Community:Fanfiction/Camilla on Ice

Camilla on Ice is a work in progress fanfiction by RurinGas.

Background
This story concerns the Svetlo & Co. Water Concern and begins in Appalachia during 2110.

Prologue - The Waters of Life
Camilla stood at the Water Concern's roundtable, pouring over the mass of papers strewn about the table. The other members of Svetlo & Co Water Concern's leadership muttering among themselves, waiting for her input. Eventually, Camilla sat down and sighed, massaging her temples.

"So." she said "What is this crackpot scheme you lot have thought up?"

One of the men at the table, a mohawked man named Seb, spoke up. "We've uncovered a Vault ma'am, just off Mount Pleasant." he said "The number on the front appears to be 113"

Camilla put her feet up on the table and reclined in her chair, her interest waning

"Yeah, yeah..." she said "So what? Water production is holding, and last week's raid on that little settlement they were trying to set up off of Berkley Springs gave us enough reserves..." Camilla then turned and glared at Seb "Why the fuck would I want to risk fucking with that pre-war Vault-tec mad science bullshit?"

There was a pause, all the other raiders at the table held their breath, fearing that intervening would lead to their deaths. Seb took a deep breath to compose himself before answering "Well, the door indicates that this one hasnt been opened, meaning everything inside is probably intact." There was a pause, Camilla still looked at Seb expectantly. Seb continued.

''"All Vault-tec Vaults come with an advanced water purification system, if we could rip one out of a Vault and bring it back here, We'd be selling the purest water available for miles, and we wouldn't have to rely on these scrap water pumps. We'd never have to worry about the water production again."

Silence filled the room once again. Camilla closed her eyes in thought. "A Vault's worth of water *would* bring in a lot of caps... And we'd be spending a lot less on pump maintenance..."

Camilla reopened her eyes, and sat upright "It's a worthy idea... but I don't like the idea of entering a Vault totally blind. Send out a party, see if there's anything in Vault-Tec Headquarters about Vault 113."

Another raider, a woman with patchy hair with metal, talon-like fingernails named Therese, chimed in. "I took the liberty of having a chat with our friends in Paradise Falls, after a little trade of merchandise, they ripped out the hard drive of some server at Vault-Tec HQ. Mitnik hooked it up to the terminal here, and it seems to be all the information they had on record about Vault 113."

Camilla turned to Therese and nodded in approval "I'm impressed, I'll have to add a bonus to your next pay, what did it say?"

Therese pulled some assorted papers and a holotape out of her pocket ''"Not very much, I'm afraid. It's not clear if the data was censored or just degraded over time, We've compressed the information onto this holotape for your personal review"

Camilla inserted the holotape into her Pip-Boy, she'd looted it off the corpse of one of the many wide-eyed and naïve Vault dwellers flooding into the wasteland as of late.

"Not much is there..." Camilla said, scanning the file, flicking buttons on her Pip-Boy to scroll up and down the file.

Therese rifled through the papers she had "Regrettably not, however I think they show well enough that we have nothing to fear from that Vault."

Camilla stopped scrolling her Pip-Boy and glared at Therese, who quickly cleared her throat and added "However it might be wise to send out a larger crew, just to be careful"

Therese looked toward Camilla expectantly, as did Seb and the others sat at the table. Camilla sighed and lowered her Pip-Boy "No..." she said, exacerbated "I'll head up a standard-sized team myself. I'd like to make sure first-hand that we don't fuck up..."

Camilla stood up, "Seb, Assemble a crew for me. Therese, ask Max to get us a Fat Man. I'm going to pull my Power Armor out of storage. I don't want to risk getting that close to The Pitt without being armed to the teeth..." she said "The rest of you; hold the fort, maintain operations..."

Chapter 1 - The First Step
Camilla began her final preparations. After a week of whittling down options, she had decided on a team of 3 others to accompany her. Camilla herself was going to take point in her set of T-60 Power Armor, behind her would be Therese who would serve as muscle, followed by Seb who would impart his knowledge as an ex-Vault Dweller, and finally Mitnik who would impart technical knowledge. The plan was to arrive at Vault 113, locate the water purifier within the Vault, and set up a temporary base there for Camilla, Seb, and Mitnik to appraise and dismantle the purifier, with Therese guarding them against any threats, after which they would purchase a Pack Brahmin, and use it to bring the supplies back. But first, they had to arrive there.

"...so make sure not to miss that.. Oh, and we have a meeting with Crater planned next Wednesday, they're not a hard crowd to please, just assure them their deliveries are coming on time and give them a chem or two in tribute if you have to." Said Camilla, finishing a long list of instructions to be performed in her absence.

Max nodded in response "Consider it done." he said, in his usual, almost serpent-like tone.

Camilla, finally assured that she had left the Water Concern in safe hands, stepped into her Power Armor. It was as uncomfortable as ever, the once soft cushioning that rested against her body had long since worn away over centuries of neglect after the war, leaving only the uncomfortable metal of the chassis to sit against her skin. It was a small price to pay for protection, she thought. The three waved their goodbyes and walked the small distance south to the main road, before heading due west towards Crater. Camilla had considered walking as-the-crow-flies towards Mount Pleasant, however she decided it would be safer to head from Crater to Mount Pleasant, considering the lands outside of the Appalachian Wasteland were uncharted, and walking through uncharted territory close to The Pitt was effectively asking to be attacked by some heretofore unknown mutant abomination. It was not long after departing, that the group found themselves at the Red Rocket Mega Stop.

Camilla stopped. "Wait..." she muttered, gesturing silently at the others to keep back and look. Over on the horizon, A lone sentry turret was scanning the area.

"Someone must've set up shop at the Mega Stop again..." whispered Seb, squinting to see if he could get a closer look.

"Yep... We should do a little reconnaissance, a base this close to home could be bad news for the bus-" began Camilla, before getting cut off by a single bullet pinging off her Power Armor's right arm.

"My reconnaissance says they're not friendly" said Therese, putting her hip flask away and assuming her characteristic bestial combat stance.

Seb drew his rifle and gave an annoyed sigh "Wouldn't be the first person we've killed for being in our way...".

Mitnik stayed back, taking cover behind a nearby hunk of rubble, examining the area on his Pip-Boy for any possible edge he could give his comrades. Therese ran up towards the Mega Stop, identifying and attacking the group of enemies head-on. Seb was a short distance behind, firing his Plasma rifle from a medium range. Camilla was at a range, using her Lever-action rifle to take precise shots at anyone behind Therese who might otherwise get a lucky shot on her. Mitnick lowered his Pip-Boy and picked up his radio.

"Camilla!" he said, his voice ringing out through the internal speakers in Camilla's power armor. "There's still fuel in the centremost pump, take a shot at it!"

Camilla smirked "You never fail me, Mitnik." she said, as she chambered a round and took a knee to steady her aim.

Therese was about to weave between the fuel pumps, she would take the shot once Therese passed by them, and the enemies followed her. Camilla removed her Power Armor Helmet to take a hit of Jet, and held her breath. Time slowed to a crawl and she witnessed Therese sprint past the fuel pumps. Camilla stared intensely. A little more, a little more, a little mo-NOW. Camilla squeezed down on the trigger, the gunshot echoing out as the bullet soared through the air, making a direct hit on the fuel pump. The explosion erupted out, blossoming out like a flower as the fire consumed the remaining enemies in one fell swoop.

Camilla lowered her rifle as the Jet wore off, blurring her vision and giving her a brief but shooting headache. She winced as she reflexively pressed against her temples.

"You alright Therese?" she said, regaining her composure, "Didn't singe you did I?"

Therese stretched in response "Hm? Oh yeah sure, think I chipped a nail back there." she said, mockingly. Camilla gave a wry smile as she rose to her feet.

"Well, maybe someone at Crater is selling a nail file." she joked. Therese scoffed, and Seb rolled his eyes

"If you're going to be like this the whole journey, I fear for my sanity" he said, half-jokingly, as he holstered his Rifle and motioned at them to keep moving.

The team continued down the main road, snaking around a small cliff and passing by the Sunnytop Ski Lodge. In due time, they arrived at the most difficult part of this leg of their journey; the Palace of the Winding Path. Not because of any hostiles or rads, but because of one, large and sheer cliff-face. Each member of the team had devised their own way of traversing this obstacle. Camilla would simply rely on the hydraulics in her Power Armor's legs to cushion the fall, she had made sure to quadruple check the functionality and load-baring capacity of the hydraulics before departing, and was confident it would work. Seb would carefully climb down, being familiar with the hobby of rock-climbing from his days in the Vault, which had numerous rock climbing walls he would frequent every so often for his mandatory 30 minutes of daily exercise. Mitnik had bought a very torn-down Mr. Handy in his rucksack, the Handy lacked a large amount of it's internal AI circuitry, but was still fully capable, meaning Mitnik could use the Handy's thruster to offset gravity and gently hover down while holding him. Therese would simply use her unique nails as ice-picks, breaking through and hooking into the rock-face bit-by-bit as she moved down the cliff. The whole process went off without issue; Camilla's Power Armor successfully cushioned the fall with only minor pain and no serious injuries, allowing her to touch ground in Toxic Valley before anyone else. After a short period, Mitnik floated down, his Mr Handy proved more unruly than planned, attempting to skew off to one side or the other, but was nonetheless successful. Therese arrived next, her metal-composite nails covered in sweat and rock dust, but intact. Lastly, Seb meandered his way down the cliff and onto the ground, his "slow and steady" approach resulting in zero hiccups, minus the speed. The group could hear the Dick Shale monologue about Philippi Battlefield Cemetery in the distance, the button stuck presumably after years of blood and soot glued it down. They took a quick breather and drank some of the rations of purifier water they had bought, before taking the short path north, and arriving at Crater.

This wasn't Camilla's first visit at Crater, not by a long shot, and the same applied for the rest of the group. Some raiders walked upto Camilla and inquired as to the time the next water shipment would arrive, but she just dismissed them. The group agreed to take an hour to restock their ammo and other personal supplies, and to meet back up at the entrance to the Crater core to depart for Uniontown. Camilla stocked up her .45 rounds and took to patching up her Power Armor, purchasing miscellaneous supplies from junk merchants to do so. Mitnik purchased a bulk stock of blank holotapes scavenged from Sugar Grove. Therese called in a few favours and had her nails imbued with Ultracite, which would give her already razor-sharp nails a deadly, radioactive edge. Seb simply purchased small items from each store as an excuse to strike up conversation and ingratiate himself with the store owners. After an hour, the four met up and, saying their goodbyes, left the Appalachian Wasteland for uncharted regions.

Next stop; Uniontown.

