@Renee - Indeed. The success that Dissidents have had lately is getting to Bertrand. Perhaps he'd do better otherwise.
@SubRosa - Yep, all sorts of people get caught up in what they believe and dismiss anything that even remotely challenges it.
@TheCheshireKhajiit - Yeah. It can be difficult to balance the need for action and the need for downtime. Too much action and things don't develop well. Too much downtime and it gets boring. I'm trying to balance it as best I can. Chapter 4 is going to really ramp up the action.
I noticed in SubRosa's writings that she made a Google map indicating locations in her story. I wasn't sure if you could do that before, but that is a really neat idea. Thus, I'm making a Google map of the world of
Fallout: Florida. Of course, it'll be subject to many changes as it is a work in progress, but it will at least have the important story locations. I'm debating how much to include non-story locations as well, sort of like if it were a real Fallout game's map. I hope to also add notes to each location to give more background lore for each. I'll make the map available soon.
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Chapter 3: Hatching the Plan
Mariah fell asleep almost as soon as she crashed on Valentina’s couch around 11:30 PM. When she woke up the next morning, a clock on the wall read 9:30 AM. Valentina needed the sleep too, as she woke up at about the same time. For the most part, she was holding her emotions in check over her father Gabriel’s death. Valentina and Mariah left not too long after, the former telling the latter more about the city of Pensacola and GCU territory in former Florida in general.
[
Fallout Soundtrack: A Trader's Life]
That morning, one of the main streets have the city was hosting something similar to a farmers’ market, though many vendors were selling wares other than food. Merchants from out of town, as well as residents of Pensacola who didn’t have their own storefront, had booths set up on either side of the street. In a few stalls, chem dealers were toting their wares, though it seemed that the city government had many restrictions on what they could sell. One could see the usual Stimpaks, Rad-Away, and Rad-X, as well as Jet, Buffout, and Mentats, though the latter three had to be of diluted quality. Chem dealers were explicitly forbidden, however, from selling other chems like Psycho, Daddy-O, and Daytripper. Whatever the rhyme or reason was for these ordinances, Mariah was not sure. It seemed sort of arbitrary to her what chems were allowed to be sold.
There was plenty of variety elsewhere. Some weapons and armor salespeople were around as well, though there were several GCU personnel hanging around for extra security. A few vendors had tamed animals for pets on sale. The green anole lizard was a tiny creature in the Pre-War days that grew considerably in size due to radioactive fallout. Some were even the size of larger dog breeds. Despite the mutations, anole lizards remained mostly friendly towards humans and were a relatively popular pet. Some stalls featured Pre-War relics, from the relatively common to the harder to find. Mariah bought a hat that came with an advertisement denoting that it was a product from Florida-based Cooler Heads Technology, with the tagline of “Cooler Heads Prevail!” Apparently, the Pre-War company sold various accessories that were supposed to cool someone off in the hot sun by generating their own cool air, even more desirable in the Post-War heat. Surprisingly, the hat still worked.
Mariah and Valentina split up briefly to poke around the stalls that interested them. Mariah stocked up on some extra 10MM ammo for her pistol. She also looked at the anole lizard pets, though much as she would have liked to buy one, she figured it would be best for now to hold off on doing so.
Mariah finished perusing the stalls and went to find Valentina to regroup, but one last stall surrounded by a dozen people particularly caught her attention. Some of them were already departing when Mariah went to go check it out. The tarp had a symbol on it featuring what looked to be several buildings with sunlight shining down on them. Brochures and other paraphernalia were on the stall’s table featuring the same symbol.
[
Fallout Soundtrack: Second Chance]
As Mariah approached the stall, she saw a man sitting on the other side of the table. His left arm appeared to be mostly bandaged. He sat with his hands clasped in front of him and sat upright, talking to some of the citizens that came to the stall. As Mariah started looking at a brochure, the man turned his attention to her, having finished with the other citizens as they walked away with brochures in hand. “Ah, well, hello there, young lady,” the man spoke in a resonant voice. “Can I interest you in a bit of a chat?”
“Oh, um, sure.” Mariah had not planned on staying very long, but her curiosity got the better of her.
“Wonderful. Please, have a seat, dear child,” he gestured politely to the seat on the other side of the table.
