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Vault Girl Season 2 Finale - Vault 30 Plot: Sky Fortress Ascendant

It was a typical night in New Mexico, no different from any other. There had been scattered reports of an Enclave 'Airship' of some kind in the region but nobody had verified the reports or taken them seriously.

The Militia had not been placed on alert. The Government had not been warned.

The explosions were visible from El Dorado when Roswell was hit, the blasts illuminating something massive in the sky; something almost on par with the alien mothership of several months past.

Yet it was not something of alien construction, it was one of the remnants of the pre-war American Military Industrial complex.

Hundreds of Vertibirds spread out from above Roswell, disgorged from the Sky Fortress across the Wasteland. No settlement was safe from attack, nobody had expected an assault of this magnitude.

There were no occupational forces, no invaders, just aircraft blanketing the sky and dropping untold numbers of weapons of destruction.

Families died in their homes. Soldiers at their posts.

El Dorado was lucky enough to have anti-air defenses that had been setup during the Siege of El Dorado but they were not enough, not in this terrifying moment.

A night when the skies were blackened by aircraft, and then illuminated by explosions.

Note: This will change the face of many Settlements. Tonight you have the chance to do whatever you can to defend any Settlement on the grid of your choice or default to El Dorado. Please be sure to page me with your plans, and how you will accomplish this.
Rexus Captain Rexus is at the Militia HQ in El Dorado, as befits a Militia officer... he's there to coordinate and figure out what's going on. All this came as a bit of a shock, reports flooding in. He's got the big acetate map on the wall, trying to get a picture and organize the troops. "Get them geared up, weapons and ammo only... keep the vehicles in cover till the AAA batteries are manned and active... we send out anything it'll just get eaten up by their aircraft."
Matt The Lone Star Compound reacts quickly, with people divvying out to defense positions. (There aren't that many. Especially for air defense.) Mostly, people move to trucks or wagons to try and evacuate. Get out of the city or at least to somewhere more defensivel. Matt is in the midst of it all, yelling and pointing and directing.
Grover Grover is in Avalon, working in the back room when he hears all the commotion going on outside. He steps out his front door, trying to figure out whats going on...a thunder storm...a tornado...nope, hell is in the air tonight. "Oh Smeg...." as he looks around to the other startled citizens as well. "Lets show them how to do things, old school!" As he shouts to those nearby, "We may not have rocket lauchers, but man the catapults....start cranking the balista...and someone find me a cow...I wanna see if we can hit the canopy of one of those birds." As he moves to the classic weapons of war himself...one thing he can do, put his strength to work.
Bart Bart responds quickly enough, trotting out in his shiny alien-tech armor and that giant rifle with the beautifully calligraphied 'Velma' down the giant barrel with too many wires and gadgets. Boots crunch as he falls in with the militia long range fire-support team. He's happy to apply lasers to the Enclave right now.
Aris The reformed raider had been in the middle of nowhere just north of Rural El Dorado when the first explosion was heard. Never one to run from danger rather than toward it, Aris had gathered her guns and saddled up the old Paint, riding hell-for-leather to El Dorado. She'd met up with Bart outside what she always called 'Fort Knox', looking relieved to. "Someone ain't happy," she calls out over the noise, but otherwise accompanies him to where the militia are without a word.
Ashur The bombs fall like shooting stars; they drip from the sky, glittering tears, and strike the earth as pillars of flame, blinding in the night. The earth itself shivers in fear, and the denizens of New Rome, ever-vigilant from lifetimes of martial law, are shepherded by a detachment of Whitecloaks and temple priestesses to the sheltered basements of old world Lordsburg, whose stout construction saw them endure the Great War itself.

Amidst the screaming chaos, that numbing mixture of human cries, engine roars, and shattering winds, Ashur and the Whitecloaks respond as they can. The town was never meant to halt an assault from the sky, but it has long been in possession of advanced technology, weaponry the Brotherhood of Steel once sought to reclaim; the soldiers take up positions where they can on grand guns and artillery platforms, while others use the heavier guns on their vehicles to spray the air with violence.

Ashur has even permitted the city access to his own horde of Treasures, that collection of artifice he's accumulated in defiance of all common sense given he just punches things -- miniguns, lasers, flamers, and alien technology passed into the soldiery's hands as they mount up on rooftops and high places.

The power generator and medbay on his settlement have been opened, too, serving the needs of the city, with the brilliant Eden in tow to help repair vehicles, tune weapons, or patch up the injured that they might continue to fight.

