}!{
A voice crackled through the intercom, jolting Scribe Karter from her daydream. "Expedition Team 22 Post-Mission Evaluation. Let's begin."
She straightened herself up on her seat and drew closer to the table. Her eyes adjusted to the glaring white light of the room, where she remained alone to be scrutinized by the higher ranking scribes on the opposite end of the insulated window. With the way the reflective sheeting covered her end, she could only see herself on the glass and not the people staring at her from the other side.
Their first inquiry was direct, "Tell us of your encounter with the primitives of the Corpse Coast."
Karter recalled the events that led into their team's disastrous expedition into the Texan Coastland, where many of her brothers and sisters-in-arms met their end. "We...attempted to communicate peacefully with the coastlanders, and it worked for a short time. I and the initiates adhered to the Outreach Protocol, established relations to garner information about the region while Paladin Brand and the knights worked to build up an outpost in the ruins. Then, we were attacked by raiders."
"Their technological distinctiveness, how would you describe it?"
"Their equipment was crude, Pre-War era ballistic weapons and salvaged metal armor. There were the occasional energy weapons, such as plasma or laser, but they were rare."
"So, this was how they defeated you?"
Karter shook her head, "We were outnumbered, and they kept coming day after day, each force multiplied twice over with every encounter. We held out, but our defensive capabilities diminished as we took casualties."
"Did they take the equipment of our fallen upon death?"
Another shake of the head, "No. We always destroyed what we couldn't retrieve, all except for their holotags. Paladin Brand insisted that it was the best way to honor their memory, and deny the primitives of their bounty."
"You did well to do that, Karter. Now what about the people, the indigenous tribes living in the Coast? Describe their living conditions, their infrastructure and their level of hostility towards outsiders."
"The primitives, the tribals, they were good folk." Karter's lip twitched into a smile, "Their infrastructure is simple; they've barely grasped the basics of agriculture, medicine and even personal hygiene. I'd call the Corpse Coast the edge of hell, but somehow these people managed to eke out a living through it all. If the guns didn't kill them, it's usually disease or the radiation."
"A pitiful existence?"
"I wouldn't call it that." Karter replied, "They've been largely hospitable, once you've gained their trust."
"How about exploitable resources and recoverable technologies, did your team manage to salvage anything from the ruins?"
The scribe's eyes lowered as she remembered what Paladin Brand did to secure his team's safety. "We did, but we...had to trade them in."
There was silence on the other end. Karter could almost imagine someone taking the spot of the scribe presiding over the post-mission evaluation.
"Explain."
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she prepared to answer, knowing that she and the team were in trouble now. The only thing she could do now was come clean and hope for the best, so Karter started from the top. "When our team withdrew after being put to rout by the raiders, we stumbled in on an outpost that belonged to another wasteland faction's expeditionary force. They called themselves 'The Dominion'. Their technological capabilities are comparable with our own." She paused, remembering the tanks, the power-armored soldiers and their guns. "They may even surpass the Brotherhood in that regard."
Another moment of silence, one that felt unbearably long for the scribe as her superiors on the other end of the glass box took the time to discuss her troubling revelation.
Behind the glass stood three men; Head Scribe Harper, Head Paladin Larsson, and Elder Corvinus himself.
All three were staunch followers of Maxson's creed, to such an extent that his ideals were instilled in the guiding doctrine of the Eastern Division when they formed the Texan Chapter rather than setting it apart. Plans at expanding the Brotherhood's reach into distant territories had already been put into motion, and any threats to their attempts at repairing the broken world had to be taken seriously.
So, with this in mind, Elder Corvinus took over the evaluation personally in order to get the most out of the scribe's report.
He leaned over and pressed the button on the microphone, "Tell us everything you know about this Dominion."
Winter held tightly to his mother's hand as they descended the hill into their new home. Autumn pulled her shawl tighter around her head as they followed the caravan line down through the dirt road, carefully avoiding the large Dominion war machines as they rumbled past them on the opposite lane.
The Blood Harbor, now renamed Liberty Point, had ceased to exist as the Corpse Coast's main slave trading hub. From that day forward, it would serve as the Dominion's coastal citadel and the beginning of a new age for the tribals living there.
Autumn hated having to come there, as she remained haunted by the memories of the last time she visited that place, but she had little choice in the matter. Their Dominion benefactors urged them, along with the rest of the refugees, to head there as part of their resettlement program.
Outpost Seven was supposed to be a temporary solution to their displacement problem. They had nowhere to go back to, as any place other than Dominion held territories proved too dangerous to resettle. Their only option now was to take the Dominion's offer, find a place for themselves among many others in Liberty Point.
It was better than the alternative.
Woodland led the brahmin pulling the wagon containing their meager possessions out of the caravan train and off to the side once they entered the gates. He stopped to check on the wheel, then paused to survey the surrounding buildings with his sister when he found it all to be in order.