Chapter 2 - Strictly Business
The journey further north, while short, was gruelling. It seemed to the group almost as if the sky was beginning to shift from it's somewhat-clear blue to a muddy rust orange, the diseased sky a sure sign that they were starting to encroach on lands surrounding The Pitt. Camilla put her Power Armor helmet back on in response to this, and the others either slipped on gas masks or wrapped bandanas around their face. Feral Ghouls in these uncharted areas were plentiful, many of them laying prone for presumably decades, lurching up once they sensed motion. Defeating them was far from a challenging task, Therese was able to swipe them away using her claws as they went, and the others were able to take shots at them without even having to stop moving, their combined efforts cutting a swathe through the hoards of almost-dead. They didn't encounter any other life, the uncharted expanse being too risky for any settlers or traders to traverse, and those that did hadn't lasted long. It was when they began to encroach on the outskirts of Uniontown, their first checkpoint, that the ghouls started to thin out. The group decided to rest up a moment before going any further, and decided to dip into a nearby pre-war building, an old roller rink evidentially, judging by the old sign outside reading "Shawnessy Skating". The group opened the door to see a very simple roller rink taking up a majority of the inside, with a small section directly infront of the door containing seats and tables to be used by spectators or skaters eating a quick lunch.

"Looks like a birthday party..." said Camilla, exiting her Power Armor and stretching, before pointing towards a table on the end of the seating area. It was surrounded by the deflated remains of cheap, foil balloons with lettering on that had almost been lost completely to age, but could still be read "Happy 4th Birthday Jean". The table itself was adorned with presents and pizza boxes, the cardboard in both long since turning limp from age and moisture, leaving them also looking rather deflated. But what stole the show was a 3-teired cake sitting in the middle of the table, even after all the decades since the Great War, the advanced preservatives and additives in the cake had kept it looking as if the Great War was just yesterday.

"Ooh, hello..." said Seb, pulling his bandana down and eying up the cake, he seemed like he was just about to help himself when Mitnik spoke up.

"W-Wait!" he said "We're probably not gonna see anything so perfectly preserved in our lives, we should ration it, the food here might last us the whole trip." Seb scowled at Mitnik, angry that he'd stopped him from digging in.

"And how exactly do you suppose we transport a whole cake, huh?" spat Seb, straightening up and puffing out his chest, clearly attempting to intimidate Mitnik. There was a tense silence for a moment, before a Super Sledge slammed down cleanly between the two.

"IF... You two are both finished..." said Camilla through gritted teeth, pulling her Super Sledge back up before taking a breath "...We'll sell it in Uniontown. Caps are easier to carry, and it's always good to have more." Camilla shot a glare at Seb "That is an order."

There was another brief, though even more tense silence, before Seb begrudgingly accepted and walked away from the cake to instead rifle through some of the old bags and suitcases left by Pre-war skaters. Camilla turned to Therese, who up until now had remained silent the whole time. She had zoned out, staring bullets into one of the foil balloons on the ground.

"...Uh... Therese...?" said Camilla, waving her hand in order to try and rouse Therese's attention. Therese blinked and shook her head, snapping out of it.

"S-Sorry... Its just that... these balloons... My s-" began Therese, before stopping herself and changing topic, she pointed to the cake. "How are we gonna transport that thing? We might be pretty close to Uniontown, but it's still a walk away."

It was then when Mitnik spoke up "We can use the Handy I've got in my backpack. It's how we're going to bring the purifier back home, so its gyroscopic controls and load bearing capacity are more than upto scratch for a cake. " he said, before turning to Camilla "If we do though, I'll need some caps to purchase more fuel for the thing, or it'll run out before we make it back with the purifier."

Camilla gave a thumbs up, and tossed Mitnik a small bag of caps. "Didn't your toy nearly flip the wrong way round when you were descending that cliff?" questioned Seb, eyeing up Mitnik as he took the Handy out of his backpack and began turning it on.

"That was because I was hanging off one one side. Humans move in little ways that throw off balance at the best of times. In terms of the purifier and this cake, I'm certain if I secure it properly then it'll stay perfectly upright" explained Mitnik, flicking switches on his Pip-Boy as he performed a calibration routine.

While Mitnik was calibrating the Handy, Camilla and Therese looked around the roller rink to see if there was anything else worth looting, only to turn up emptyhanded. The group still stayed there for a small time though, to rest up and eat after getting through the worst of the Ghouls on the path to Uniontown. They were just about an hour or so away from Uniontown, where they would put up for the night and restock. What they would find there however, would lead them on a tangent that would have implications spanning hundreds of years...

Chapter 3 - Nobody Needs a Uniontown for That
It was not a long walk from the roller rink to Uniontown. Mitnik's handy was able to keep the cake upright for the remainder of the trip, and only a couple more feral ghouls had to be fought off on the way. Upon arriving into Uniontown, the settlers were aghast that someone had not only made it all the way through the wilds south of them, but also that they had brought a large, perfectly preserved cake with them. Camilla could not have asked for a more imposing entrance short of razing the town to the ground. Camilla and the rest of the team ignored the attention, walking straight towards a small building with the symbol of a dollar drawn on a chalkboard outside, presumably the town's general store. The store clerk almost fell out of his chair when the group entered.

"Hey, shopkeep" Therese said, slamming her palms on the table. She then pointed behind her towards the cake that was secured atop the Mr. Handy. "What can you fetch me for this? Genuine pre-war cake. One of a kind."

The store clerk couldn't believe his eyes, and spluttered for a moment with his mouth agape. "I-I-I-Uhhhhh, 300 caps?"

Therese raised an eyebrow, and leaned over the store counter, positioning herself almost nose-to-nose with the clerk, who leaned back reflexively. "What was that?" she whispered "1300 caps?" The store clerk nodded rapidly.

Therese leaned back and smiled widely "Pleasure doing business with you!" she said "Mitnik! Unsecure the cake from your tin can."

The exchange took about 15 minutes, with Mitnick delicately unstrapping and unloading the cake and transferring it to the counter. But, after the sale, the group exited 1300 caps richer, and...

"Hey, check it" whispered Seb, drawing a 32. Magnum from his inside jacket pocket, something he did not have before "Fully loaded, also managed to take a couple boxes of Fancy Lads for my lunch"

Camilla grinned "Impressive, but that's nothing" she said, taking the left leg armor off of her power armor and shaking it out into her palm. As she shakes it, a 12.7mm pistol, 12.7mm ammo, and 4 Stimpaks fall out.

Seb is taken aback "What th-how...." he rubs his eyes in disbelief "How the fuck did you manage to steal that inside that big fuckoff suit of power armor?!" he said, half-whispering half-shouting, trying to contain himself so that the townsfolk aren't alerted to their thievery.

"That's my little secret" smirked Camilla, before turning to Therese, who handed her the earnings from their latest sale "Plus, Therese here has a powerful enough presence to offset even this big steel suit" said Camilla, handing Therese a smaller, though still sizeable, bag of caps in payment.

"Tsk. Fine, keep your secrets." grumbled Seb "Anyway, we need to find a place to set down for the night, did you see a hotel on the way here?"

Camilla surveyed her surroundings, she hadn't had the chance to on their way in as she was too focused on getting payment for the cake to take note. Uniontown was slightly smaller than Foundation, roughly 7/8ths the size she would estimate. However instead of log structures, the citizens of Uniontown lived inside blasted-out buildings that seemed as if they would protect them as much as they would fall right in on them, evidenced by the fact the borders of town were marked by walls made of rubble from the very same blasted-out buildings. After observing for a couple minutes, she spied two buildings that most of the townsfolk seemed to frequent; An old church in the centre of town, and an old school nearby.

Camilla first looked into the Church. Inside was a large open room with a hardwood floor, the walls were lined with filing cabinets, except for one small corner which had a worn sofa with a coffee table and a lamp. Up against the back of the wall where the lectern would otherwise have been was a desk, where a sharply dressed woman was sitting and using a terminal. Beside her was a metal door, thick and locked, that Camilla assumed lead up to the upper floor. The overhanging balcony of the upper floor would provide a view over all of the bottom floor, and from what little Camilla could see looking up from the doorway, the upper floor was decorated with fancy (though still torn) drapes, and fine portraits. It was an easy assumption for Camilla to make that this was some kind of town hall or mayor's office of sorts.

Checking out the high school instead, in what was once probably the main entryway leading down the central corridor, was tables and chairs adorned with bottles and ashtrays. Sequestered in a hole knocked out from a row of lockers was a Jukebox that seemed to be playing Appalachia Radio, albeit at this distance the signal was more static than song. The reception desk appeared to have been converted into a bar, with the filing cabinets on the wall behind converted into shelves for an assortment of liqueurs, spirits, and ales. Definately a bar of some kind. Camilla and the group walked into the bar, light smoke and dust from the crumbling walls and cigarette smoke circling around the air, and approached the bar counter. A droopy eyed, ghoul scrubbing a glass behind the counter stopped and looked up at them from the corner of his eye. "Whatdya need?" he grunted.

Camilla leaned against the counter, and 'turned on the charm' "Hey friend, don't happen to know where abouts we could spot a room to lay down in, would you?" she said, smiling. The bald man squinted at her, trying to size her up.

"Nope." he grunted, before returning to cleaning the glass. Camilla was taken aback, it was the first time in a long time that her salesmanship hadn't worked, such insolence couldn't be abided, especially around her subordinates. Camilla clenched her fists and pounded the desk, the force of her Power Armor causing the empty bottles on the bar counter to clink against eachother. The ghoul looked up in response, his eyes slightly wider but still droopy and uncaring.

"Listen here you walking pile of necrosis, you're going to give me a beer, you're going to give me and my friends a room to stay in, and you're going to give it us on a discount as way of apologising for being an insufferably rude c-" Camilla yelled, before a hand gripped her Power Armored shoulder and cut her off. Spinning around to see, Camilla saw two men in armored vests and security visors indicating that she should leave. Behind them was a bar full of shocked citizens paused in fear at the uproar that had occurred before them. Camilla was about to reach for her lever action when a hearty booming voice came from the doorway.

"Glenn! You're not giving our visitors a hard time again are you?" he said, Camilla turned to the doorway to see a large man with a large ginger beard and bedraggled hair, wearing a sharp grey suit and maroon tie. She could see the man carried himself with importance, similar to herself. The man turned to Camilla, noticably wary but noticably not scared. "Terribly sorry there! Glenn's a fine chap, but he's never gotten along with visitors to our humble little patch!" the man's voice roared "My name is Boris, Boris Wheatcroft, though the folks around here just call me Big Boris, I'm the mayor around here" he said, extending his hand to Camilla.

Camilla calmed down. Rationally speaking, she would get alot more out of this new connection to the upper echelons of Uniontown than she would smashing the local drinking hole into a thousand little pieces. Camilla took a beat and exhaled, before smiling and shaking Boris's hand. "Some civility, finally. My name is Camilla, me and my crew here are just passing through from Appalachia"

Boris was taken aback, and gave a hearty chuckle "Appalachia you say? You must have had quite a time getting here, what with all the feral ghouls and such." Boris turned to Glenn "Glenn, old chap, give the fine folks a room! And a drink. Give 'em the employee discount, and charge the difference to my office!" Glenn grunted and nodded in response, before Boris turned back to Camilla "All settled! Now, if you need anything else, don't be afraid to pop by my office in the old Church nearby, I'll tell my receptionist to let you by!" Boris smiled.

Camilla smiled in response "Good to hear. Thank you, Mr. Boris" she said, Boris raised his hand and gave a short wave "Now, I only popped in for a quick beer, I must be getting back to my duties. I'll be seeing you around! Oh, and welcome to Uniontown!" he said, before Glenn wordlessly put a beer on the counter, which Boris grabbed as he walked out, with a spring in his step. Glenn turned to Camilla, scowling.