Ashur himself has taken a uniquely direct role: clad in his glimmering Hellfire, cloak spread about him like white wings, nuclear flame pulses beneath him, burning through all the fuel cells he has in head-on attacks against the vertibirds when they come low for their runs, leaping across the city's rooftops and the darkened skies, dancing around dropped bombs as he hurls himself again and again and again like some pegasus jouster.
Jackson Jackson recieved word of the attack while he was en route to El Dorado from Parkes Point. When the information reached his troubled ears, he immediatly hammered his bike's accelerator, picking up as much speed as he could. It fuckin' figured this kind of shit would go down when he was out of town. It was Overlord all over again-- he was helpless, and incapable of doing what he needed to to ensure the Federation's survival. By the way the reports sounded, it was a thousand times worse than Overlord-- the bombs were falling like rain, and the Federation's response was a chaotic, jumbled mess at best. But that was to be expected. What could they possibly do to combat a fleet of Vertibirds? But rather than lament over the lack of effort he could put forward himself, the marshal didn't waste an instant. No sooner than the moment he began to panic and hammer his bike's gas, he was already linking up his radio to his suit's helmet in an attempt to coordinate the Sheriffs. When he reached the Department in El Dorado, he frantically ordered the operator to merge their signal with the general radio channels, and did his best to broadcast to the whole of the EDSD's assets.

"This is Jackson Parkes, Dep--Marshal of the El Dorado Sheriff's Department. All active sheriffs, deputies, and marshals, under authority of the El Dorado Federation, are hereby ordered to prioritize the evacuation of all civillian bystanders to safe locations. Set up evac routes and safe zones, escort the populus to them, and do everything in your power to get as many people to safety as possible. To hell with the Enclave ships-- we don't have the firepower to deal with an assault of this magnitude. Get people underground in places like Vault Town, The Roswell Underground, metro stations, old bunkers, the SOED bunker, anything. Don't worry about a counter-offensive, just focus on the innocents. It's what we do best. If possible, combine your efforts with that of stranded militia patrols-- supplement your ranks with theirs, and get on it. From this moment moving forward, I'll be acting as the defacto commander of the EDSD's operations until this assault has come to a conclusion. Report all of your movements, safe zone designations, evacuation routes, and potential problems to me directly, and i'll relay the information to whomever can assist you to the best of my ability. Godspeed, lawmen. We've handled worse before-- We can handle this. Above all else? Remain calm, and maintain order. The last thing we need is a riot on our hands."
Vault Girl In Avalon, the people pay dearly for their insolence as the bombs dropping amidst their wooden homes create fires that have to be put out. Men and women run into the streets burning alive, no way to be saved; their screams of agony signifying the end of their lives.

Yet the catapults that are manned by Grover and a handful of others score some retribution as they knock more then one of the Vertibirds out of the sky with medieval technology.

In El Dorado, citizens are racing through the streets from Shantytown towards Vault Town at the insistence of Tibbie and several others. While many make it to safety, many more lose their lives risking moving through the open roads of El Dorado towards the cover of Vault Town.

The handful of AA Cannons throughout the city are manned by the militia but the volume of fire they put out, even combined with sharpshooters like Bart is not enough to put a meaningful dent in the attack force that has been sent out by the Enclave even with Rexus guiding the Militia.

The El Dorado Sheriff's Department under Jackson Parkes is successful in guiding people to underground locations and keeping them in their homes where they are safest, but the carnage continues unabated.

It is perhaps New Rome that fares the best, thanks to the actions of El Dorado's Samaritans years earlier. The prototype laser defense technology the people of New Rome had recovered from the near-by Air Force base in Western New Mexico was put to good use at Ashur's direction in putting down multiple Vertibird squadrons. It was the same technology the Brotherhood of Steel had died trying to recover.

The insanity of the fact that Ashur was in the air attacking aircraft in gold-plated armor came to bite him in the ass though. Reality had enough of it, and common sense kicked in as the gunnery crews of the Vertibirds lit Ashur up like it was the 4th of July.

Multiple rounds penetrated the Power Armor, the Jetpack malfunctioned and Ashur crashed into the ground with bone shattering force...
Franky     The view through hole in the wall was quite remarkable, a giant ship in the sky swarming with Vertibirds. Like flys on a turd, the explosions on the horizon drew wonder on Franky's face. He marvelled at the destruction from the remains of a ruined home almost reclaimed by waste. Franky leaned forward and breathed in the air, listening and seeing how much fire in the sky comes down.
Grover Grover watches a few of the flying things go down, but not enough. "Where do they find all these wonderful toys....I wanna start shopping there..." As she looks around at the destruction. "Alright..next time I move into a town with a proper castle...."
Aris "Siempre hay algo de mierda pasando aqui..." Aris mumbles to herself as she pulls up the rear of the long-range militia group beside Bart. She ain't exactly a long-range type, so she's making herself useful getting people out of the street and patched up real quick if they're bleeding too fast. Ten minutes into the craziness, her sleeves and jeans are already smeared with blood that isn't her own.
Benito Benito was in a saloon minding his own business and nursing a drink earned after taking out some unfortunate SOB with a bounty on his head when the bombs started hitting. He's gotten used to this town, after a fashion, so when the first few explosions rang out, he - like most of the other patrons - at first assumed there was simply some violent skirmishing going on, perhaps on the outskirts of the settlement. But soon it became clear that there was a genuine assault on El Dorado underway, and people began panicking, rushing out into the streets in a mass of screaming, wailing humanity that has left behind more than a few unfortunates injured by the crush before they even have a chance to be incinerated.

