she asked.

"You mean Ghoul Drunk Face?", Ronnie countered. "He's breathing liquor like it was Jet. I'd even get mad if he didn't seem to prefer the moonshine to any of the pre-war vintage."

"Thanks, Colonel." The General walked away from her sulking form toward the impromptu refreshment area. She found Hancock chatting up two Minutemen women with words that were sure to offend if told in any other tone of voice other than his only joking but maybe not scratchiness.

She walked up to him. "Are you still capable of delivering/"

"Hancock's always capable of delivering.", the ghoul announced.

"your speech?", the General continued with a reluctant smile.

"There's two things you can count on ole John Hancock for.", he assured. "Being there for the people."

After a pause one of the women in uniform prompted, "And the other?"

"I'm sorry, the other?", Hancock said while slamming back another shot of gut rotting moonshine.

"Hancock!", the General exclaimed exasperated.

The mayor straightened up. "Don't worry, I'm only acting inebriated so one of these ladies will *ahem* take advantage of me. But I understand how important what we're doing here is. You lined 'em up, I'll knock 'em dead."