"Fine. Mayor says I gotta serve you. A room is 150 caps, and a beer is 7 caps." the ghoul growled, spitting in the glass he was scrubbing to help shine it "For you, a Room is 125 caps, and a beer is 5 caps." Camilla gave Glenn a fully intentional shit-eating grin, as she slid the ghoul 130 caps. The ghoul grumbled crotchetily as he slammed a beer and a key onto the counter "Room 3b, One night" he said, before returning to scrubbing his beer glass and muttering under his breath. Camilla grabbed both and span the keys around on her finger smugly, waltzing down the corridor to her room.

The room was humble, clearly one of the pre-war classrooms, with a diving wall built down the centre to turn it into two rooms. The only things from the original room that seemed to remain was the chalkboard on the wall near the door, and a couple of old desks and chairs that serve as the rooms dining table. Even the bed seemed to be made of two school tables put next to eachother, with the legs sawn off to shorten them to a more acceptable hight for a bed, and a few moth-eaten blankets thrown on top for warmth and comfort. The walls appeared to have once been painted yellow, though time had worn it away to it's base concrete; and the floors were some kind of cheap varnished wood, and while most of the varnish seemed to have worn away over the decades, the floor was still in one piece. A bathroom sink also seemed to have been installed by the building's post-war occupents, an industrial-style faucet attached to an exposed pipe in the wall, which had clearly been accessed by means of a sledgehammer. A toilet however had not been provided, Camilla assumed that they were expected to still use the old pre-war toilets in the school bathrooms.

Camilla stowed her Power Armor, while the group had managed to beat off the ferals, it had taken a beating from the onslaught. She would spend what little free time she had during their respite repairing it. Plus, lumbering about in Power Armor is an easy way to get noticed, and people tended to respond worse to persuasive techniques when they were done through plates of impenetrable steel. And besides, she was unlikely to get into any degree of combat within the town walls that would warrant use of Power Armor. Along with that, Mitnik stored his Handy in the room. While lightweight thanks to his modifications, it was still quite the weight to carry around. It was now the late afternoon, and the poisoned orange sky was starting to look slightly oranger. Therese was helping herself to drinks at the bar, which Camilla had learnt was called "The Schoolhaus". Mitnik had gone back to tweaking his Handy in the room they had rented (Camilla also suggested he fix up her Power Armor if he had the time). Seb however had skulked off to who knows where, as tended to be his want whenever he was given free time. Camilla elected to take a more detailed measure of her surroundings.

The town itself, while mainly centred around the walled section, had some buildings extending out of it. The walled section seemed to be the pre-war town centre, which consisted of a Library, a church, a hospital, a fire station, and a couple Parks. Some of these pre-war structures seemed to have been repurposed by the townsfolk; the church becoming the town hall, the hospital becoming the town clinic, and the fire station becoming home to the town's security force. Outside of the walls were a loose collection of chem dealers, and stores of less repute than those within the town walls. Camilla spent the free time she had prospecting, idly digging through some of the less intact buildings in and around Uniontown, finding bits and pieces of varying degrees of value, from tin cans to spare ammo. It was after exploring one of these ruins on the edge of town and coming back into town proper that Camilla was confronted by a man in what seemed to be a whitecoat. The sun had begun to set and Camilla's Pip-Boy said it was about 8:35pm, so expecting to get jumped, Camilla hovered her finger over the trigger on her lever action (Gun safety be damned), preparing at any moment to swing it around and open fire.

"E-Excuse me, as I understand it, you're the leader of the group of ruffians that came into town recently?" he inquired, in a way that was perhaps the exact opposite of threatening, twiddling his thumbs and seeming skittish.

Camilla, not about to get hustled, kept her trigger finger ready. "Yes." She said bluntly, wanting to see what this fool wanted from her, and darting her eyes around to make sure there were no others waiting to jump her. She decided the insult of calling her a "ruffian" was so ridiculously minor that she wasn't about to bother correcting someone that she, in all probability, was about to correct with a bullet instead.

"A-Ah, yes, good, quite..." said the man, clearly not the intimidating sort, "S-See, I represent a certain... Oh, how do I phrase this..." he shut his eyes and hit himself against the head lightly, trying to stimulate his mind. Camilla rolled her eyes.

"How about you start with what you want from me..." said Camilla, getting impatient with the man. She wasn't about to turn away potential business if it would earn her caps, or ruin her little friendship with the mayor by opening fire in the middle of his town without good cause, however she wasn't above doing so and lying about it if the man was about to waste her time any further.

"Ah, yes, right, well you see, I've got a... friend...." the man began, clearly dancing around his words "...And my friend is... lost. I need some help finding him, some of the more... shooty, muscle-bound help..." he said, looking at Camilla expectantly.

This wasn't Camilla's first rodeo, nor was it her second. In-fact, she was deftly experienced in matters of discretion such as these. The way the man was speaking was not unfamiliar to her, it was a manner very akin to one that some of her contacts in the Capitol were want to use. The man was trying to look for help reclaiming a lost slave; a practise that, given the coded speech was probably and unsurprisingly, a frowned-upon practise in Uniontown. Camilla lowered her rifle, but did not stow it yet.

"Ahh, I see." she said, taking a glance at her Pip-Boy, which detected no others in the immediate vicinity. "So your... Friend. When did you last see him? Does he have any identifying characteristics..." she began "...and above all..." she said, as she stepped towards the man "What is this worth to you?". Camilla was perfectly fine with relocating this man's slave, however she was not about to work for free. In-fact, work concerning slaves tended to err on the 'well paying' side of things, on account that good confidential and morally unscrupulous help tended to be hard to find, and Camilla was more than willing to take this man for all he had.

The man straightened up, clearly less nervous now that his job had been accepted and that the discussion had moved to a more number-oriented front "Ah, well, Caps are no issue for me and my colleagues, we would be happy to pay you 1500 caps for your trouble" the man said, wringing his hands. Camilla would have been happy with this price, but the man had made the mistake of letting it slip that caps were no issue for him, and so she began her negotiations.

"1500, you say? I dunno.... Is that really all your... friend, is worth to you?" Camilla said, pretending to consider the offer and pretending to be unconvinced. The man's eyes widened as he panicked slightly.

"W-Wait, Okay, how about 2500? No, 3500!" he hastily said, eager to broker a deal. Camilla gave an wry smirk, this man was clearly no salesman, it didn't even require greasing the gears too much for him to almost double his offer. She might be able to negotiate even more from him when she had his slave by her side, she remembered doing something similar back in '08 to great success...

"Well." She said, holstering her rifle and putting her arm around the nervous man, who flinched in response.

"Tell me about your friend..."

Chapter 4 - Hunter/Hunted
Camilla stared at the man with incredulity. He had told her that he would have to confer with his colleagues before divulging any information about his slave, and escorted Camilla to the old WGNR radio building bordering Uniontown's walls. The building looked as decrepit as any of the other buildings Camilla had scavenged in, when the pair stopped just outside of the broadcast studio.

"Please, wait here." said the man, indicating to a mouldering red sofa chair beside the door, adorned with scraps of what once must have been tabloid journals and gossip magazines. Camilla was about to turn to the man and tell him exactly where he could shove his sorry excuse for hospitality, only to find that he had already entered the room and left her.

She heard talking behind the door, there was a group of other people on the other side, but Camilla couldn't make out how many or what they were saying, no matter how hard she pressed her ear against the wall. The cadence of the conversation seemed to be serious. Suddenly, the voices escalated to a shout, before stopping. A couple minutes after that, the man stepped out of the door, looking rather sheepish.

"We've contacted our superiors back east." he said, wringing his hands once again ''"The Director has authorised us to hire you to hunt our property, but she has declined our request to inform you as to the specifics of our research... Which would include specifics about the friend I want you to find..." ''

Camilla stood up. She wasn't too pleased with this arrangement, but a paying job was a paying job, and she didn't care too greatly about any other details. Speaking of a paying job however...

"Ahhhh, well, damn that changes things..." lied Camilla, faking an awkward look "If I need to put in more effort to track your friend down, then there's the tiny issue of additional expenses..."

Once again, the man fell for the trick hook, line and sinker. "Ah-Wait! We, eheh-umm... H-How much more will you need?" he said, just as skittish as before.

Here was where Camilla was about to pull out the big guns; she'd learnt about these kinds of advanced salesmanship techniques from a trader who, quite unrelatedly, had to be picked out the teeth of a Deathclaw shortly after meeting her.

"Jeez, let me see..." she said, feigning being in thought "Maybe... 7000 caps...?". Camilla waited for the man to refuse her, after all why wouldn't he. This was part of the trick, A ludicrous request followed by a slightly more reasonable one, that way even if the second request is alot, it seems better in comparison. Imagine her surprise, when her first offer was accepted...

"Sure!" said the man, not even taking a beat to consider the offer. Camilla silently raised an eyebrow, she'd understood folks being desperate to get their slaves back before, but at the rate this whitecoated freak was thinking of paying just for expenses, he could probably just buy more instead... She decided not to ask the obvious question, because she knew she would likely be met with excuses to the tone of "Classified" and "Top Secret"...

"How do I know you're good for it?" she asked, suspiciously. The man thought for a moment, the air was tense, before indicating to her to wait for a moment, before re-entering the room. It took surprisingly little time for him to exit the room with a surprisingly large bag, which he handed to Camilla. She could scarcely believe her eyes.

"Our uh, contacts back home were briefed of the customs of this area of America..." he explained "W-We found out that bottlecaps had become the primary form of currency, so we made preparations before we left..." Camilla counted, 7000 caps exactly. This amount of money and this desperation made one thing clear; this could be a suicide mission.

Camilla sighed, they were obviously trying to put one over on her, but she wasn't about to refuse a payday this good... ''""Well, does your property have any distinctive markings, any tattoos? unique haircut?"'' she said, trying to pry information. She man once more looked sheepish.

"Yes and no.... That'd be another classified point..." he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly "What I can say is that my property is very distinctive, you'll immediately know when you find it..." Camilla closed her eyes, partially in thought and partially in frustration. "So... Kinda guy that'd look out of place anywhere then...?" asked Camilla. The man nodded.

As night turned to morning, Camilla hit the streets. Once upon a time, policemen would have access to powerful computers linked up to a network of cameras to help them find suspects, and a different computer to help them track the smallest details of a person like their fingerprints. Camilla had no such luxuries. All she had was her Pip-boy, and her charisma. In practise, this wasn't all that different from negotiating a deal; people had something she wanted, information, and she had to put the screws to them in order to get it. Normally she would hit the bar, bartenders were a hidden goldmine of information in her experience, a few caps in the right drinking hole could allow one to unlock the secrets of the universe... However, Camilla remembered she had not exactly left a good impression on the local bartender on their last encounter... Although, she had ended up leaving a good impression on someone else...