Autumn was amazed to see how quickly the scenery had changed since she left the Blood Harbor. Most of the old buildings had collapsed into rubble from all the fighting when the Dominion rooks massacred the Lexxers and the other raider factions living there. Gone were the flesh-totems, the grotesque gorebags that hung over every telephone pole.
Most of all, the streets were clean. The air no longer stank of dog scat, corpse rot or body odor. They were replaced by the strong aroma of oil, smoke and gunpowder.
Tanks and IFV's were parked in neat little rows at the motor pool, ready for retrofitting, repairs and refueling. And instead of the standard of the Lexxer barons, the flag of the Dominion flew high and proud over every towering structure, clearly announcing to the Corpse Coast that the dawn of a new age had begun.
The Dominion soldiers, along with the pioneers, worked quickly in tidying up the place. Their coordination sped things up, paving the way for the technicians to bring in their bulldozers and other construction machines. The dull hum of engines overhead startled the tribals, causing them to look up to see three vertibirds descend from the skies to land at the edge of the harbor.
With them, they brought more giants in metal armored suits to reinforce the rooks defending Liberty Point.
In the short time she'd been at Outpost Seven, Autumn noticed that the Dominion took the security of their lands very seriously, as it seemed they spared no expense in fortifying every structure and position they had under their control.
"Hey, you two!" Autumn glanced back, hearing the commanding voice of a Dominion rook call out to her and Woodland. A man dressed in black combat armor pointed to the gathering of refugees at the opposite end of the street they were in, "Lieutenant Weiss' getting started with the orientation. I suggest you head that way, lot's of important tips you wouldn't wanna miss."
The siblings exchanged looks, then moved to join the other refugees. Winter waved at the man, flashing him a shy smile as his mother pulled him along.
The soldier returned the gesture with a curt nod and returned to his post.
Hope climbed on top of the platform and addressed the crowd of settlers, "Good morning. For those of you who haven't met me yet, I'm Lieutenant Hope Weiss of the Dominion. For those of you who have already met me, like those who chose to stay and accept the generous offer of our sovereign nation, I applaud your wise choice." Her arms stretched out to gesture to the citadel around her, "I welcome you all to Liberty Point."
There were nods among the settlers, but all remained silent as they listened attentively to the lieutenant's words.
"As you know, this is no longer Lexxer land you're going to be living in, it's Dominion land. Here we have rules, laws and requirements." Hope went off to give the list of rules, in a way that the tribals would understand.
Once they were given their assigned living quarters, settlers were expected to report to the nearest job assignment office so they would be given their job based on their existing skill sets. To live in Liberty Point, they had to work. Basic necessities such as food, water and medicine were given freely but anything beyond that had a price.
No freeloaders, one of the longest existing rules since the Dominion's emergence from Vault 115.
Although certain weapons, such as any weapon caliber lower than a 10mm, were permitted to be carried within Liberty Point's grounds, violence was strictly prohibited.
Slave trading, murder and rape were capital crimes, which the lieutenant stressed particularly as crimes punishable by death. Stealing was punishable by heavy sanctions or forceful eviction.
It was clear that the Dominion ruled with an iron hand, but it was certainly better than an iron fist.
"You are not yet citizens, but for as long as you are with us, you are under our protection. We only ask for your obedience and cooperation." Lt. Weiss turned to the sergeant standing at her side, "Sterling, take the floor."
"Not yet citizens?" Autumn muttered, "What's that about?"
"Look here!" Sgt. Sterling held up a Dominion credit coin, which constituted of a copper base with gold rims. "This is a Dominion coin, amounts to 10 credits. This is the currency of our people, it is how we buy or sell things. You will be paid with credits depending on the amount of work you do for us in a day. Work well, and you will be paid well. That is all. Any questions you might have, you may ask one of the pioneers."
The Dominion officers descended the platform and headed their separate ways, the lieutenant for her new office and the sergeant to inspect the barracks.
"Sergeant!" Autumn left Winter with her brother and approached the man, "Sergeant!"
The gruff Dominion officer with the graying hair stopped and glanced back in annoyance. His expression changed when he noticed the pretty woman step out of the crowd to meet him. "What is it, waster?"
"Don't you remember me?" Autumn drew her shawl back, revealing her bright auburn hair. "I'm Autumn. You and your men rescued me from the Lexxers."
"Ah, yes…I remember you now." Sterling twitched awkwardly, clearly preferring to be anywhere else besides talking to the tribals. "Looks like you and your family are in for a bright future. You got any plans on what to do, now that you're here?"
"I was a scout and a hunter for my tribe, when it still existed. I hope that will be of use to you and the Dominion."
The sergeant looked at her thoughtfully and mused, "Yes, it will be of use indeed. For now, I advise you to get your family settled in. Quarters assignments are fast, you'd run out of the good spots if you waste time talking to me."
Autumn smiled, "Thank you. It's good to see you again."
