Ghosts of Progress IC (Fallout PnP)

[Connington]

"Fair enough. But we've still got business. A note we've got here says that whoever took Pat has a bone to pick with you too. Here, read it." After the man does so, Marcus speaks again. "Now, interested in re-hiring us?"

[Frosty]

Azumi just stays quiet for now, since the others are doing such a good job of talking. "Well, I guess it won't be a total loss if we get hired or a different job and get paid."

[Jokes]

Lex

"Rrrr, we go to all the trouble of going there and back and get nothing for it? Not our fault the guy got kidnapped."

[Gnorman]

Cassidy reads the note slowly, fear slowly dawning on his face.

Ah hell.

Cassidy took another shot of whiskey and sat down at the bar, holding his head in his hands. When he speaks next, his Irish accent is gone, replaced by a rough-and-tumble growl.

All right. Seems I've been sussed out. Might as well give you the full story.

Years ago, Patrick and I were conscripts in a neo-con militia out in the east. Worked for a man who called himself General McCarthy. He was a brutal, vengeful man, but he had a dream of a wasteland free of war, free of struggle - a wasteland where the common man could toil and work in peace, raise his family, and not have to submit himself to the savagery of the wastes. McCarthy thought that raiders, mutants, and ghouls were the scum of the universe, and decided to wipe them all off the face of the map. He'd found an old National Guard munitions depot, and began arming men from around the area, men who'd been wronged by muties and trash. Men who believed in his vision, men who wanted to turn this hellhole of a world into something a little more tolerable - albeit at the point of a rifle.

I was one of those men. Hell, I was one of the best, one of McCarthy's lieutenants. I killed my fair share of innocent people. Ghouls just looking to be left alone. Raiders who were just trying to survive. But it didn't sit right with me after a while. McCarthy laughed in my face when I told him my concerns. When I showed a bit of mercy and brought a broken-down mutie in alive, McCarthy had me beaten and shot the poor sonofabitch himself. That was it for me. Soon, I was able to convince Patrick and his brother Garrett to escape with their families. We made it out here, and we decided to split up, to avoid McCarthy tracking us down - he never took too kindly to deserters.

The caravan was a sham. Had to deceive you, sorry. There's nothing in that damn suitcase except a letter to my friend, thanking him for sticking by my side. The money was going to go towards funding a resistance movement - we thought moving it this way would make it seem less suspicious.

But if they've got Patrick... they know where to find me. They might even have Garrett already. God dammit. We've got to move fast.

I know this ain't your battle, but McCarthy's not going to stop until he's spread across the land and killed every last one ghoul, mutant, raider, bandit, and suspect individual. He'll round up those who won't kowtow to him and throw them into labor camps. The man is a megalomaniac, but he's a damn genius, and he's one hell of a tactician.

If you want to run, now's the time to run. But if you want to help me overthrow this bastard, I'll make sure there's good caps in it for you.

[Dersess]

Gideon

"I will not run, Mr. Cassidy. Men like this one should be taught the error of their ways.

And if not that, I can always just shoot him in the head..."

[Connington]

"Can't vouch for anyone else, but I'm in." said Marcus. This was something. Redemption maybe. "I'm sure you know that Pat had some natty surveilance and mapping, but I don't think you got the latest news. Here" he said, grabbing one of the maps. "As you can see, it looks like raiders are moving out of the Can. I suspected that they had allied with McCarthy, but now I'm guessing he chased 'em out of the area. Either way, we've got a problem. First thing though, we should probably get Garret safe, for the sake of Pat and his kid, if nothing else. You got something faster than walking?"

[Jokes]

Lex

"So long as I actually get paid after all this..." The ghoul rolls his eyes melodramatically, then gives a slight smile at the group.

[Ridai]

"Pff, do you have any idea how many dictators I've seen rise and disappear again, following their righteous ideals because they think they're right but constantly bending and breaking them to fit their own egos? Dude-Carthy might fancy himself a genius, but if I may indulge myself for a moment, I already was as a kid and living more than one and a half centuries and being a ghoul left me with helluva lot more wrinkles in my brain than that megalomaniac brat can dream about." Hank states all of this as fact and stays silent for a moment.