Camilla walked into the church in the centre of town. She wondered how well the average populous is treated when the mayor lives in such relative luxury. She was barely able to get a couple words out to the receptionist before the mayor came out. "Ahah, our new friend, welcome! Welcome!" boomed Big Boris, before turning to his receptionist "Jezebel! Pour my friend here some tea, would you?". The woman, presumably called Jezebel, wordlessly stood up from her desk and went into the back room. The amount of wordless compliance that this mayor had was almost creepy, no innocent man would demand this degree of respect... or fear... right? Camilla dismissed the thought for another time, as Boris lead her up to his office. It seemed to once have been a sizeable balcony, and overlooked the bottom floor of the church. The walls had ornate red wallpaper (with fine wood panelling), and was decorated with drapes and fanciful paintings. Around the rest of the office was wooden furniture that seemed almost unscathed by the Great War, including a sizeable wooden desk up against one of the walls that Camilla suspected would once have been worth quite the pretty penny before the war.

"Now!" said Big Boris, sitting at his desk, and gesturing to another chair on the other side of it. <font color="#db3e00">"What can I do for you?" Camilla took her seat gingerly, and leaned back in it. She needed something from the Mayor for certain, however she was not about to put herself in a point of weakness. No, she had to maintain some form of intimidating presence, and acting extremely relaxed and at-ease while requesting seemed to be the way to go about this.

"Well Mayor..." she began, putting her hands behind her head and leaning slightly further back in her chair, staring into the distance "I'm trying to find someone that might have come into your town recently. Someone distinctive." Camilla said, intentionally avoiding eye contact with the Mayor in order to try and further convey her presence.

Despite this fact however, Camilla could see in her peripheral vision that Boris was stunned by this request, and was sweating a little. <font color="#db3e00">"A-A person you say...? Well let me think... what does he look like...?" Stammered the Mayor, clearly out of his comfort zone. Camilla could tell he knew what she wanted, this was all a game, a pretence of being unaware.

"Yep. Well, this fella I'm looking for, lets just say he's not exactly the type you're gonna miss." said Camilla, still doing her best to look at-ease despite the fact the conversation had become so tense that you could hear a pin drop. A couple moments passed in absolute silence, before Jezebel entered the room, carrying a tray of tea. <font color="#db3e00">"A-Ah! T-Thank you Jezebel!" stuttered Boris, happy to have an excuse to change the subject.

<font color="#db3e00">"Have you tried any of the local tea yet? The Bloodleafs grow unusually flavorful in this area of the wastes; some think it's the minerals in the soil, I'm not sure myself" boomed the Mayor, pouring himself a cup. Camilla squinted. She'd heard of old techniques that Chinese spies before the war used to use (she kept a mental note of all kinds of techniques in-case she ever needed to use them herself), where they would have a secret compartment in their teapots that could be used to pour two or more cups of tea in the same motion, and inconspicuously slip poison into only one of them.

Maybe the Mayor didn't have one of these special teapots, maybe she was being paranoid, but a man who commands such respect must have earnt it somehow... Camilla decided to play the power-move; she leaned forward and grabbed the cup furthest from her, the one that was clearly supposed to be the Mayor's. She was about to raise her cup when she considered; had this been the plan, had the Mayor poisoned his own cup, expecting her to take it instead...? Was the Mayor the sort of man who would put poison into his own cup, or someone else's...? Only a great fool would take the one presented to them, unless that's what the Mayor had counted on that fact... No. Camilla dismissed it. Such a thought would be inconceivable.... right?

Camilla did not drink, just to be careful, and decided it was worth risking her position to make eye contact with the mayor. He did not look surprised, but he did not look at ease either. It was time to change that once more. "So." pressed Camilla "About this stranger we were speaking of." She shot Boris a glare that caused him to jump slightly, almost spilling his tea, which he too had not yet touched.

<font color="#db3e00">"A-Ah, um... A stranger you say? Yes uh well... I'm afraid I've not seen anyone excessively distinctive entering town other than yourself, my dear!" He boomed, clearly trying to hold his nerve. Camilla tutted, this was clearly not going anywhere. She placed her undrunk tea down on the desk, and stood up.

"Well, thank you for your help Mayor..." Camilla said coldly "If you happen to remember anything, it would be most helpful." she then walked out, the mayor simply staring at her as she did so. Camilla however was not about to back down, she was going to walk outside and lean against the wall of the church's entryway. The Mayor knew, that much was obvious, now all she had to do was wait for Boris to leave the place, and make contact with whoever this stranger was to warn them they were being pursued... However, before Camilla had the opportunity to follow through with this plan, she was confronted by Jezebel.

<font color="#c20072">"Excuse me, miss?" she whispered. Camilla jumped slightly and silently cursed herself, to be startled so easily, she must be getting sloppy... She quickly composed herself before glaring at Jezebel.

"What do you want?" spat Camilla, if Jezebel wanted something from her, she'd made a terrible decision by jumping her like that. Jezebel dipped slightly further out of the sight of the Church's doorway. <font color="#c20072">"I understand you're looking for the weird... thing, that came into town recently? I can help you with that." she whispered. Camilla raised an eyebrow, but was not about to look a gift-brahmin in the mouth. Camilla wrapped her arm around Jezebel and shot her a smile. "Let's talk somewhere quieter, no?" whispered Camilla, escorting Jezebel to a nearby alleyway.

"So. What do you know?" pressed Camilla. She didn't use the fullest of her talents quite yet, she could tell Jezebel was jumpy and somewhat uneasy about the situation, and scaring her off wasn't something Camilla wanted to do. Jezebel straightened up slightly and exhaled, calming herself down slightly, before explaining. <font color="#c20072">"Well, It all started about a week ago, a group of three folks walked into town; two of them lookin' like guards or mercs or somethin', and the other being your weird looking friend..." she began <font color="#c20072">"They set up in one of the abandoned factories on the east side of town... But the weird thing is, over the past week, more and more folks have been joining them, some of them even townsfolk!" Said Jezebel, making sure to whisper the part about the townsfolk quieter, but with emphasis <font color="#c20072">''"Now we've got a small army of folks set up over there, armed to the teeth and patrolling the alleyways during the day! I think the Mayor is scared of being assassinated if he speaks up, but we can't just let a bunch of hoodlums have reign over the town, right?" ''

Camilla internally scoffed at that last part; she'd been described as a hoodlum reigning over a town before (albeit in much more unsavory terms). It wasn't above her to probably do worse than what this little militia was doing. Still, it was bad practice to shoot potential customers, a lesson that it took surprisingly long for her to teach the raiders she tended to recruit, so she wasn't about to take over this little patch quite yet. "You've been a great help Jezebel. Thank you" Said Camilla, reaching into her pocket and sliding Jezebel a bag of caps; a meagre amount, but an amount she suspected Jezebel would appreciate none-the-less. "Take care of yourself." said Camilla, beginning to walk away, before stopping in her tracks "Oh, just one more thing..." she remembered, turning around. She didn't actually even know what her target looked like yet did she? The scientist hadn't exactly been forthcoming, but Jezebel had no reason to hide anything. "What does our strange friend actually look like?" said Camilla.

Jezebel looked taken aback at Camilla's lack of knowledge, but answered regardless <font color="#c20072">"I-I'm not quite sure to be truthful..." whispered Jezebel <font color="#c20072">"The guy walked into town with a fedora and a massive trenchcoat... Didn't even hear him speak a word... All I made out was his chin and his body-type...." she said. Camilla looked at Jezebel expectantly, and Jezebel continued <font color="#c20072">"Well, his skin was the palest I've ever seen, I figure he might be anaemic or something... and he was... thin. Dangerously so, he looked very sickly in general, I wonder if he might have been a slave that was just underfed, or some kind of ghoul..." Jezebel trailed off. Camilla shot her a smile "Thank you. Again, you've been very helpful." said Camilla, before exiting the alleyway.

Her next stop, the east side of town. Or, it would be... She had just exited the alleyway when she heard a noise from behind her. A loud cracking noise. Camilla turned around to see if it was Jezebel, but as she whipped around, Camilla saw nothing but a warble in the air. A warble she saw for just a second, before she felt something hit the side of her head, hard, and she passed out.

An hour or so passed before Camilla re-awoke, laying on the hard ground inside some building. Sitting up and looking around, she saw she was in a large room; with brick walls, a sparse flat floor, and tall ceiling. This was a factory once-upon-a-time, that much was certain. Was it "the factory" that the person she was persuing was in? Camilla shook her head. It almost certainly was, after all she happened to only just hear about a specific factory, then she just happens to wake up in one? It would be a ridiculous coincidence if it weren't, she thought. Rising to her feet, she patted herself down. "Clothes? Yes... Caps? Yes... Guns? Guns...." Camilla patted more frantically. Shit... That Lever Action had cost her a fair deal of caps... It was only when she was cursing herself for being so easily rendered unconscious that five people entered the large room she was laying down in, all of them wearing combat armor and wielding plasma rifles. This was bad, she couldn't punch her way through five people, let alone five people with plasma rifles...

<font color="#4ac200">"The boss would like to see you." grunted the centremost member of the group, motioning Camilla to follow him. Her options limited, she decided to oblige. If they wanted her dead, they had already had the opportunity... Following the man through the factory floor and into a corridor the group of soldiers marched up to a door at the end, with a plaque on it that read "Foreman's Office", and knocked. A Metallic buzz rang out shortly after, as the lock on the door popped open, and forced itself ajar. The lead soldier motioned once more, indicating to Camilla to enter the room. She once again obliged. The Foreman's Office was small, but not too small. The door Camilla entered through was in one corner of the room, and the door to what looked like a bathroom was directly to her left. However the most notable feature of the room was a large curtain placed down the centre, obscuring her view of the other side of the room. She could however, see the silhouette of who she assumed to be the aforementioned "Boss", sat on the opposite side of the table. In no position to really do anything else, she sat at the opposite side of the desk, and as she did, the door buzzed again, locking itself.

<font color="#BDA009">"As I understand it... You've been looking for something..." sternly whispered out a voice from the opposite side of the curtain. It was peculiar and somewhat Ghoul-like in the way that it sounded 'kinda-sorta human', but there was also something else, a phlegm-ey quality that gave the voice a tinny feel. Camilla responded "Yes. I've been hired to find someone I suspect to be a slave, and bring them back to a scientist."

The ghoul-like voice gave a chuckle, it was almost menacing in a way, and the laugh only emphasised the voice's peculiar phlegm-iness. <font color="#BDA009">"Yes.... Yes I suppose that would be an apt comparison..." it said. The silhouette seemed to move somewhat strangely as it laughed, in a way Camilla couldn't describe. It then straightened its back, and Camilla could feel their eyes boreing into her. <font color="#BDA009">"I've watched you. Determined your motives. Caps, right?" Camilla raised an eyebrow, but leaned back in her chair and relaxed slightly. So this was a deal. It was hardly the first she'd made at gunpoint, metaphorical or otherwise; she didn't like to make deals this way, but caps are caps. "Yes. I'd say that's an apt assessment." said Camilla, bluntly. She didn't want to put herself in any weaker of a position than she already was by giving away details she didn't need to, knowledge is power after all... The silhouette gave another, smaller chuckle <font color="#BDA009">"Then I believe I have a counter offer for your services." they said. Camilla saw the silhouette lean forward. <font color="#BDA009">"Those scientists want something, and I don't want them to have it. In-fact, I want them gone. Name your price." the voice said. Camilla was taken aback, finally the first person she'd seen in this neck of the woods with some business-sense, and she relished the challenge. "Well, those scientists weren't exactly masters of trade; I pushed them to offer me 8000 caps in exchange for their property." she lied. They'd only gone as far as 7000, but she wanted room to bargain down if need-be.

