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TLW cursed inwardly as he scanned the sheet listing dozens—if not hundreds—of pressing issues awaiting decisions. Though the Republic had been officially declared weeks ago, there was still no constitution, no formalised laws, and no functioning judiciary. The penal system was practically nonexistent; those deemed deserving of punishment were, on an ad hoc basis, fitted with slave collars and condemned to the mines at Evergreen Mills, serving an indeterminate sentence with no clear legal precedent.

Adding to this chaos, communication had arrived from the Pitt, the only other large city within RCW's current geopolitical sphere. Lyons and Wolff had debated sending an ambassador, but ultimately abandoned the idea, reasoning that it would be akin to delivering Dostoevsky to someone barely ready for a children's primer. Instead, they opted to send a representative from the trade guild, who would focus solely on establishing and managing trade relations from a small outpost positioned midway to the Pitt.

In fact, the trade map itself was becoming cluttered, with the guild's routes crisscrossing nearly all known settlements. Trade lines had been formed with at least twenty settlements, large and small, stretching down the coastline. However, the expanding network brought fresh challenges. With their primary routes reliant on the coast, the need for more steamboats was becoming urgent, as was the emerging threat of piracy—a risk almost certain to rise with the increase in maritime traffic. This would demand a naval presence, something the fledgling Republic sorely lacked. Developing infrastructure, assembling a naval force, and constructing boats fit for both transport and defence would take years to achieve, but they had to begin somewhere.

Determined to address these needs, Lyons authorised an order for Reilly to scout suitable coastal areas within Republic borders to build a port. This would be the first of many steps, he hoped, towards establishing secure trade routes and bringing some semblance of order to their new nation's sprawling list of priorities.

The toughest meeting TLW had ever attended was the session on establishing an economic framework for the Republic. He'd never felt so out of place, and at one point, he wished he were back in the cold, empty metros, battling hordes of ghouls. Scribe Fredman, who had spent the last seven years combing through archives and old books to become perhaps the world's only economist, was the one leading the lecture. Her task was to convince both Lyons and Wolff of the need for a stable economic system beyond the existing bottle cap currency.

She began by explaining that old-world money had its value because a government guaranteed it, pointing out a worn dollar bill inscribed with a promise to honour its worth for all debts. "This note," she said, "represented the equal value of something else." She then displayed an old 100- and 200-dollar bill for comparison, but her point became clear when she handed Lyons a heavy bag filled with 200 caps.

"Imagine travelling with 1,000 caps," she said. "The risk of theft alone is high, and that doesn't even include the sheer impracticality of carrying so much. A house in Megaton now costs 20,000 caps, and just the logistics of moving that amount would likely require an additional 1,000 caps in security measures. When you exchange 20,000 caps for a property, that property's value is tied directly to the caps, but the entire process is bogged down by the inefficiency of transporting physical currency. This stunts economic growth. Every hour spent collecting and transporting caps is time that could be used to produce something meaningful. Moreover, the cap economy fuels the dark market—who's stopping a thief from taking caps across borders, draining our economy? And then, who even determines value? Is it the buyer, the seller, or the city? These kinds of ambiguities sparked wars in the old world."

Fredman took a sip of water before continuing. "The question of free market versus government intervention has defined economic thought since modern economics emerged five centuries ago. Some governments have tried to control what gets produced, how much, and where money is spent. This can create stability, but at the cost of growth; after all, as biology teaches us, people need incentives to push for improvement. On the other hand, unchecked capitalism, which prioritises production for the sake of production and growth for growth's sake, is what likely led to the Great War. There was no one to control resources, no one to prioritise sustainable solutions. When resources ran low, those left were hoarded or fought over. And here we are, centuries later, facing the same question."

She leaned in, her voice emphatic. "We need an economic system we can manage and direct—a free market, yes, but one with ethical and sustainable principles at its core. We should pursue growth, but not at any cost. We need to maintain control over our economy and serve as the guarantor of value within our Republic."

"Are you saying the cap system is unsustainable and should be outlawed?" Lyons asked.

"No," Fredman replied. "I'm saying the cap system will naturally fade if we establish a stronger currency, one that is state-backed and guaranteed. People won't use caps if they can use a lighter, more secure currency that offers equivalent value. The cap system is volatile. What stops someone from flooding society with counterfeit caps or pouring millions into circulation, sparking hyperinflation? Prices would soar overnight, and carrying caps for high-value transactions would become impossible. Similarly, hoarding caps and removing them from circulation would create a scarcity. With caps as our economic base, we have no control or safeguards against such crises."

"What do you suggest?" TLW asked.

"A new currency, backed by a commodity that meets the criteria of rarity, durability, divisibility, fungibility, and recognisability."

"You mean gold?" TLW asked.