"Man, I'm all fired up now, huh? Took that lazy bastard Indian summer long enough, finally found a good pastime." And, of course, the ghoul apparently can't take anything seriously.

[Surrealistik]

After a silent moment of consideration, the mutant begins to speak.

"That was... or rather would have been quite an expensive letter delivery..."

His gaze intensifies in clear suspicion of the man, an eyebrow raised, tone interrogative.

"I surmise then that you were planning on recruiting us all along?"

Hardin shakes his head, as if dismissing his confrontational behaviour, and the value of the query.

"Ultimately, I suppose the question is irrelevant. If what you say is true, you have a fast ally in me."

He offers the man a reassuring nod.

[Frosty]

Azumi

Azumi looks pensive as she mulls over the findings and admissions. "So...we've got a megalomaniac warlord spurring on raiders towards the area? Jesus Christ...just another typical month in the Wastelandes eh?" She smiles sadly.

"Well then, Mr Cassidy...the question is...how much caps can you provide to build this resistance. The Yakuza and other mobsters in Tacoma are mean, ruthless SOBs, but even they don't want a massive raider invasion to wipe 'em out. we might be able to convince them to join forces with us...and make them OUR mean, ruthless SOBs. However, we may need caps as incentive."

[Dersess]

Gideon

"Not a bad idea, Azumi. I'm sure there are numerous toughs who can at least somewhat handle themselves in a firefight to be recruited...and any fortifications that can be erected should be done so ask quickly as possible. Of course, we must get the boy to safety as well..."

The preacher falls silent for a moment, looking off into the distance, reminiscing about a time long forgotten. After a moment, he returns to the present.

"We may have an opportunity, now that I think about it. We know where the enemy is coming from, and where they're planning on attacking..."

A devilish smile falls over the preacher's face. He continues.

"Which is why we need to attack them, instead. We hit their supply lines, steal what we can carry, and burn the rest. It'll slow them down, at least long enough for a more substantial defense of the community.

I know it sounds risky, even a little reckless. But it can be done. We just need something fast, and some explosives. I would be going along, of course, and anyone willing to join me would be more than welcome. I'm not promising danger free, but if we succeed, we may be able to deal a crippling blow to the enemy before they even arrive.

A wise man once said that if you know yourself, and know your enemy, in one-hundred battles, you will never be in peril. Which is why, Mr. Cassidy, I'd like to know as much about this McCarthy fellow as I can...how he fights, and more importantly, how he thinks."

[Jokes]

Lex

Lex's ears prick up. "Good sir, reckless is my middle name." He can barely contain his excitement now, but manages to keep it under control, giving a little manic grin every now and then.

[Gnorman]

Heh. Almost makes a guy choke up, this sudden overwhelming bout of good samaritanism. All right. Obviously, I can't pay you in caps since the bloody McCarthyites stole my money, but I have something you might find to be fairly damn compensatory.

Leading you to the back of the bar, he takes you into a walled-off area just outside. Motioning you over to a beaten-down garage, he points to a large black tarp and pulls it off.

Sitting there, in near-pristine condition, is a military-grade jeep.

Fuel cells are full, my friends, and there's a few extra cells in the trunk. Retrofitted it with an MG3 turret, too, so you'll have some artillery to back you up. Problem is, she's welded onto the frame, so you can't take her with you - but she's real steady and I've got a few clips in the back as well. Might be a bit of a squeeze with six, but one of you can sit up in the turret, I suppose. Runs like a damn dream - fixed her up myself.

If you're with me against McCarthy, she's all yours. You're going to need some speed if you're going to raise an army.