The voice was silent for a moment, presumably considering the correct course of action. <font color="#BDA009">"In my possession, I have schematics for a bottlecap press." the voice said. Camilla was taken aback at this news. <font color="#BDA009">"It was made and built back where I came from by those same scientists you've been dealing with, you've seen the products of it with their offer." The silhouette leaned back in it's chair, clearly at-ease. Camilla cursed herself once more slightly, the boot was clearly on the other foot for once. <font color="#BDA009">"You deal with my problem; you get the schematic and whatever else you can steal from the scientists, including the caps they offered you."

Camilla was almost certain there was some trick, some con, some caveat to this arrangement... But, it wasn't as if she had been afraid of that before, and agreeing to it would give her a chance to satisfy her curiosity on something... "You've got yourself a deal." she said, standing up. In response, the silhouette also stood up, and grabbed the curtain, sliding it aside and revealing themself. Camilla couldn't believe her eyes, but it would account for alot...

Stood across from her was a skeletal figure in a long brown overcoat, a metallic figure with beady orange eyes unlike anything she had ever seen, an automaton that (perhaps in another form) people in one very specific area of the wasteland would one day come to fear with every fiber in their being.

What was stood in-front of Camilla, was a Synth...

Chapter 5 - Road To Freedom
The Synth gave Camilla a tour of his little fiefdom. They resided in an old steelworks just off Baker Alley, and numbered somewhere between 150-200 men in total. A band of thugs looking for either caps or justice, united behind the single cause of getting this one synth to safety. Looking around the factory, it was almost as if the militia had created an entire town within it. Stores that supplied their people with arms, food, clothing, and trinkets dotted the factory floor, with old pieces of large and nondescript machinery connected with various metal sheets and wooden planks, forming floors which themselves held restaurants, inns, and more; an entire township on the vertical axis, spanning floor-to-roof of this large disused factory.

"So what's the plan?" asked Camilla "I assume you don't mean to stay here until the end of your days."

The synth chuckled softly <font color="#BDA009">"Although that would probably be a ways off, no I do not". He led Camilla to a large map of the local area that had been scruffily pinned onto one of the walls. <font color="#BDA009">"The area defined by this red twine is the outskirts of Uniontown" he explained, pointing his metallic finger at the map and tracing the lines in the air <font color="#BDA009">"I came from the north-west, and my aim is to travel south, along the route defined by the black twine, in order to reach Appalachia." Camilla scanned the map and nodded accordingly, it was a route not too different to the one she had taken here. <font color="#BDA009">"However, I was followed, by those people who hired you, and they intend to try and take me back."

Camilla looked closer at the map, analysing it in great detail. "Why Appalachia?" she asked offhandedly, clearly more focused on the map. She wanted to see if there were any better routes to Appalachia, or alternative routes to other parts of the Wasteland that were also (relatively speaking) safe.

<font color="#BDA009">"Appalachia is inhabited by a great amount of machines and robots, thanks to political decisions made before the war" explained the Synth <font color="#BDA009">"The reason that the Institute has been able to follow me so closely is because I emit a unique energy signature. If I reach Appalachia, that signal would be mixed in with the signals of all the other robots in the region, masking it. A needle in a haystack, as it were..."

It was then, that a familiar face stepped out of the shadows. "I also suggested that he try and set up shop with the Brotherhood of Steel, given he's a unique piece of kit, they might be interested in anything he has to give them." it said. Camilla snapped out of her concentration and spun around to see Seb. She'd lost track of him amidst everything. Seb snickered at her surprise "The best way of understanding a city is to ask it's criminals; who knows the alleys better than a pickpocket? I searched for criminals, and found these people instead." he explained, motioning towards the Synth. "And when I heard they had a paying job, I suggested they get in contact with my boss. Not the most delicate means of contact... but contact all the same."

Camilla questioned Seb's suggestion of the Brotherhood, whether they'd even treat the machine as a person, or if he'd just be stripped down for parts.... But Camilla dismissed the thought; she cared not for its plight, only its caps... And Seb, in all likelihood, suggested the Brotherhood with much the same feelings...

Turning back toward the Synth, Camilla gave him another look-over now he was in the brighter light of the factory's tall windows. He resembled a skeleton, and seemed to have only the most minimal ability to change his facial expression. Beneath the thick brown trenchcoat he wore seemed to be a collection of wires, and generators that appeared to sputter lightly, giving the impression of breathing and a heartbeat... Looking further, his fingers appeared to be missing a joint, which meant anything he held would presumably have to be be pressed further into his metallic palms than otherwise. His wrists seemed to be extremely slender, clasped together using some bolt-like connector about the size of a bottlecap. Lastly, its eyes seemed to be some form of camera lens, mimicking an iris and its dilation with an array of shutters and apertures, which it also used in place of eyelids whenever it blinked, though Camilla assumed it was a programmed reflex and doubted the action provided him any actual benefit.

"That reminds me" Seb interjected, disrupting Camilla's concentration once again "We haven't even been told your name, do you have one?" The synth paused for a moment before answering <font color="#BDA009">"I haven't really put much thought into it... I suppose I don't have one. The Institute called me 'Prototype', but that would be more a designation than a name..." The Synth once again paused, the shutters on its eyes closing as if in thought. <font color="#BDA009">"I suppose I'll take what's on the door to my room. Call me Foreman, atleast for now." he answered, reopening his eyes and giving Camilla what she assumed was a smile. <font color="#BDA009">"Anyway, I believe it has been a long day for the two of you, yes? We've got a couple of good inns around here, please, enjoy all that Railyard has to offer." said Foreman, before returning to his office. Seb scoffed at the synth's suggestion and leant over to Camilla, "I'll pass on the inn offer, I've got someone waiting for me at the Rosa Colta..." he whispered in her ear, Camilla simply looked at him with mock scepticism "Oh, 'Rosa Colta'? A regular inn, I'm sure...? Or are you searching for more than just criminals?" jeered Camilla playfully. Seb simply gave Camilla a pat on the back and small laugh in response, before giving her a quick salute and ascending into Railyard's vast heights.

Looking around at her options, Camilla elected to pay a visit to a store nestled in the bottom corner of the township, called "The Stingwing's Barb", a small stall adorned with guns and blades that Camilla assumed was the local gun store. "Ahoy there" she said as she approached the store, before leaning up against the counter. The shopkeep was a rough looking woman with an array of scars and an eyepatch. <font color="#4ac200">"Ahoy yourself" the shopkeep said <font color="#4ac200">"The metal fella says you're okay, so we can do business. What do you need?". Camilla looked around at the guns adorning the stall's walls, all weapons she'd seen many a time before... 10mms, submachine guns, laser rifles... The shopkeep must have seen the unimpressed look on Camilla's face, as she piped up <font color="#4ac200">"If none of the regular stock interests you, I have some... special items. If you're doing a job for the metal man, I say you can probably take a look..." the shopkeep said, as she reached beneath the counter and pulled out a large wooden crate that seemed heavy even for it's size. Flipping the lid on the crate, Camilla saw a bounty of rare and valuable weapons. Peering through the box, Camilla's eye was drawn to one particular rifle, grabbing it, the shopkeep piped up again <font color="#4ac200">"Ahh, You've good taste my friend, a unique bit of kit that one..." she said, staring at the weapon. <font color="#4ac200">''"Fella who bought it in tells me it was found square in the heart of a Deathclaw Nest, on the body of some dude armored head-to-toe in the sleekest shit he'd seen. Like a black devil, he said..." ''

Camilla flipped the gun around, examining it from all angles. As far as she could tell, it had no distinctive weapon markings, no model identification or serial number inscribed onto the piece... It was a rifle, that much was easily apparent. It had a sizable stock that upon first glance would appear to be some kind of dark wood, but upon closer inspection was infact some kind of metal with a complex and detailed wooden pattern etched onto it.. On the other end of the piece was a long and slender barrel about the length of Camilla's arm, also etched but in a different pattern, one that reminded her of Damascus steel... The most unusual parts of the weapon however would be the receiver and tip of the barrel. A set of long and taut wires snaked from the receiver and down the barrel, feeding into some form of attachment on the end. The receiver itself appeared atleast somewhat typical on first glance, but seemed to lack important components. For instance, while it appeared externally to be similar to Camilla's own lever-action rifle, it had no actual lever for it to be one... Infact, the gun lacked any parts (atleast ones that showed externally) that moved, with the sole exception of the trigger... Camilla could not even tell where the gun was supposed to be loaded, or for that matter what ammo it took... Peering at the device appended to the end of the weapon, Camilla could only assume that the rifle was some kind of energy weapon, as it blocked off the end of the barrel almost entirely, leaving only a tiny hole far too small for anything other than maybe a BB to exit through... And, most notably, the attachment had five sharp trident-like protrusions, that let out a small but audible electrical whine... <font color="#4ac200">"It is a mystery how the thing works, I've fired it myself and never found need to reload... Either it has some kind of microfusion breeder the power of which I have never seen, or it has a ludicrous cartridge capacity..." commented the shopkeep.

Camilla raised the gun towards the wall, testing it's weight and feel in both one hand and two. It was good. It's sights were also a thing of curiosity. While they at first appeared to be quite standard, peering through it revealed that the sight contained some kind of peculiar crystalline lens; which reacted with the eye in such a way that the greater distance the eye was from the lens itself, the greater the magnification appeared...

The shopkeep looked at Camilla expectantly. Camilla thought for a moment. Despite the robot's seeming hospitality, he hadn't yet returned the weapons they had taken from her, an action she assumed was probably intentional, holding her property as ransom... Also, his suggestion that they stay in one of Railyard's own inns as opposed to returning to their friends stunk of being held hostage.. If she wanted to get her own back, she'd need a weapon to do it, and after all she did feel naked without a gun.... After a short negotiation with the merchant, 3500 caps were traded for the one-of-a-kind firearm. Camilla holstered her new gun, which fit just as snugly on her back as her lever-action did.

Yes.... This would be the weapon she'd use to take both Railyard and Uniontown for all they're worth...

Chapter 6 - Debt Collector
In the night, Camilla contacted the rest of her allies from her room in the Lucky Starr inn. Using her Pip-Boy, she was able to send out a message on a shortwave signal for Mitnik to pick up, who then relayed it to the rest of the group. The following morning; Therese and Mitnik came to Railyard, meeting up with Camilla and Seb. "Good to see you two, It feels like an age." said Camilla, shooting Therese a wave. "You too, chief. I'm a little offended you were getting into trouble without me." responded Therese, taking a look around the expanse of Railyard. "Did you have any trouble getting here?" inquired Seb, Therese merely shook her head, and Mitnik responded "N-No, we walked in like we know the place just like you said to, I guess everyone assumed we belonged here..." Camilla clapped her hands "Excellent!" she said joyfully, wrapping her arms around her allies. "Listen, I have a plan..." whispered Camilla "One that I believe will make us all quite rich... Interested?" Therese grinned in response "Does the pope shit in the woods?"