“Oh, please don’t call me child,” Mariah laughed nervously, sitting down. “My name’s Mariah.”
“Ah, my apologies, Mariah. I hope I did not offend. My name’s Jonah.” Mariah got a better look at Jonah, seeing some gray stubble on his chin and jawline. He appeared to be no older than his late 40s or early 50s. “Are you new to this city?”
“Yep, I come from . . . quite far from here. Far from Florida.”
“Indeed, something about you indicates that you are well-traveled. Traveling may be dangerous, but it opens your mind to the world around you.” The way Jonah spoke—his clear and resonant speech, the rate at which he talked, and his level of volume—his posture, everything about him indicated that he was talented at public speaking. Something about him made him very approachable. “Given that you are new to the area, I assume you have not heard of my organization, the Temple of New Life. May I talk with you about that?”
“Oh, uh . . .,” Mariah stuttered. She had seen her fair share of Post-War cults, both benign and malevolent. There always seemed to be something off about the people in them, even if they were not outright violent. Jonah did not seem to give off any of these sorts of vibes, but Mariah was still unsure.
“I understand the apprehension. Obviously, it is easy for me to say, but I assure you we of the Temple of New Life are not like any cult you may have encountered in your travels. We are not merely a religious organization. We are a way of life, a community, a shelter from the dangers that the Sunshine Wasteland and beyond have to offer.” It was one of the few times Mariah heard somebody refer to Florida as the Sunshine Wasteland. His words put her more at ease.
While Mariah was not exactly in the market for proselytization, Jonah’s words made her more curious about what this Temple of New Life was. “Well, that’s reassuring. So, are you a priest or something?”
Jonah chuckled. “I suppose you could say that, though I and my Templar Brothers and Sisters do not use that terminology. We prefer the term ‘Speaker.’ Speakers go out all across the wastes to spread our message of faith, community, and hope. Such values are in desperately short supply in these lands, don’t you agree?” Mariah nodded her head. “Well, while we aren’t so fanatical and abrasive, those values are ultimately what lead people to join these cults. To join any group. And those values lead to one overarching concept. Something endemic to the human spirit. What do you think that is?”
Mariah pondered for a moment, then simply shrugged and shook her head. “What is it?”
Jonah gestured with an open palm. “It’s purpose.” He paused as if to let the power of the answer fill the air. “Think about it, Mariah. What leads people to join these organizations you hear about? The ultimate reason, I mean. It’s a common thread whether you are a cult, the GCU, the Dissidents, the Brotherhood of Steel, the Temple of New Life, you name it. The goals and beliefs may all differ, but at the end of the day, human beings want to find meaning in their lives. They want to matter in some way. To feel as though they made some sort of impact. To be completely forgotten in the annals of history and by future generations is one of the most terrifying prospects for many people. And I believe that your journey for purpose is what brought you here to Florida.”
Mariah cocked her head, giving a slightly confused look. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You may not realize it, Mariah, but that is what brought you to these lands. Long-wandering sojourners and wayfarers that constantly move about do so because they are searching for their meaning in life. When the Great War happened, most of the survivors were left wondering what their purpose was. What the purpose of life
in general was. When the bombs dropped, it led many people to abandon their faiths. Their values. They felt they had nothing to turn to, and so they had to seek out some sort of purpose. Many people from all sorts of religious backgrounds—Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, tribal beliefs, you name it—abandoned their faiths when nuclear fire engulfed the world, though many of them certainly still survived. Many people turned to the numerous cults that sprouted in the Post-War world. Regardless of religion, many ostensibly, formerly, or would-be good, neighborly people turned to raiding. They felt that that was all they had. Attempts to recreate civilization have been made all around the world. And it all leads back to one thing: Purpose.”
“I . . . suppose so,” Mariah considered what Jonah had to say. She was not really sure what drew her to Florida, but maybe Jonah was right. Maybe she had been searching for purpose all this time.
“And that’s why the Temple of New Life does what it does. Sure, we have our religious beliefs. But more importantly it is to help people find purpose. Community. Hope. The meaning of life.”
As Mariah considered his words some more, Valentina came from behind. “There you are! It’s almost noon and I have to head down to the station. You’re still coming, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Val.” Mariah turned to Jonah. “I, uh, gotta go, Jonah. But this was, um, interesting.”