Now then. Preacher, you want to know a little bit about McCarthy? Here's what I know. The bastard's smart. Real smart. Started out as a small-time farmer in Sandpoint. Had his family killed by raiders. Swore revenge. Over time, he got his fellow man together and they cleared the immediate area of bandits, recruiting more and more to his cause. Like I said, I was one of them. He's ruthless but he's efficient. If you disobey him, even just the slightest bit of insubordination, you're getting the lash - most folk don't disobey him a second time. And that's just if you're in his ranks. I've seen him order entire villages burned to the ground because they defied his commands. He demands tribute, protection money from all the communities in a fifty mile radius. He got on some racial purity kick a few years back - convinced himself that God was talking to him, telling him to cleanse the wastes of any mutations, keep the human line pure. He ain't just the general to his people - he's their shepherd, guiding the flock and putting the unbelievers and the tainted to the sword, so to speak.

Sandpoint's run like a military base - it's all barracks and training grounds. His men are well-armed, well-trained, and they believe in their mission. They're fanatics, plain and simple. They have plenty of experience dealing with rabble and unorganized raiders - but I doubt they've run up against any sophisticated guerilla tactics. McCarthy trained his men to fight bandits and paramilitaries, not a full-scale resistance movement. That's probably our best advantage. But if he's coming over the mountains, he probably expects to encounter armies and standing forces - he'll likely have whipped his men into shape in that regard. Now, I ain't saying that we don't stand a chance here - New Seattle's got plenty of people and its own defenses. But McCarthy's been drilling for this day for twenty or thirty years. He holds the hearts and minds of his people, and they'll gladly die for him. He's going to hit us hard, fast, and like a goddamn hammer. We've got to figure out how to disrupt that hammer before it can reach us.

[Jokes]

Lex

"Shhh..." He heads over to the jeep and puts his head down on the bonnet, his arms outstretched, "let's not ruin this with words."

He hops into the drivers seat. "Military, not my usual, but nice." He runs a hand over the dash.

[Connington]

Turning to the Ghoul spouting off plans, Marcus remarked "One day you're going to tell us all how a preacher knows so damn much about war. Still, it's a good plan. And we've got real transport, so I day we hustle it to Garret, then try and figure out where the money went. With money, I reckon we can scare up some able bodied fighting men. Speaking of which, Cassidy, we've got a couple of bandits we stumbled across and hired. Maybe you could extend their contracts?"

Watching Lex's obvious appreciation of the gift, Marcus laughed hard. "Hank, what do you do if a ghoul has a heart attack out of sheer excitement?"

[Ridai]

"Laugh, get a towel and a change of pants, check if something fell off that wasn't supposed to, in no particular order. But damn, ethnic cleansing, it's 1941 all over again." Hank shakes his head and inspects the jeep closely, especially the engine.

"Even if we recruit some guys who know how to point the business end at something else than their feet, people are stupid and lazy. Even if they know they'll all die or submit if Dude Carthy gets his way, they will still argue endlessly about irrelevant things, want their quality of live to be as good or better than ever, think they know best what to do even with a metric ton of nothing in their skulls et cetera, unless someone talks or smacks some sense into them and keeps it that way. Fundamentalists and high-ranking criminals can be especially difficult. Also we will have to make sure no one just joins Dude Carthy's army of minidudes, even more so with the Yaks or raiders. Morale will be a deciding factor. I'll handle the dictator mindgames, the rev already got his hands full as the leader."

[Surrealistik]

Hardin tips his head in agreement with Hank.

"I suppose I too may serve in an advisory capacity with respect to military disposition and strategy; when recruited into the Nightkin I was provided with a great deal of pertinent information and training. I have little doubt this knowledge will prove useful in the coming war."

The mutant frowns as he considers the intent and character of this new opponent.

"So, we've ourselves a human Master..."

Despite himself, he can scarcely help a slight smile.

"It's almost... karmic in its irony."

[Frosty]

Azumi

Azumi didn't grow up with this level of politics or tactics, so she feels a bit lost. Still, hit and run tactics is something she is used to. "Ooh ooh! If anyone needs to do hit-and-run and destroy supplies, I'm very good with that! I used to sneak around ALL the time to create trouble in the back-alleys. This can't be that different."

[Dersess]

Gideon

Completely ignoring Marcus' remarks about his knowledge of strategy, the preacher turns to Alexander.