Some time later, Camilla was sat at one of Railyard's many restaurants, drinking a cup of bloodleaf tea. She'd chosen a restaurant where she could see the drink being prepared with her own eyes, that way she could be sure that it was not poisoned, unlike Big Boris's offering... She valued these small periods of respite, where she could enjoy her drink along with a pre-war book. This one she'd discovered was particularly curious, some ancient discourse, dense with knowledge, and old even before the Great War. A foreign piece on the topic of princedoms. Interesting stuff, she thought...

It was while she was reading, that Foreman approached her and sat down opposite her at the table. <font color="#BDA009">"Morning, cut-throat." he rattled. Camilla was surprised, not by his sudden appearance but by the fact that she could hear the tiredness in his voice, he sounded a tad hoarse as if he had just woken up. <font color="#BDA009">"I'm trust you've not had second thoughts about our arrangement?" said Foreman, Camilla merely smirked in response, not even looking away from her book. "Do I really look like the kind of person who has second thoughts?" she said, Foreman laughed. She hadn't noticed before, but Foreman didn't seem to have the requisite moving parts in his face show a smile, and even though the chuckle came from his mouth and he motioned as if he were laughing, his face was almost motionless. <font color="#BDA009">"No. No, I suppose you do not" said Foreman, giving a yawn and edging his chair closer to Camilla's.

<font color="#BDA009">"What is this you're reading?" asked Foreman, peering over Camilla's shoulder at her book. Camilla closed the book on her thumb in order to show him the cover. Foreman ran his finger across the embossed words on the front. <font color="#BDA009">"The title... Something "Principle"? by.... Marco.... Marco...." Camilla smirked as he squinted at the cover of her book. "Those robotic eyes of yours not quite up-to snuff, tin man?" teased Camilla, Foreman chuckled in response, <font color="#BDA009">"Ma'am, you wound me" he said in mock offense, before letting out a sigh and staring at the book's cover pensively. <font color="#BDA009">"Regrettably, I'm not quite a production model. The camera modules that form my eyes aren't very high quality. I can see, certainly, but it is grainy and without color...." he said, raising his hand infront of himself and staring at it, as if analysing his own vision. There was a short silence, before Foreman shook his head and came to his senses. <font color="#BDA009">"Anyway." he said <font color="#BDA009">"In regards to our arrangement, what do you intend?"

Camilla closed her book and thought. She knew where the Institute's local base was, the old WGNR building, But she did not know how many scientists there were. She'd spoken with one of them, but also heard multiple voices from the opposite side of the door to the recording studio, the number of which she could not discern... Even if she were to just run in guns-blazing there would be no guarantee of success. If just one person were inside the studio, they would be able to lock shut the studio's armored door, placing at least one of their number indefinitely out of reach... No, Camilla thought, the best way (and maybe the only way) to clear out the scientists would be starting from within the recording studio itself, that way they could not seal the door on her and secure their safety... But how would she go about getting in there? Even on her prior visit there, the scientist she'd spoken with had taken care to not even let her see within the room, let alone enter it... She would need something to happen for them to abandon that degree of care, or something that would convince them that she could be trusted without question, or both... Such an alignment of the stars was impossible, right? Well, unless...

Camilla's suggestion had not gone over well with the members of Foreman's Militia clearly, as in almost a blink, she felt six... No, seven bayonets placed against her throat... With her hands raised and her equipment still confiscated, she was in what could conservatively be called a sticky situation. "Okay... I get it, not a suggestion you're especially fond of..." Said Camilla, trying to de-escalate the situation. Before she could continue talking her way out, she was interrupted. <font color="#BDA009">"Perhaps recap it in terms my men can understand, and we'll see..." said Foreman, staring daggers into Camilla as he waved his men down. The men put down their bayonets slowly in response, though were clearly ready to resume where they left off if they had to. Camilla, surprised, lowered her hands. "The folks you're wanting dealt with are holed up in a room that they can lock the door to. The door's too thick to pick, kick or blow up; so we have to make sure they don't seal it..." Camilla explained, Foreman simply listened silently, though he excluded a feeling of incredulousness. "The only way to go about that is to start the attack from the other side of that door, and the only way I'll be able to get there is if they trust me absolutely..." Camilla paused, looking around her to make sure no-one was about to put another knife to her throat. <font color="#BDA009">"And, you wish to achieve this by handing me in." said Foreman, finishing her sentence. Camilla nodded. "Only when they think they've won will they let their guard down." she explained "Before, they didn't even let me see inside, they'll have to think they've completely succeeded to put their doubts aside."

The various men turned to Foreman, clearly waiting on his word to separate Camilla's head from her shoulders. Foreman once again appeared to be in deep thought. "I cannot foresee another way. You do want to be free of them, don't you?" added Camilla, trying to convince Foreman. After what felt like an age, Foreman exhaled and reopened his eyes. <font color="#BDA009">"How do I know I can trust you on this? My life would be in your hands." he quizzed. Camilla laughed internally, she had him, all she had to do was pull the emotion card. Camilla shut her eyes in mock pensiveness. "Because I know what it's like to try and find belonging far from home..." she said, silently wondering if the band of Shakespeare enthusiasts she'd seen roaming Appalachia were still looking for actors... There was a pause for a moment before Foreman extended his metal hand to her. <font color="#BDA009">"Then we have a deal." he said. Camilla shook his hand in response. Bingo.

Camilla walked, with Foreman in tow, up to the door of the WGNR building. A security camera in the entryway sprung to life and looked directly at Camilla for a couple of moments, it's red lens pulsing slightly, before once again falling to sleep. Camilla could hear some voices clambering excitedly from the other end of the building. She slowly continued, Foreman trashing about acting as if he were trying to escape her grasp, until she reached the door to the recording studio once more. A moment passed as she heard the mechanics within the door activate as it unlocked and slid open. The scientist she spoke to before stepped out, beaming as if it were Christmas.

"Camilla, was it? Yes yes! Thank you for your help, you will be generously compensated in just a moment..." he said, approaching Foreman and attempting to take him off her hands. Foreman trashed harder in response, and Camilla acted as if she were gripping him tighter in response. The scientist yelped and jumped back in surprise. "My... I did not think so short a time outside of... Home, would make him so feral..." he mumbled in shock, before composing himself slightly "Ahem um, yes. In that case, Camilla, could you aid in bringing him into our laboratory?" he asked, doing a poor job at trying to convince her. Fortunately for him, he didn't need to. Camilla smiled and nodded, as the Scientist skittered back inside the recording studio, and motioned her to follow him.

Little did the scientist know, he had just signed his own death warrant....

Chapter 7 - Synth Retention
The radio studio was smaller than Camilla expected. The tattered remains of soundproof foam clung to the walls, and the wooden skirting had almost all fallen away, with only a handful of planks remaining in their initial place. Most notably, much of the recording equipment had been dismantled or repurposed, only a small amount remained on the inside of the recording booth, which seemed to have been modified in some way Camilla could not discern. In the middle of the room was a large square table, on which lied various pieces of scrap metal and destroyed electronics, some of which on closer inspection seemed to resemble those that ran throughout Foreman's body. Among the scrap was a machine about the size of a car's engine, it beeped softly but seemed to beep more rapidly the closer she got to it. Camilla did a headcount of her targets. Three scientists operating terminals up against the back corner, one scientist in the recording booth, one operating the beeping machine, and the scientist she had first met; that made 6. Camilla was not about to act hastily however, she held off on striking in-case any issues presented themselves. Just then, a scientist she had not seen (Presumably, he was crouched behind a crate directly to the left of the door) ran past her, and upto the scientist she had followed in. <font color="#4ac200">"Sir, Sir!" he said with a panic, before leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Camilla could not make out what he was saying, but he shot panicked glances at her as he did so. The lead scientist nodded before turning to Camilla.

"Wow. Wowowow.... Well Camilla, it seems you're in for quite a day! We've received a communication from back home. The Director herself would like to speak with you, personally!" he said, directing her towards the recording booth. Camilla shot Foreman a silent instruction to stay put, and Foreman gave a small nod in response.

Walking into the recording booth, a single microphone dangled from the ceiling. The booth was once much bigger, but crates and computers filled up almost half of its space. Just then, one of the scientists came in, hauling an old television in his arms. Thought he unit was large, it's screen was not. <font color="#4ac200">"Excuse me... Excuse me..." he said in strain, as he hurried to put the heavy screen down. "What is this?" enquired Camilla, the scientist did not answer her, and simply set to work connecting the screen to a rack of servers and computers that stood in front of her. As he finished, he made sure the screen was perched atop the controls of the old recording panel, and faced Camilla. Before she could even demand an explanation from the man, the scientists operated the pre-war radio controls, and the speakers in the room, she was in sprung to life.

<font color="#408ad4">"Testing..... Testing...." came the voice, the static nature of it implied that it was a broadcast from a fair distance. The screen that was placed in front of her then sprung to life; a crackly black and white splodge appeared on the screen, before it slowly came into focus. It appeared to be a group of 5 people sitting at a desk, four around the sides and one at the head. <font color="#408ad4">"Ah. You must be the local that was hired." the voice rang out on the speakers. The image on the screen also moved too. It was as if she was watching one of those pre-war television broadcasts she'd heard so much of, except the tone of her voice implied she expected a response. Was this some kind of visual intercom?

"Yes...?" Camilla said apprehensively, still uncertain of if the people on the other side could hear her. She waited for a moment to hear the response. <font color="#408ad4">"I trust, by now, you have come to realise the property you escorted to my colleagues is no ordinary man." said the voice. Given the image seemed to show the person at the head of the table moving in tandem, he assumed it to be her voice. "You say ordinary man as if he can be called any kind of man." responded Camilla. She expected some kind of laugh, but the person at the head of the table was direct and unmoved. <font color="#408ad4">"Perhaps true. Allow me to explain. I am the Director, I lead a group of people called The Institute." Camilla nodded in response, sure by this point that the person on the screen could hear her. "Yes, I heard as much from the machine itself." there was a cold silence for a moment after Camilla spoke, before the Director responded. <font color="#408ad4">"What exactly has it told you?" Camilla strained to recall. "Only that you lot are from somewhere north-west, and that you've been following him in order to try and bring him back." The Director nodded <font color="#408ad4">"Yes. He is what we call an Android, the first working prototype in a series of experiments dating back to before the Great War." she explained <font color="#408ad4">"He is one-of-a-kind, and we are eager to get him back so that we may emulate the technology." Camilla crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrow inquisitively "You built it, you don't have that information?" the Director and the others at the table looked sheepish <font color="#408ad4">"Regrettably... Our records are faulty. The information about his construction has become mixed with the information for thousands of other preceding, non-functional prototypes. It would take an age to discern this one from the masses." said the Director, clearly embarrassed. There was a brief pause before another voice chimed in, not one from the people on-screen, but from the rest of the studio across from Camilla.

<font color="#4ac200">"Uh, Ma'am about that, we have a problem" Camilla looked through the window to see the Scientists yelling at one-another, but through the soundproof glass she could not tell what. <font color="#4ac200">"The android, It wasn't co-operative but Phillips managed to get at its hard drive backups, it doesn't look good..." The Director spoke up again <font color="#408ad4">"What's amiss?" she inquired.