The bearded mercenary waits for a time until the entrance clears, finishes his drink, and then walks out through the front doors just as another bomb hits a building across the street. The explosion sends him reeling back indoors momentarily, partially from the shock and partially to escape the resulting wash of painful heat. When he forges his way out again, the first thing he stumbles across is a man laying in the street - a lawman, by the looks of him, not dead but obviously severely injured. Benito grunts, not typically being of a mind to go out of his way to help lawfolk, but he grabs the bleeding officer under the armpits and drags him inside. The guy's out like a light. As another round of explosions and hysterical screams sounds in the nearby city, Benito catches the tail end of Jackson's speech on the portable radio the unconscious man carries at his hip. Scoffing, he yanks it free and jams a finger against a button. "Oye, Señor Parkes. I was with you at that factory---" After snagging the officer's badge on a whim, he walks back outside, sees a mass of pedestrians who are nearly mashed into a paste by a vehicle that goes speeding by, and grunts, unaware he still has the radio turned on from his end. "HEY! GET BACK, FOOLS! I..." Madly, he raises the badge. "You see this? Listen to me - get off the streets and get underground, NOW!" Sighing, he raises the radio to his mouth (not that it makes much difference) and continues: "I'm afraid your hombre who had this thing is taking a little siesta, but I'm guessing you could use a little help, eh?"
Matt Wagons and motorcycles vroom vroom from the Lone Star compound, headed south towards Vault City and its underground tunnels. Matt eventually finds himself at the forefront, leading a convoy towards that part of the city. They take losses along the way, but eventually vehicles get abandoned aboveground and the employees and families that came along start to head underground towards safety.
Jackson As his motorcycle tore down the cracking cement of the highway, Jackson hastily issued orders and intelligence reports to his troops as they became available. He was doing everything in his power to remain on top of the situation at hand. He advised the majority of personell to do what they could to stay out of the open streets, and seek shelter as close to their current locations. The goal was the underground, but sparing that, the best they could do was basements, and places which had already recieved the bulk of the destruction. From the moment he assumed control, he didn't stop shouting into his radio over the roar of his chopper. He designated the other marshals as defacto commanders of the evacuations, tasking their capable hands with overseeing the bulk of the operations while he relayed intelligence and tactical information to the sheriffs and deputies. In short? He was simultaneously taking in an unrealistic amount of intelligence, and relaying it through the proper channels nonstop while barreling toward El Dorado at top speed. Through the haze of information, a familiar accented voice reached his ears.

"Benito, was it?" Jack began, obviously a bit out of breath from the exertion of handling his bike whilst issuing so many orders.
"You could say we could use all of the help we can get. I'm inbound currently, but as of this moment, you can consider yourself an official deputy of the El Dorado Sheriff's Department. Do what you can to keep people off of the streets, and in the safer parts of the city. I'm doing what I can to get support to you guys-- I'll deviate a duo of deputies to come and give you an assist, and see if I can't convince Ol' Rex to send a militia patrol your way as well. If you need it, anyway. I can't talk for long, though. I fyou need anything, have anything to report, or need crucial assistance, hail me on this frequency. Aside from that? Get to work." With that, Jack cut the channel before Benito could respond, and continued issuing orders across the board.
Vault Girl After what seemed like a lifetime of frantic bombing, explosions, screaming, and terror; it was all over throughout New Mexico... or so it seemed for now. There were fires burning, people in need of medical attention, untold numbers dead.

In a single moment of awe-inspiring fear, The Enclave had shown their true might. They had played their trump card against New Mexico.