"Gold is an ideal choice," Fredman agreed. "I'm not saying the gold standard is flawless—eventually, limited supply will restrict growth, and it's vulnerable to speculation. But initially, it would provide price stability, allowing us to set a reliable exchange rate for any territories brought under Republic control in the coming years. I suggest we start with a gold standard as the foundation for an economic system that can eventually sustain itself without it."

TLW took a moment to absorb Scribe Fredman's detailed vision for launching a new currency. When he asked what was required to start, she outlined a pragmatic but ambitious path.

"First, secure gold. Scour the Wasteland, gather what you can, melt it into bars, and lock it away safely. The bars will serve as a guarantee of the currency's value and help stabilise the nation's credit. Next, we need physical currency to represent this value—carefully designed bills and coins, printed on special paper to prevent counterfeiting. Historically, lower denominations are minted as coins while larger sums are printed as notes. Based on observed cap trade, I suggest denominations of 1, 2, 5, and 10 in coins, with 50, 100, 200, and maybe 500 in notes. But remember: higher-value notes can fuel black-market activity." She paused. "Taxes and budgets…well, that's a conversation for another day."

TLW nodded thoughtfully. "One question. We've got abundant water and brahmin here. Why not back our currency on that?"

"True, but water might one day run dry, and brahmin herds could be wiped out by disease. Gold, however, is permanent. It's impossible to fabricate or inflate artificially—no one can simply 'produce' more gold."

"So," TLW said, summarising, "we need a measurable, valuable system, plus someone to head up this project."

"Indeed," Lyons interjected, turning to Fredman. "Would you be interested in a formal role, reporting directly to Vice President Wolff?" Fredman, caught off guard, accepted with a cautious smile.

Fredman soon took up her new position as National Financial Director, with an office in the Capitol and a year to launch the monetary system. To everyone's surprise, her early work yielded a hidden treasure: an old printing press south of Arlington. The machinery was dilapidated, inhabited by ghouls, and needed repairs and security updates, but it offered a promising start.

For TLW, the day was only half over. After a brief rest, he savoured some fresh fruit and a cold Nuka-Cola, his small luxuries amid a demanding new role. Though the politics and logistics occasionally weighed on him, a glance at the repeater on his shelf—a trophy from his final battle with the Enclave—reminded him of his purpose.

The next meeting was with Brigadier Reilly, who arrived in her green overalls and black beret, her uniform always crisp. The two friends discussed various military initiatives, including progress on Project Prydwen and the operationalisation of armoured personnel carriers. Lyons broached a larger topic: restructuring military command. He offered Reilly the position of Defence Director, empowering her to standardise hierarchy, develop traditions, and integrate the military's various branches under one authority. She accepted, agreeing to move her office to the Citadel as the Republic's new military headquarters.

Throughout the day, other key appointments took shape. Harkness gained a seat on the Defence Committee as leader of the SOB, along with a mandate to expand his operational branch by 100 men. Sarah Lyons took on the role of head of the Steels, with Farrow named First Lancer, both joining the Defence Committee. As day turned to afternoon, they tackled the challenging matter of Third Link leadership. Though Senior Scribe Rothchild declined, the council selected Bowditch, who accepted enthusiastically.

The final meeting was with Sonora Cruz and Lucas Simms. TLW proposed consolidating the Capitol, Megaton, and Rivet City guards into a unified Militia to improve internal security. Cruz raised concerns about remote security and resource needs, whereas Simms, stretched thin by Megaton's rapid growth, supported the plan. After intense discussion, it was decided that reinforcements from Greyditch would temporarily support Megaton, and the Republic would prioritise establishing a legal framework before formalising the Militia's mandate.

By evening, TLW retreated to his quarters, where he quickly fell asleep, his dog Dogmeat curled beside him. Early the next morning, he awoke to a knock—a scribe delivered the day's security briefing, a new protocol from President Lyons.

"Good morning Mr. Vice President, here is the morning brief" the man gave him a black folder.
" The what?"
" New orders from President Lyons, every morning we are to provide a summary of the current security events for the President and Vice President eyes." The scribe smiled and left the office. TLW opened the folder. It was only one sheet.
No events from forward bases or border posts.
No internal threat detected
Third link intercepted chatter from settlement abut the Horde, information pending.
No external threat detected.

TLW sniffed on the report, feeling they would get bigger as time went by.

After a rushed breakfast, TLW boarded a Vertibird to Baltimore for a military inspection. The garrison, a restored fortress fortified with modern defenses, was a stark contrast to the surrounding ruins. The soldiers received new Republic emblems and raised the national flag in a formal ceremony. In a meeting with the local commander, TLW learned that the city was largely barren, occupied by scattered raiders and the occasional ghoul. The commander advised against significant investment in the ruins, favoring instead a secure route north to Philadelphia and New York—a long-term goal TLW left for another day.