That was when the scientist gave the news. Foreman's software had been accumulating errors and bugs ever since it first started running all the way back in Boston. His hardware was fine for the most part, but his software had a short life expectancy. One that was coming up quite soon. Camilla suspected he might not even make it to Appalachia before compounding errors caused him to shut down for good. The Director on the screen seemed infuriated. <font color="#408ad4">"Damn!" she growled, slamming the table with her fist <font color="#408ad4">"That means we won't be able to get him home for full analysis before the data fully degrades... Send those backups over this signal when we're done talking." instructed the Director. <font color="#408ad4">"It seems your work was for naught, Local." she said, Camilla merely shrugged "I don't care for your tin toy, I'm here for the promised payment. Speaking of which...."

Camilla walked out of the recording booth, taking both the Director and the scientists by surprise. She gave Foreman a quick nod, before drawing the new toy she'd bought from Railyard. What then erupted could only be called a bloodbath. In half a breath, Camilla aimed down the weapon's sights at the lead scientist she'd spoken to, and fired her new gun for the first time. A jet black round, shrouded in a yellowish green plasma, shot from the tip of the barrel, cutting through the air like a knife through butter, before colliding with the scientist's head. A bright light shone when it collided with the scientist, blinding Camilla for a moment, and a short time afterwards a bang was heard. Looking at the scientist, the hit was brutal, The black bullet had cut through the scientist's skull with awesome precision, leaving a perfect circular cutout from one side to the other, the edges of the wound charred and flakey where the bullet's plasma had grazed and burnt it. Looking at the wall behind the scientist, it seemed like when the bullet hit something it could not penetrate, it released it's energy all at once. Not very much energy, about the blast power of a firecracker, but the ash stains on the wall seemed to show that it could cause some damage, and wasn't to be underestimated.

Camilla turned to the other scientists, slaughtering them with brutal efficiency. One of her bullets had managed to make contact with one of the scientist's hands as they tried to shield their face, a gruesome mistake as the bullet severed the scientist's hand entirely before exploding on contact with their face, shaving more than just the hairs from their jaw... Her last shot rang through the throat of the last scientist, her aim slipping slightly. As the scientist gasped his final breaths, he pulled down the switch to transmit. It was a hard detail to notice, one she was sure Foreman had not seen, but she cared not. She holstered her gun and turned to Foreman "Problem solved." she said, bluntly.

Foreman nodded <font color="#BDA009">"Aye... You've done me a service... But I heard what those men said, I am not long for this world...." he said, despair could easily be read on his metallic face, the first of his expressions that Camilla could call 'easily read'... There was a pause for a moment, before Camilla gave an expectant cough. <font color="#BDA009">"Ah, yes right... Your payment..." sighed Foreman, handing Camilla a holotape she quickly slid it into her Pip-Boy and her eyes lit up. A bottlecap press, difficult but not impossible to make with resources back home at the Water Concern. She transferred the holotape's content to her Pip-Boy, and then destroyed the tape. An action that seemed to shock Foreman. <font color="#BDA009">"Taking extra measures to protect the information, I take it?" he asked. Camilla just nodded, before pulling out her gun and, without looking, shot Foreman in the leg.

He let out a scream as he fell to the ground that sounded like a metal sheet being strained and snapped in two, and the bullet cut cleanly through the narrow metal bar that formed his leg, and the plasma melted the sharp edges, hot metal dribbling onto and drying on the floor. Foreman was shocked, without words. "You see" Camilla spat, as she knelt down on top of one of his forearms, pinning him to the ground, his skeletal face but inches from her own "You're of no use to me anymore" she whispered "And I don't take kindly to my guns being taken, being threatened by you and your fuckin' goons, and being held hostage in that shithole of a town you built". Foreman let out what might have been a whimper, and Camilla shot his other leg.

Another metallic scream sounded, that would have deafened anyone else. Camilla ignored it, and simply pulled out a tiny remote control "You ever seen one of these?" she whispered into his face "I found it in your little town. Or, more accurately, I stole it." Foreman's eyes darted to the control, and back to Camilla. "It's a remote detonator you see. A remote detonator for a series of bombs that I stole from your weapons merchant, and had my friends stash at strategic hidden points throughout that shithole Railyard." Camilla flicked open the plastic button with her thumb, and pursed it over the big red button at the control's top. "Are you ready to see everything you ever built go up in a ball of smoke and ash?" asked Camilla, Foreman's eyes went wide <font color="#BDA009">"Please, no... they're not involved in this..." he begged, Camilla was once again surprised by the human-like quality to his voice, he sounded weak. Camilla grabbed the back of his skull-like head, and moved him to be nose-to-nose with her. "I don't care." she said, sharply, before pressing the button.

Somewhere, a small distance away, explosions sounded. The series of screams and bangs that rang out in chorus could put the Great War itself to shame. Camilla stood up and paced, simply drinking it all in; the fruits of her labor fully realising, her revenge finally dealt... <font color="#BDA009">"You're a monster" said Foreman, his voice seeming mortified. Camilla simply snapped her fingers, and on command; Therese, Seb, and Mitnik walked in. "A fine show, boss" said Therese, impressed. "You should have seen it, was like looking into the sun." Therese and the rest then stood at Camilla's side, staring down at Foreman. Sneering. Camilla raised her hand out to the side, towards Therese.

Wordlessly, Therese handed Camilla a combat knife. Foreman's beady eyes followed the whole interaction, and shook with fear. "You see, tin can..." said Camilla, walking back towards him, "I don't appreciate being treated like a PET!" shouted Camilla, kicking Foreman sharply in the chest, sending his metallic body clattering across the floor, before slamming against the wall. He was leaking some kind of oil, which left a trail from where he was to where he had landed. <font color="#BDA009">"Mercy... Please..." gasped Foreman. Camilla knelt infront of Foreman, and sank the knife into his throat. "I have none." she uttered, as she slid the knife across, cutting through the delicate connectors of his neck one by one, as the nixie tubes that formed the color in his eyes flickered as the last embers of his short life ebbed out, before shutting off.

There was a quiet for a moment, the gentle sound of Foreman's mechanized heartbeat and false breathing had stopped, punctuating a silenter silence. Camilla panted, as her adrenaline wore off. She walked silently to Therese, and returned the knife to her, still dripping with oil and adorned with metal shavings and scraps of wire. None of Camilla's party dared be the first to utter a word. In spending so much time travelling with her; they had almost forgotten that Camilla was, above all, a raider boss. "...What are you waiting for?" said Camilla, causing her team to jump in surprise at the silence being broken. "Check the bodies, take our prizes. Bring the caps to me. You see anything else you like, you keep." The three nodded and set to work.

An additional 5,000 caps had been recovered, no-one had found anything they'd wished to keep however, other than Mitnik, who had kept Foreman's head for analysis. Following their looting of the bodies and rooms, the group set course for the remains of Railyard. Between the flames and scrap and corpses, few caps had survived the blast, but many assorted trinkets of value had. Weapons, Armor, Raw materials, medicines, alcohol... The group picked through it all like vultures, keeping some for themselves, but selling most to Uniontown's stores for the tidy sum of 20,000 caps. It was while they were selling the remains of Railyard, that Big Boris approached them, a small army behind him. "Are we going to have to take down a second town today...?" mumbled Seb, seeing the group approach.

Camilla signalled to Seb and the others to stay back, as she walked towards Boris. <font color="#db3e00">"My friends. I deployed the guards when I heard that hellish explosion, was it your doing?" Camilla stood tense, ready to fight if need be "Aye. I've dealt with your criminal element. Permanently." the air was silent for a moment, before Camilla added "I think you owe us for that". The mayor coughed and spluttered nervously before calming himself. <font color="#db3e00">"Ahah, uh, a moment if you'd please" he said, waving at his own men to return to their respective posts and leaving into a building for a couple moments before returning.

<font color="#db3e00">"I had planned on bribing our criminal element to leave us be, but I suppose you have earnt these spoils." he said, handing Camilla a box. Opening it, Camilla counted roughly 5,000 caps. "And I suppose these AREN'T tax money...?" spat Seb. Camilla shot Seb a glare, and he backed down. Camilla turned to the mayor again. "Thank you." she said "I shall be departing again soon." Boris's eyes went wide for a moment <font color="#db3e00">"Ah, of course, your stay here is only temporary." he said <font color="#db3e00">"I'd say I hope we meet again, but I think we'd all be better off if we didn't." Camilla did not reply, only nodding towards the mayor, before going to retrieve her Power Armor from the Schoolhaus Inn. She had a Vault to get to.

''What Camilla would not know, and could not have known, was that the scientists had succeeded in sending information from Foreman's backup drives back home to Boston. Using this information, the Institute would eventually narrow Foreman's software fault down to one point; personality. The advanced nature of his personality module had been too much for the rest of his systems to bare. They set to work reproducing the model, this time with much more rudimentary programming, and shelved the personality module for use in later models. Foreman's simpler reproductions would one day come to be known as Generation 1 Synths, and would soon litter the Commonwealth Wasteland in order to further the Institute's mysterious aims...''

''In response to their entire team being slaughtered by a rogue local, the Institute decided that it would be a better idea to have specially-trained teams of combatants to deal with the harshness of the wasteland, as opposed to sending out their thinkers and relying on the easily misplaced goodwill of mercenaries and thugs... Such a concept would eventually evolve, leading to the creation of Coursers, and the Synth Retention Bureau.''

Camilla's desire for just a few more caps, just a few more prizes; had unintentionally set the stage, far down the line, for another individual to rise to prominence.

But that is a story for another day....

Chapter 8 - How Little We Know
Camilla and her crew left Uniontown and continued north, more silent than they had arrived, still somewhat fearful to speak in-front of Camilla after her destructive display. Just as they had cut swathes through ghouls on their way into Uniontown, they could cut swathes through the silence as they left... As the group continued north, they were forced to climb over piles of rubble that were once homes and highways, and crawl through tunnels that were once pipelines and sewers. The silence was broken one or two times on the journey through these places, but the all-consuming quietness quickly reasserted itself.

Eventually, the group arrived at a large ornate manor, which they assumed to be approximately halfway between Uniontown and their final destination. A sign above the door, degraded and worn over time, seemed to read "Oceanhouse". "We should check this place out." Said Camilla, the rest of her crew jumping out of their skin at the breaking of the silence. "A place this big before the war is gonna be flush with food and supplies. We'll rest up here for a few hours and head out." Therese took the opportunity of a break to take out a stick of bubblegum, and began chewing it "Sure thing, boss." she said, before meandering through a doorway and beginning to search the building.