A radio report from David Ghoulie claimed that the 'Sky Fortress' was moving away from Roswell towards the West, towards Arizona... towards New Rome.
Franky     A match strike comsumes the end of Franky's cigarette. A nice long drag and then he vents the smoke, "Hm, supposed I should be on my way." Franky retreated back into the shadows of the ruined home. He reappeared, throwing the serape over his shoulders, and crawling over the crumbling walls. He adjusted himself and began walking toward the explosions in the distance. "Getaway sticks, don't fail me now."
Grover Grover watches as the skies clear for now at least. He then glances around, and pulls his healers medkit from his duster. He moves off to see what he can do to help.
Ashur Ashur's duel against the dozen plus vertibirds didn't go in his favor, though he gave as good as he got -- when he tumbles out of the air and crashes to the city below it is the clay-bricked temple he crashes through, smashing into the dais bearing the revered statue of Mars and reducing it to a smoldering crater beneath him. The impact shatters bones and dislocates his left shoulder; he lies there, for a long moment, the cracks in the ground spread outward like spiderwebs, the broken fragments of the godly statue around him, Mars' fractured head staring the mad hero who shares his face directly in his red-lensed eyes.

"To think," Ashur rumbles, teeth clenched and bloodstained, "a god would break before I do."

The laughter makes his chest ache.
Aris The streets of El Dorado are a horror show, fire and blood. Aris falls back from the long-range militia eventually, caught up in the task of helping a man keep his guts in while moving from one building, across the street, into the basement of another. She leaves him there with a half-dozen others and emerges back onto Gold Street near the saloon. Her hands are slick with blood and guts, but it doesn't stop her from double-checking the ammo in her revolver as her eyes search the skies, empty for now.
Eden Eden has been pulling as many wounded into the medbay as possible. anything to get people out of view. still working, she sees what could only be Ashur fall from the sky and goes cold. Grabbing her motorcycle she takes off to where she saw him fall. She knows the motorcycle can't hold him, but maybe there will be something on the way that could... or maybe she could help stabilize him. He can't be well after that fall. she dearly hopes those staying on her ranch are far enough away from the city to have not been hit hard- but there's no way she can get there in time to do anything. Pushing the bike as fast as it can go, she makes her way to find the crater her husband just made in the ground.
Vault Girl Unfortunately for New Rome, and fortunately for most other settlements it was the existence of the same technology that had spared it from major damage would cause further attacks to be directed against New Rome; buying the other cities and towns some time to breathe in the aftermath.

For Ashur and the people of New Rome, hell was coming from the skies.
Benito "Yeah, got i--" Benito begins, but then hears the telltale click of the radio going dead as Jackson cuts the transmission off. Grinning, he stuffs the thing in one of his pockets and hunkers down low, trying to keep out of sight of the menacing vertiberds as they glitter in the darkness overhead. He catches another group of people as he begins to make his way away from the saloon and the nearby wreckage - a large family, by the looks of them. He gives them the same gruff instructions to get underground as he did the first group, mentioning that there's a basement in the saloon behind him that will provide some shelter. Then, grimacing, he moves on, coughing as he inhales a harsh lungful of acrid smoke. When he comes out the other side of the yellow, stinking haze, he sees Aris. "Mierda," he mutters when he catches sight of the blood on her. Waving an arm to alert her to his presence, he jogs towards her, still coughing. "Hey! Hey, chica! Are you all right?" His dark eyes flit nervously up again, searching for more of the bombers.
Ashur The temple, save for Ashur, has been abandoned; it is a house of ceremony, ill-fit for war, and the priestesses have long left. He alone rests in that pile of black-gold duraframe, surrounded by crumbling statues of heroes and divines, a living tombstone thrust up from the painted clay guts of Mars. When the explosions brighten the night sky, he sees them through panes of stained glass and the gaping maw he opened in the roof, backlit by plump moon and twinkling stars.

It's a lovely sight, and one Eden will find him appreciating, when she hops off her bike and pushes through the temple's open threshold.

"Ahh, my bride," Ashur greets, struggling to a seated position, back against a mangled column. His hands brush aside debris to make a spot for her. "One.. moment," and he rises up, broken bones cracking, creaking, popping as he forces them to obey, his Hellfire opening up as he slips out of it weakly. He slumps against the column.
R "Your stimpak.. do you have it on you? Give it here, and fix the jetpack."
Vault Girl The Sky Fortresses deadly cargo of Vertibirds was seen by New Rome long before it was, and where there had once been a few squadrons threatening the settlement there was now the entire compliment of aircraft.

The weapon batteries in New Rome were silenced, along with most of the settlement as hundreds of bombs rained down upon the city, blossoming into deadly explosions that claimed life, and land alike.

When the defensive weapons of New Rome were finally silenced, the Sky Fortress moved on and into Arizona; having decimated New Mexico in a single night of violence and terror.