"Some realpolitik may not be too bad of an idea right now...Think you can do it, Alexander? I don't think we exactly have the time to make separate runs for this. You may need to stay to help build up physical fortifications and alliances with those willing to help us out. Azumi, depending on how we plan, it may not be a bad idea for you to stay and make sure Alexander keeps out of harms way...should some dealings go south. For now, I want to keep as few people out of potential line of fire, even if it means our raiding party taking a hit..."

The preacher turns to Hardin and Marcus.

"Now, you two have seen live combat before, I'm assuming. And some form of military training to boot. Hardin, my friend, I'm eager to learn all about how the Master fought his war, and Marcus, I'm sure your Brotherhood...well, brothers, I suppose, have some favorite tactics...hopefully something that doesn't involve power armor and air support?"

[Connington]

I don't appreciate having my past aired ghoul, but yes, I was with the Brotherhood. Most of our tactics did revolve around technological superiority, and how to keep it, but their are a few factors we can adapt. For example, I doubt we have time before the raiders hit the area, but it might pay to poke around some old military bases before McCarthy rolls in.

Our task is to mobilize a land of fractured and unprepared power bases against a unified force. There will be no splitting off his forces, but we can organize ours, putting together what forces we can. That means people, organization, money and technology. The first is our priority. The second we can forge ourselves. The third is lost and must be recovered. The fourth is nonessential, but eminently helpful.

Now, you've got a kid to deliver, a brother to rescue and a fortune to recover. I'm going to stick around in Seattle, try and recruit some men while Hank plays mindgames with a mad man a couple hundred miles away."

[Ridai]

Hank sits down on the jeep, pulling his mossy leg up with both hands, and rests his chin on his cane. "You might want to reconsider letting me handle the negotiations. I know how to trade and whatever comes close to financial dealings, but I'm not the kind of person who can lead and wrap some nice gift paper around unpopular ideas to make them sound more palatable. The moment someone more apt at screwing people over decides he knows better how to handle things or exploit the situation, we lose. People don't believe the truth, they believe the guy with the best presentation. That and we have to think how we make people even accept that we call the shots or at least have some considerable influence on the resistance."

The ghoul sighs and looks towards Azumi for a moment. "Azumi knows how to handle people and I think she is bright enough to understand what it takes, but almost every woman got their fickle ego riled by her presence, making them look at her like she is a useless ditz. That and I'd have to explain politics, PR and human psychology in-depth to her. And I loath to do that to anyone, especially someone as young as Azumi, since those topics are a giant, disgusting cesspit. To make a long story short, we need a personality to become the leader of the resistance in the public eye, who understands what is going on, can make people believe him, make difficult decisions and can take a lot, and I mean a lot, of stress and doubt."

"In other news, I can do the organization and construction. Having the people of Navsta down here would help, centuries of technical knowledge and practice can't be wrong, but getting them to leave their refuge will be hard for us and painful for them."

[Surrealistik]

Nodding in assent to the ghoul's query, Hardin begins to respond.

"The most useful lessons to be taken from the Master's guidance are concerned with precision raids, supply seizure, scouting and investigation. Beyond consolidating a power base for the resistance, these things must construe our top priority. The more learn of our enemy's disposition, the more efficiently we can deploy our forces, and the more we weaken and delay the enemy on its approach, the less force they can leverage to penetrate our defenses, which themselves will have hardened from additional preparation. We wish to beset them from both sides; to close about them like a trap, have them bleed out precious time, assets and morale. Even fanatics will desert, sufficiently pressured."

The mutant thoughtfully considers a ridge of beer bottles, their closely packed bumps and contours reminding him of a particular key detail.

"It is also imperative that we leverage terrain and other force multipliers. The mountain will prove an invaluable asset should we arrive first and establish garrisons at the major routes of passage. At worst, the enemy will experience substantial losses and delays. At best, they will be routed, and forced around."

[Gnorman]

Sounds like you've got your hands full. I tell you what. Let me take the kid to Garrett - I know where he is, and our time is short enough that you should concentrate on your own plans. I'll send word to you as soon as I can - this particular delivery shouldn't take more than a day or two. Will you be in Seattle by the time I come back? Where should I send a message to?