With the rest of the team searching the building, Camilla took a moment to stare out of the window. The group was so close to The Pitt now, that the borders between day and night had completely melded together, the landscape dark as massive plumes of filthy smog blotted out the sun. Camilla flicked her Pip-Boy light on to better see inside the dim and dark house, however the thickness of the dust in the air made the light incapable of illuminating anything other than very close distances. Camilla grumbled in frustration. Looking around for alternatives, she spied an array of old gas lamps lining the tops of the walls just above eye level. She pulled out a zippo lighter and was about to light them, before she noticed there was no controls for the gas release... Peering over the shade, Camilla saw that in-fact these old gas lamps had been converted long ago to house traditional lightbulbs instead. She cursed the Manor's former owner and their lack of foresight, before putting her lighter away. In order to better illuminate the building, she would have to find the generator that once powered this building and figure out how to turn it back on... "You lot stay topside, I'm heading to the basement to take a look at the generator..." she grumbled to her team, as the went through a narrow doorway on the side of the stairwell and went down the rickety stairs to the basement.

Pushing the door at the end of the stairwell open, Camilla was greeted with a sprawling warehouse-like concrete expanse. While it would normally be illuminated using the many lightbulbs that Camilla could see dangling uncovered from the ceiling with small chains and thin wires, the lack of power caused the only illumination in the basement to be Camilla's own Pip-Boy light, and the dust here was even worse than up above, so thick that she could not see walls and objects even within an arms length of herself, only seeing the dust lit up in her Pip-Boy light's green glow. She didn't really have a choice then. Camilla turned off her Pip-boy light, dropping herself into pitch blackness, before rooting around in her bag and pulling out a small plastic pill bottle before pouring a small quantity of the tablets within into her mouth. As she swallowed, her eyes went wide and her pupils dilated to almost entirely cover the green color of her eyes, before the room around her slowly faded in from black, tinted in an overbearing blueish tone.

Camilla walked through the basement, it was adorned with various wooden crates, cardboard boxes, and empty metal shelves. The floor and the skirting of the wall were an off-white ceramic tile, letting off a soft clink with each step that Camilla made. She was looking for some kind of generator. Walking around the basement and squeezing through doorways that the Great War had collapsed, Camilla followed the exposed wire from one of the lightbulbs that covered the area, hoping that her goal would be at its other end. As she progressed further into the basement, the organisation of wires and pipes became increasingly sloppy, and Camilla had to step over or duck under piping that ran at ankle height, or spanned diagonally through doorways. She thought that perhaps these pipes had fallen from their original positions over the years, but no, they ran into other pipes buried into the walls that implied they were built to be this way. Their positions almost seemed like barricades, attempts to block off a doorway, or atleast make it difficult or otherwise unpleasant to traverse....

The trail led to a room that time had long since sealed off to her, the only doorways being covered by rubble. Peering around the corner, Camilla spied a potential way in. A small table that had been placed in one of the doorways had managed to hold up against an onslaught of rubble that fell onto and covered it on all sides, providing a very dangerous tunnel through into the room. Her life would be in the hands of whomever made this cheap metal table, but she decided to risk it. Exiting her Power Armor and going prone, Camilla crawled through the space, taking great care not to brush against the edges in-case she accidentally made the table legs buckle or rubble fall from the sides into the delicate opening. She could feel small, sharp pieces of rock and glass pressing into her torso and distressing her clothing, until Camilla almost hit her head on an empty rack of shelves that was directly on the other side of the small tunnel. The generator room seemed to also have been used for storage, she noted; as along with the rack of shelves, she spied an old rocking horse in the furthest corner from her, and an old decrepit mattress directly to her left, both of which were coupled with a few spare cardboard boxes that had become sodden and limp over the years, and the floor in general had been strewn with old newspapers and other such trash... Directly across from the opening however, behind the shelves, was the generator. Camilla pushed a couple stacks of tires and an old TV aside to get to the controls. Shit, it needed an Fusion core...

Camilla, frustrated but looking to the bright side, thought herself lucky that she had one spare. She had intended it for the return trip in her Power Armor, but given she had 35% left in her current core, she estimated she'd have atleast 25% left when they arrived at the Vault, so she could spare a little power. Worst case scenario, she'd have to exert her newfound influence on Uniontown to get a new core on the journey back... Camilla reached into her pocket and pulled out the spare fusion core, before she stopped. The way into this room had been treacherous, if that table collapsed at some point she'd lose more than just the little energy needed to power this place, she'd lose the whole core... Pausing for a moment to think of a solution, Camilla quickly crawled back though the tunnel and swapped the fresh core with the one currently in her Power Armor that she'd used for the journey here. 35% charge would be more than enough, and would be much less of a loss if turned out she couldn't eject it from the machine. As she slipped the core into the generator, the lightbulb in the centre of the room flickered into life. Camilla was able to savour her success for just a moment, before the repercussions hit. The activation of the generator caused much more than just the lights to turn on; boilers and pumps and god knows else rattled the building like an earthquake as they sprung back from the dead, causing more rubble to fall onto the table that functioned as the room's only functional entrance, which in turn caused the table to collapse like it was made of tinfoil... Camilla was stuck...

"Fuck." she whispered "Okay, think. There's always a way out...". Camilla was wary, given how much ruin the building's various unseen machines had shaken loose. It was a strong possibility that even more rubble and ruin was waiting to fall, and could fall with just a little further push, or a little more noise. She had to be quiet. Fortunately for her, she had experience in keeping a low volume from her time back in the old country... Peering around the small room, there was little available to her. Camilla knocked lightly on various areas of the walls and roofs and floors, begging for some sign of hollowness or a weak point, but with no such luck... She dug through the contents of her bag to try and come up with some sort of idea. She could use her Pip-Boy to communicate with Mitnik and have him bring the rest down to the basement, but having seen the outside of the room, she questioned if her team would be able to provide any help, even assuming that Mitnik picked up the message... The way she saw it, she had two options; Stay there and definitely die, or bust her way out and maybe not die. She didn't like her odds, but those were the breaks.... Pulling out her Super Sledge, Camilla gripped it with both hands, and readied her swing. She was aiming for an area of flat wall; she reasoned that hitting the pile of rubble would just give way to more rubble, and a corner would be reinforced. A flat wall was her best shot.

Reeling back and holding her breath, Camilla swung. The sound of the hammer's jet engine turning on rang out as the weapon reached wild speeds, until it collided with the wall with a mighty slam. The force, as she worried, caused more rubble to begin falling. Fortunately, Camilla was able to punch through a hole large enough for her to leap through, and she quickly dashed into her Power Armor and out of the basement door as crumbling rubble fell behind her. As the final pieces of wreckage fell and blocked off the basement for good, a single chunk succeeded in hitting Camilla as it collided with her heel, causing her to trip rather fortunately into the safety of the basement stairwell. As her Power Armored body clunked loudly to the floor, the sound of falling rubble ceased, and the rest of her crew ran down the staircase to see what on earth had caused such a racket, only to be met with their leader covered in drywall and gingerly rising to her feet. As Camilla explained what had occurred, the group breathed a collective sigh of relief that she was safe, only to be cut off by a noise. "What the fuck was that?" whispered Camilla, drawing her rifle.

The noises had come, she estimated, from several points on several floors above them. The issue was that the noises didn't have the cadence of falling wreckage or snapping wood, they had the cadence of a footstep; the distinctive sound of a wooden floorboard creaking to accomodate the newfound weight of a person... A person, or something else... "If we're all here, then who the fuck is that?" whispered Seb, drawing a Mauser that Camilla did not know he had. Exiting her Power Armor once more (in order to conserve battery life, now she was a core down), Camilla motioned to Seb and the rest to stay behind her and she took point. This level of care seemed to prove fruitless however, as even though more sounds rang out (some of which sounded even more like footsteps than the last), none of the crew managed to find who was making them. "M-Maybe it's just th-the floor settling?" questioned Mitnik. Seb scoffed loudly, causing Camilla to shoot him a death glare for his loudness. "Bullshit, Einstein." whispered Seb, wanting not to rouse Camilla's ire, "When is it ever just the fucking floor settling?" Just then, Camilla spotted something out the corner of her eye, a quick black shimmer. Moving so suddenly and fast that it surprised the rest of the group, Camilla shut her eyes tight, as she spun around and fired five rounds to her left. "Jesus, Boss!" shouted Therese over the sound of the bullets, and shielding her ears. Camilla opened her eyes to see five bullet holes in the wooden floorboards. Nothing. "You're not usually so jumpy, Boss." said Seb, a hint of worry on his face. "I-It's nothing... Must've had too much Nuka-Cola... Jittery..." muttered Camilla. She'd seen that kind of black shimmer before; years and years ago, miles and miles away... Last time she saw it, the whole crew she was travelling with at the time had died, turning up days later as a grotesque pile resembling ground beef... "If they'd come out this far..." She thought... Seb, Mitnik and Therese looked towards Camilla; they'd never seen her act like this, something was wrong. "Boss?" gingerly asked Therese, Camilla just snapped around, and grabbed her crew by the scruff of their clothes. "We're leaving." she said, bluntly, dragging them down the stairs and out the door.

"Boss, what the fuck?!" yelled Therese, massaging her neck as Camilla let go of her. "I-I agree, that was um.... Peculiar..." mumbled Mitnik. Camilla walked up to Therese, picked her up, and slammed her against the wall; knocking the wind out of her. "Know your fucking place." whispered Camilla, before releasing Therese and turning around, continuing the walk towards Vault 113. Therese and Mitnik were too taken aback to talk back to her, Seb however wasn't. "Boss, I know it's sort of your thing to fly off the handle, but that was jus-" Seb was cut off as Camilla spun around and punched him in the jaw. "Shut. Up." she said "You don't want to know what I saw in there. All you need to know, is that we're fucking moving." Seb stood up, wiping away the little blood she'd managed to draw from the side of his mouth. "Damn it." thought Camilla, "What, just a 'maybe' on one of them causes me to lose my cool...? I can't lead my team effectively if I'm jumping at fucking shadows...."

Camilla chose to think further on it as they continued their course, what was done was done... As the group continued down the path, Camilla continued to think. As time passed, she thought she saw another one of those shimmers out the corner of her eye... However she chose not respond to it this time. "No..." she thought "No, I was right, they can't have come out this far, there'd be signs... I must just be sleep deprived... Seein' shit..."

Camilla could not tell how long the last leg of the trip had been... Hours, she assumed? She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice.... However, regardless, they'd made it to their destination.

The former Mt Pleasant was nothing but ruins. A brave scavenger might have considered it heaven, but with the Pitt now so close it was visible on the horizon, it was plain to see that Mt Pleasant shared a fair share of The Pitt's problems, and Camilla could see the "Trogs" she'd heard so much about scuttering across the ruined walls around the former town. They were easy to deal with in small quantities, so long as you had something to swing and a good aim. Numerous times, the crew just stopped where they were so that they could enjoy taking swings at the Trogs that leapt at them, Camilla likened the task to playing Baseball, just with a lot more blood. The others laughed.

It was not a long walk from the outskirts of Mt Pleasant to their final goal, and standing there, the three licked their lips at the prospect of their prize... Mitnick flicked switches on the yellow control panel to the side of the thing, pressing buttons on his Pip-Boy along with it... After 5 or so minutes, the sound of depressurising rang out. A loud hiss sounded, as the colossal metal door disengaged, and the ear-splitting sound of metal-on-metal shrieked out as the door was pulled back by the large internal mechanism, before rolling to one side...

Vault 113 was open, and her fruits were ready for poaching...