Across the state, fires burned, and people mourned.
Jackson The stress pumping through Jackson's veins distracted him from the roads he travelled on. What would have normally been a slow, boring and long-winded trip back home had suddenly passed him by in an instant in the wake of his new responsibilities. In what felt like no time at all, he was driving toward the outskirts of New Rome... But it was burning. As he crossed the crest of the horizon, and finally laid eyes upon the carnage first-hand, he was stunned silent. The formerly prosperous city had been reduced largely to a flaming, smokey pile of rubble interspersed with chaos from end to end, and yet, the barrage continued. Streak after streak of rocket-propelled hell barreled into the whitecloaks' home, and the marshal's shellshocked frame was wordless in the face of a flood of queries over his radio. After pausing for an instant to take it all in, the adrenaline dripped into his system once again, and he hammered his bike's throttle, pushing the scrap-coated machine to it's maximum speed. He had to do something-- anything. He'd be damned if he'd just sit here and watch the city burn.
Aris 'Chica' pulls Aris's eyes away from the sky and down to meet the stranger who approaches. She's too suspicious of the empty skies to be suspicious of him. Either that, or hearing him speak her language has earned his not getting shot. "Ain't my blood, caballero," she answers, wiping her hands on her jeans though it doesn't seem to make much difference. She pushes a bit of hair away from her face, and now her cheek's streaked with it. Her eyes go to that badge. "You a deputy?" she assumes. "Need a hand?"
Eden "I think I liked this place better last time we were here. NO- don't lean on broken bones you... Goddamnit." Eden is furious. "Do you have to keep breaking things?" She doesn't say whether she means himself or the equipment. handing him the stimpak, she goes over to the jetpak to see if it's in any way repairable. Maybe I can fix this enough to just limp you home. "The house was ok when I left it, but that was before the last round of bombs. Seems like they passed over now to their next target."
Tibbie The short brunette is huddled with her mother and other survivors in Vault Town. The scene her is dark and unhopeful, children crying and men screaming as they're being patched up without antithetic. Leaving her mother a moment Tibbie searches the crowd for a familiar face, Mike. The man was holding a heavy looking bag and keeping to himself in the corner. She approaches him and seems to be scolding him. Things escalate and Tibbie grabs the bag, pulling it and struggling to claim it.

"These people need it!" Tibbie hollers and the bag tips to spill out various syringes of med-x, calmex, and lining the bottom is a horde of caps.

The survivors leap frantically to claim the dropped goods and Tibbie becomes trampled underneath them while Mike slips away to another section of the vault.

"TIBBIE!" Billie shrieks and runs to her daughter, kneeling as Tibbie's been bruised badly from the ordeal. Broken syringes leak to the floor and some fiendish characters have already began bartering with the medics and local known addicts.

Billie's inconsolable as she helped haul her daughter to the makeshift medic bay and waits.
Ashur Ashur's glimpse of the Sky Fortress is limited to what's visible through the temple's broken roof, but it is enough to give an impression of vast size. He squints and gazes up through the fire-lit skies. "What.. is that?" A rhetorical question; he doubts his Eden has seen more of it than he has, or knows anything, anyway. "It's some sort of.. big ship. The Enclave has made big ships."

He lacks the vocabulary to identify a carrier. They don't really show up much these days.

Ashur slumps against the column once more; his weight presses upon his broken arm and he hisses like a viper between bloodslick teeth. "Just.. inject me, painkiller. Enough to walk. We need to get home and check."

As Eden inspects the jetpack, she'll realize quickly it's not going to be operational any time soon. She can repair it, back at her workshop, but it'll take time and energy. Ashur's not flying again tonight.

He takes a step forward and leans down, placing a kiss upon her head. The adrenaline helps him ignore the crinkling in his leg and the odd way the bone bends.
Benito "Ah, good," Benito grunts as he watches Aris wipe the blood away from her hands. His concerned grimace turns into an appreciative grin when he registers the young woman's words and accent, although her question throws him off for a moment before he barks out a short, bemused laugh. "Sí, I guess I am, for the moment. I found a passed-out policía back there and his boss deputized me on the radio.¨ He winces when a loud crackling sound like a thousand bones splintering announces that a nearby building has collapsed under the assault of the fire. "I'll take the help, though, chica. I'm no hero, but if we can keep some hijos alive, well..." He shrugs, as if to say 'why not?', and extends a hand to her quickly. "Benito. Might as well stick together, who knows if these Enclave bastards have dropped troops in with their fucking bombs."
Aris The dark haired woman's blood-slicked hand slips into Benito's, offering a firm handshake despite it. "Aris," she offers in return, uncharacteristically open about it. Hey, the fucking sky is falling, why not? "Congratulations on your promotion, Deputy For-The-Moment." At Benito's supposition that there might be ground troops coming as well, Aris grimaces but nods, shouting over the calamity in the streets. Somewhere a baby is crying. "Bueno. I'm better at puttin' holes in people than I am at patchin' 'em up but reckon I'm better help than none!"
Tibbie Returning to her mother at last Tibbie leans into her arms and keeps her eyes closed.
"I hope Tibba and Fern made it out safe, I aint seen em here." She pouts as her mother pets her hair.