[Ridai]

"Hell if I know. We need headquarters and at least a rough plan before we tell people what's going on. Makes the ensuing chaos more manageable and makes us the go-to persons for how to solve this mess. Any of you know where a suitable building is in Seattle? I'm waiting to start my 21-hour-workdays."

[Frosty]

Hank sits down on the jeep, pulling his mossy leg up with both hands, and rests his chin on his cane. "You might want to reconsider letting me handle the negotiations. I know how to trade and whatever comes close to financial dealings, but I'm not the kind of person who can lead and wrap some nice gift paper around unpopular ideas to make them sound more palatable. The moment someone more apt at screwing people over decides he knows better how to handle things or exploit the situation, we lose. People don't believe the truth, they believe the guy with the best presentation. That and we have to think how we make people even accept that we call the shots or at least have some considerable influence on the resistance."

The ghoul sighs and looks towards Azumi for a moment. "Azumi knows how to handle people and I think she is bright enough to understand what it takes, but almost every woman got their fickle ego riled by her presence, making them look at her like she is a useless ditz. That and I'd have to explain politics, PR and human psychology in-depth to her. And I loath to do that to anyone, especially someone as young as Azumi, since those topics are a giant, disgusting cesspit. To make a long story short, we need a personality to become the leader of the resistance in the public eye, who understands what is going on, can make people believe him, make difficult decisions and can take a lot, and I mean a lot, of stress and doubt."

"In other news, I can do the organization and construction. Having the people of Navsta down here would help, centuries of technical knowledge and practice can't be wrong, but getting them to leave their refuge will be hard for us and painful for them."

Azumi thinks for a moment. "Hank-sama, perhaps both of us can the spokespeople then? I've been working on my...persuasive skills lately and I believe I can deliver your message. If people see you standing behind me and youproject an air of confidence and knowledge, that should assuage any fears they have about me being a useless ditz."

[Ridai]

Hank rubs his forehead and eyes with one hand. "You better think this through carefully, there will be a ton of work and learning coming at you fast, possibly no free time at all. I'll have to see if my Fabulous Zombie Looks can counter Raging Estrogen of Jealousy. Might wanna think about putting on a more mature image for speeches and meetings and all that crap, helps with being taken seriously and them putting trust in what you stand for. First impressions are incredibly hard to get rid off."

The ghoul lets himself fall backwards onto the other seat. A short moment later, he looks at Azumi again. "Wait. Sama?"

[Gnorman]

Well, I figure we should get the hell outta Dodge if McCarthy's looking for me. The bar's probably a lost cause at this point.

Cassidy ponders things for a moment before scrambling for a pen and paper.

Go to this address. Old mutie buddy of mine. He's no friend of the McCarthyites, and he may be able to give you some idea of where to start. Name's Forrest. Wicked smart for a greenskin. Should be able to give you a safehouse, at least temporarily.

Cassidy hands the paper to Hank. It has an address on the other side of Seattle, in a primarily residential area.

Sigh... suppose someone's gotta break the news to the caravan guards about the no pay thing. Guess I might as well take care of it. Maybe some of 'em will sign on for the new job, eh?

[Ridai]

"Do ask them, if only for sheer patriotism and for me to see a schoolgirl kick their sorry butts when they get their drills and combat training. Wait, maybe getting their sorry butts kicked by a schoolgirl is a potential motivation for them, might wanna mention that, too. I'm going to visit that Forrest in the meantime, if you'll excuse me." Hank hops off the jeep, pats Cassidy on the shoulder and leaves for the address.

[Frosty]

"Wait, Hank, I will come with you. And yah, I'm ready for all the learnin'. Papa always said I was smart. So...first thing we gonna do is talk to this Mr. Forrest and get him to help us talk to folks?"

[Ridai]

"Oh, you betcha. Talking to the Council or even getting to them will be all kinds of fun and marvelously entertaining like rainbow-pooping unicorns."