There was a faint crack of a sniper rifle in the distance, followed by the alarmed cries of Dominion soldiers rushing to defend the front gate. Sterling quickly said his farewells to the little family of tribals and went to investigate.
Autumn hugged Winter close as she watched the terse exchange between the officer and some of the rooks.
"What the hell happened?"
The soldiers carried back a critically wounded sentry to the infirmary behind the barracks. The poor man screamed in agony as he squeezed tightly to the gaping hole in his stomach, just under the thick kevlar padding covering his body. It was a high caliber round, possibly a .308, that punched through his armor. "Sniper got him. Motherfuckers were taking potshots at us."
"Lexxers?"
"Not likely. Could be another one of those raider factions. Cowards packed up and hightailed it out into the Wastes."
Sterling frowned, quickly coming to a decision. "Hunt them down, but be careful. Might be a trap."
"Could be." The soldier replied, "But if all else fails, we've got the Knights on our side, right?"
"I sure hope it doesn't have to come to that." The sergeant said, "You have your orders, go after those sons of bitches."
Meanwhile, as the rooks prepared a counterattack on their fleeing enemies, a team of scientists from the Bishop division back home gathered around a restrained Baron Voss in the secured Dominion compound set up in the middle of Liberty Point. The last of the Lexxer leaders, surviving only due to his superhuman tenacity, remained alive only to be analyzed by the Dominion's brightest minds.
The rooks guarding the facility exercised the utmost caution when it concerned the super-mutant, as his capture cost them dearly in the final hours of Operation Burnout. Voss proved a hard foe to best, much less kill. No matter how many bullets and explosive ordnance tore through his flesh, the baron showed a remarkable regenerative ability that far surpassed any living thing they've come across in the Wasteland.
Naturally, the Dominion's scientists believed he had to be studied, and all his capabilities exploited to their fullest extent.
Lt. Weiss, however, remained apprehensive towards the significance of keeping the super-mutant alive.
She watched the team of scientists circle and saturate the super-mutant with their scanning devices. Voss, restrained firmly to the steel beams built into the facility floor by thick reinforced steel shackles, was forced to kneel before his captors. Bent in that position, unable to move a single inch, he found himself in a perpetual state of discomfort and it angered him to no end.
An iron muzzle, one that was used on the slaves the Lexxers deemed too feral or aggressive to be let loose, was fixed over his jaws. The irony of his predicament all felt like one cruel joke, courtesy of the Dominion's morbid humor. He was not the master now, but the slave, destined to be sliced apart piece by bloody piece.
The lieutenant noticed his stare and remarked, "It'll be a lot safer if you probe that thing when it's dead."
"True, but it will diminish the potential discoveries we might garner from it." Dr. Angram, the lead scientist of the team, replied as he approached the super-mutant glaring up menacingly at him from where he knelt. "Rest assured, lieutenant, when the test subject has outlived its usefulness- I will endeavor to determine its exact terminal threshold."
Voss groaned as the doctor cut out a piece of his shoulder into a petri dish.
Lt. Weiss' brow arched at the unfamiliar term Dr. Angram used, and she threw him an inquisitive look.
"Meaning, you can try and kill him."
Having gained all the information they could get from Expedition Team 22, Elder Corvinus dismissed Paladin Brand and his subordinates, allowing them to eat and rest after a long trip. Their mission could be celebrated as a partial success, as they've gained new insights on the state of things beyond the lands of the Permian Basin.
His perspective on the matter, however, was not shared wholeheartedly by his circle of advisors.
Head Paladin Larsson, in particular, was skeptical about the team's claims. "Primitives possessing vehicles, armor and technologies..." He quoted Scribe Karter's words, "...utilizing them in a sophisticated manner? Impossible!"
"You cannot rule out the possibility of it being true." The Head Scribe said, tapping his fingers on the round table before him, where the three heads of the Eastern Division met to discuss the validity of the reports. "Our order emerged from the ashes of the Old World no more than twenty years ago, and now look at us. Mankind is tenacious, and so is its capacity for progress. This 'Dominion' is proof of that."
"They are proof of the dangers of technology's unrestrained advance!" Larsson argued, "They must be put back in their place- it may already be too late!"
"Calm yourself, Larsson." Elder Corvinus chided gently, "We mustn't lose ourselves every time a vestige of civilization shows technological capabilities. We will act, but prudence must guide our actions."
Both men looked to the Elder for guidance, and they waited for him to come to a decision. While Larsson, representing the militant arm of the Brotherhood, preferred direct action in all things, respected Corvinus enough to show restraint in their attempts to achieve consensus. Harper was just content to see things move along.
"We will watch the Dominion while we gather strength. When the time comes, we will test them." The Elder decided, "If they accept our aid in guiding them, then we have nothing to fear."
"And if they do not?" Larsson asked.
"If they prove hostile towards our attempts at shepherding them, we will destroy them."
}!{