The hours pass and more uncertainty rises in the cramped vault, only the screaming has subsided as the injured have either passed or been cared for, leaving only quiet sobbing and hushed arguments to fill the space.
Benito Chuckling wryly, Benito withdraws his hand. "Gracias, Aris. First promotion I've ever got." If it weren't for the bombs going off he might be inclined to let his gaze linger on the young woman's for a moment longer than is strictly necessary, but what with all hell breaking loose around them, he instead turns grim-faced to the smoldering wreckage of the nearest clump of buildings just north of the saloon. There are more screams coming from that area, although it seems that the worst of the bombing might be over with. "That makes two of us. Maybe we can at least keep some of the dumbasses from getting themselves blown up before they have a chance, though." Casually, he unholsters his own pistol - a Desert Eagle - and stalks forward, keeping on the lookout for both victims and potential enemies.
Jackson EL DORADO

The surface-to-air defence sites that the militia had erected so long ago fired on the flood of hostile aircraft with pinpoint accuracy, but the shere numbers which the Enclave employed were enough to overwhelm the guns with little effort. The northern wall was the first to fall in a hail of missile fire, as was the shantytown market, the medical clinic, and the militia's checkpoint at both the northern and southern gates. Some of the buildings were peppered with craters, shrapnel and holes, but the northern checkpoint was destroyed near-entirely. The one thing that was constant throughout the whole of the city was the fires which were spreading after the interior was barraged. The town hall was wrecked, the bank was blazing, and the streets were coated with the dead, dismembered corpses of innocent bystanders struck by high explosives. The coffin shop collapsed on main street, the Gold Digger's front wall had been blown inward, and the streets themselves were a swarm of chaos as the missiles came down. It was all blood, and chaos, and debris thrown about in clouds so thick that one could barely see two feet in front of them. When would it end?

In time, the vertibirds departed. Those who still remained on the surface watched as the Vertibirds slowly retreated, and were left with the grim reality of their surroundings. The fires still raged, there were injured moaning in the streets, there were buildings half-collapsed and still threatening to fall at any moment. But there were survivors. Among them, were the familiar faces of the EDSD, still hustling survivors toward safety, still doing their best to maintain a semblence of order in the city's streets. The chaos that was beginning to erupt in Vault Town was quickly combatted by the badge-wearing deputies of the EDSD, and anyone with a fraction of medical training was patrolling their surroundings, trying to patch up the wounded where they could be found. The militia did much the same, helping organize fire-fighting efforts, rallying together what was left of their troups, and trying to bring a bit of sanity back to the burning town's streets.

This place needed order. The first priority was the fires-- the next, was the wounded. News of the Enclave's apparent retreat reached the bystanders below, and what survivors were left waited anxiously for somebody to step up and give them a bit of direction. It was up to the samaritans of El Dorado to decide how this night would end. The Enclave was gone, for now-- But they had left their mark.
Jackson NEW ROME

As Jackson burned rubber down the narrow stretch of road that remained, the destruction which he had witnessed became truly apparent. He still continued to direct his subordinates back in El Dorado and beyond through his radio contacts, but as he did, he stared on in horrified awe as what looked like the Enclave's entire fleet moved Westward. The shelling had lasted for what felt like a lifetime within New Rome's walls. Where EL Dorado had been barraged, and barraged hard, New Rome had been absolutely decimated. Nye but the Temple, pieces of the Arena, and the structures below had escaped the hellish inferno that the Enclave had rought upon their prosperous society. The majority of the shops and houses were rubble. The streets were littered with craters, debris from the surrounding buildings, and the charred corpses of civillians attempting to escape death. Fires burned what was left with careless ferocity. The few survivors that had managed to cling to life within it's walls were licking their wounds for now, but in time, they would emerge to witness the charred remains of what had formerly been their home, their democracy, and worst of all, their countrymen.

Jackson did what he could for the survivors as he continued into the city's shattered depths. He loaded what surviving wounded he could find onto his motorcycle, and did what he could to tend to their wounds. In the process, he called for reinforcements from the EDSD, the Militia, and one of the patrols which had been designated to guard the Corvalus plant out West. With the Vertibird that had been assigned to his unit, they'd be able to get down here in no time, and get more bodies up here to quell the fires and help the survivors. He directed the able-bodied survivors, few and far between as they were, to the temple, given that it was the largest and most in-tact of the standing structures in New Rome, and while he did so, he ferried the wounded to the same location, using what supplies he had in his bike and on his person to deal with the most pressing of the wounded. He had nowhere near the medical training necesary for this-- he just hoped that there were more survivors than he was seeing.
Aris With a quick nod, Aristide follows Benito up Gold Road, squinting through the smoke blown into the streets from the burning buildings around them. Movement to their left catches her eye, and Aris sprints ahead towards what looks like half a body squirming beneath wooden beams that used to be part of a covered porch. "Ayudame!" she calls to Benito, lifting the beam but still struggling to get it off of the person pinned beneath. He's screaming bloody murder.
Eden Eden looks up as the first of the wounded is brought into the temple. Looking at what's left of the Mars statue she approaches Jackson. "Please, bring them here. I can help, but I can't leave him. bring any supplies that mught be useful too. How many survivors do you think there are?" As she talks she is already taking a look at the wounds of the survivor in front of her. "We have a house just outside town. I have no idea if it was hit or not... but if not, then there is a MedBay there. If we could find a truck or something..." Eden trails off as she works on the wounds. Luckily they only are skin deep schrapnel scratches- but there are so many. "He needs to be cleaned or these will get infected so easily. Do you think you could look for a truck while i treat people?"
Benito "Shit..." Benito grumbles, re-holstering his pistol when he sees the man wriggling and screaming beneath the collapsed structure. He's quickly on Aris's heels, one hand shooting up to pull his tattered cowboy hat tighter onto his head as a heat-infused gale threatens to send it flying off behind him. It doesn't take him long to answer the call for help from his erstwhile companion; he gets a shoulder beneath the beam she's already begun to budge and heaves his weight and strength into it. When the mass of wood and rubble piled atop the main beam begins to lift away from him, the raider-cum-mercenary hisses: "Pull him out! I can hold it."
Aris Aris's gray eyes slide to Benito as she strains to hold up that heavy beam. To her credit, she only hesitates to trust the stranger for a moment, much less than she might in a different situation. "You drop it on me, I'll haunt your ass forever, diputado," Aris relates to him as she slides under the beam, letting Benito take the full brunt of its weight. The wood creaks but holds above her as she grabs the injured young man by his shoulders and yanks him roughly out from underneath the beam. He's screaming, both of his thighs badly crushed by the fallen debris, but he's alive. "Shh, chamaco..." she tries to calm him. Aris looks up at Benito, frowning. "Let's get him someplace safe."
Tibbie With the hellfire birds gone the vault slowly empties out in time based on the cowardice of the surviving. Mother and daughter Tibbie make the slow walk back to Shantytown to find her childhood home in ruins. Tibbie hobbles to where their massive oven was, it's now a broken shell, she pushes some of it over and finds a shattered jar surrounded by a charred mass.

"No..no no no NO!" Tibbie sinks to her knees and falls onto her back, wailing to sky above. Billie meets her side and quietly comforts her daughter, "We're alive Tibbie, things will be alright."

The families' livelihood had been destroyed, her mothers' home decimated beyond repair, and Tibbie's shack nearby is missing it's roof and wall. Although repairable the shack is no home for Billie. Shocked, displaced, and emotionally destroyed Billie insisted they rest back at vault town as her shack couldn't be trusted. Things aren't looking up for the Gaines family, and a lot of other poor families in ShantyTown are no better.
Benito "Drop it? No te preocupes, chica..." Benito begins, the tense muscles of his neck showing the strain the weight of the ruined porch puts on him in spite of the devil-may-care smile he manages to produce, "...shit, this thing's heavy - you out of there?" The man risks a glance down, wincing when he sees the man's wounds. "Get back," he warns - and then, a moment later, shrugs the weight of the beam off of himself and darts free. The wreckage crashes back to earth with a panoply of sounds that indicates more stuff underneath it has been freshly broken. "Yeah," he agrees, watching as Aris attempts to stop the worst of the unfortunate man's bleeding. He finds a strip of cloth - once a flag of some type - in the ruins and hands it to her so she can use it as a tourniquet, then gets into position so they can hoist the man up and get him to safety. Any straggling innocents they find along the way will be directed to come with, with the shiny golden badge on his chest providing at least some semblance of authority.
Aris Tying that tourniquet and shouldering her fair share of the kid's weight, Aris works with Benito to carry the injured young man into nearest building that isn't on fire. Inside, there are already half a dozen survivors, huddled and injured in various ways. Passing them by, Aris murmurs quietly, almost soothingly, to the boy as they carry him, her eyes glancing down at his mangled legs. She winces.

"Aqui," she murmurs to her Hispanic counterpart, setting the boy on the floor as gently as possible. The makeshift tourniquet still holding, Aris turns and grabs Benito's shoulder firmly with a bloody hand. "Stay with him, I'll go find a stimpak or doctor!" And with a look and nothing more, she disappears out the door back into the chaos.
Eden As Eden continues to tend the wounded, she hears an engine putter just outside the temple. Finishing off the bandage she was working on, she runs outside. Puttering in from of the temple entrance is a sexy, half-beat to shit, barely holding together Chryslis truck. It stalls out. "It's perfect" Eden grins. And runs up to pop the hood. A bit of steam rises out. "Cracked cover, coroded connections..." Her voice trails off as she lists the items she sees quickly to herself. "This should be pretty easy. It's just been sitting aroudn too long without use. I just need to steal a couple things off another vehicle." She hops down and gets the couple things she needs from another aboandonded vehicle parked just slightly down the road. Coming back with an armload, she trips and nearly falls over- but saves herself at the last second.

Before long, Eden is taking turns trouble shooting the car and helping the wounded. "We take ashur first. IT is his house we are going to." There was no questions in Eden's voice.
Jackson As Jackson ferried in the first batch of the wounded, Eden met him with a quick, understandable mouthful of words. Though he'd had a limited amount of interactions with the woman up to this point, that definitely struck him as a relief. She was the practical sort, and was purely focused on the situation at hand, much in the same way he was. He nodded to her in the affirmative, and motioned for her to wait a moment as he brought in the rest of the injured that he had found. After he did so, he turned back to Eden, answering all of her questions hastily before falling back into his new position of authority.

"I understand, stay by his side. You tend to the wounded the best you can, I'll find us a truck we can pull to Ashur's so we can get everybody to a safer place. We'll check the status of the med bay and power supply when we get there, in the mean time, I'll give you some assistance here." After he finished speaking to Eden, he turned toward the other able bodied survivors he'd shepahrded here, and started snapping orders at them, while pointing at each of them respectively.
"You, brown hair. Help her out with the wounded. Move them for her, do what she says, and don't break them. You, blondie-- start digging all of the supplies you can find out of the motorcycles outside. You two-- with me, we're scrapping for useful supplies. You two-- Keep looking for other wounded, form search parties, transport them here, get the abled bodied off of their asses and into gear. Let's move it!" Then, turning back to Eden, he spoke again.
"I'll be right back."

With that, Jack set off into the ruins of New rome. He assisted the man he'd ordered in emptying his bike of supplies, and after he did so, he ushered the two men to follow alongside him. One took Eden's bike after it was searched for supplies, and the other hopped in Jackson's side car, keeping his eyes peeled for anything useable. The trio gathered what useable supplies and resources they could from the surrounding blocks, and eventually, found a shell of an old red Chryslis truck that they could use. It still had wheels, and it's frame was still holding together, if barely, and it would hopefully hold the weight of the combined injured. They wasted no time in chaining it up to the bike, and hauling it carefully around the cratered streets back toward the temple. After doing so, Jack ordered his volunteers off on the hunt for survivors and supplies once more, and walked back into the temple to meet Eden.

"Trade off-- I have a truck outside, do what you can, see if it's anything but a hunk of shit. I hear you're quite the capable mechanist. I'll handle the wounded for now." Doing as he said, Jackson did his best to tend to the woudned that remained. He offered them the few chems he had which could dull the pain, injected a salvaged stimpack, sutured deep cuts, pressure-dressed sucking chest wounds, re-aligned dislocated joints, and used the culimination of his knowledge in field medicine to help out the wounded. But he was by no means a doctor. It was sloppy, amateurish work at best, and intelligent as he was, he knew that he was no substitute for a proper doctor. That being said? There wasn't exactly many of those present at the moment. His limited expertise would do for now. When Eden returned, he swapped her places once again, informing her as to his intentions with the improvements she'd made to the truck.
"Thanks a bunch, you're amazing. I'll do what I can to touch up what, if anything, you missed. I'll make sure we can squeeze out enough power to get to the house by overclocking the fusion battery, too. I'll use the core out of the hothead's suit if I need to. We'll get there, don't worry. It's a good thing there wasn't much to deal with with the damn thing. As for Ashur? Yeah, no problem. We'll load him in, armor and all. It'll fuckin' suck dead lifting him, but he'll owe me one. As you said, he's been generous enough to offer his own life and porperty for his countrymen. The least we can do is give him the courtesy of a ride to his own hous
Jackson "As you said, he's been generous enough to offer his own life and property for his countrymen. The least we can do is give him the courtesy of a ride to his own house to check on his family."