“Of course, Mariah. I do not wish to keep you from your business. But please, take a brochure to learn more about the Temple,” Jonah handed her one. As Mariah took it, Jonah added, “And remember my words. What brought you to this table.” Mariah paused and then simply nodded her head.
As Valentina and Mariah walked away, the former teased the latter. “Looking to join a cult?”
“Haha. No, I was just curious about it. Seemed pretty popular over there earlier. He didn’t seem crazy, though.”
“The ones who are good at concealing the crazy are the ones you need to watch out for most,” Valentina half-joked.
Mariah chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.” But she could not help but think about Jonah’s words as they walked down to the station.
///////////
As Mariah and Valentina came through the front door, Jacob and Commander Bertrand were talking to one of the codebreakers. Bertrand turned to them. “Ah, good, you’re here Val.” Bertrand then looked at Mariah. “And hello again, Mariah.”
“Hello, Commander,” Mariah nodded. It was still awkward between the two of them though tensions had significantly lessened since last night’s confrontation.
Bertrand held up a piece of paper. It was the coded message that was found on one of the dead Dissidents from the caravan attack. “Gerald may act like a tough guy, but one night in prison and he got talking. And now we know where they are holed up.”
Mariah’s face lit up. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get going!”
“Whoa, let’s slow down, Mariah. First of all, we are preparing to head out. This is not some spur-of-the-moment thing. This is a whole operation we are planning. We are figuring out how many troops we can and should spare. We need to get our Anole and Kolossi mounts together as well as . . .”
“Wait, what? Anole mounts? And what are Kolossi?”
“Oh, right, you’re from outside of Florida. You may have seen and heard of some amazing creatures across the old U.S., but I can guarantee that you haven’t seen anything like what Florida has to offer. It was arguably the most biologically impressive and diverse Pre-War state, and a lot of species made it through the War, though the radiation has caused some significant changes. Some of the Anole lizards are big enough that they can carry cargo or even hold a human or two as riders. The Kolossi—what used to be monitor lizards and sometimes mistaken for Komodo Dragons—are big units now and especially well-equipped for those duties, though there are many out in the wastes that are hostile. There is very little Pre-War technology like bicycles at our disposal that we can spare right now, so we often go a little more . . . organic.”
“That’s incredible,” Mariah said, her mouth slightly open in wonderment.
“It is indeed. Anyway, we are gathering up our resources and preparing to head out tomorrow. But secondly—and I know you do not want to hear this—we cannot bring you with us, Mariah.” Bertrand held up his hand before Mariah could object. “And before you say it, no, this is not because of last night. I think that would be petty.” He sighed. “Look, I know what you are capable of, Mariah. I appreciate what you did for the caravan and I know you can fight. But this is a full-fledged operation we are talking about. We cannot take civilians with us on something like this.”
Mariah was not the only one taken aback. Valentina apparently did not expect Bertrand to prevent Mariah from joining. “Commander, please, if I may.” Bertrand stayed silent for a moment, indicating that she could continue. “Sir, please reconsider your decision. We need all the fighters we can get, and I think Mariah deserves to have a shot at this after what she went through. Jacob, please tell me you feel the same way.” Valentina turned to Jacob with a look of hope on her face.
Jacob stood still for a moment and then simply sighed. “I’m sorry, Val, but that’s Commander’s orders. I know what Mariah is capable of, but the Commander is right. She is a civilian and not trained for anything like this.”
“Look, Mariah,” Bertrand added, “I know you want to help. I understand your desire for revenge. But this is not something you are ready for and your emotions may cloud your judgment.”
Mariah may have been defiant yesterday but now she could only feel disappointment. She knew that neither she nor Val could change the Commander’s mind. But she was determined to find out all the information she could about the operation. She was going to find some way to join even if she had to do so surreptitiously. “Well, can I at least know where you are going?”
“I’m sorry, but no. We must keep as many details under wraps as we can. I cannot just tell civilians all of the inner workings of what we do. Besides, something tells me that you would follow us. I’m not going to put you in harm’s way if I can help it.”
Dejected, Mariah responded, “Alright.”
“I’m sorry, Mariah. Please, go back to wherever you are staying in town. I need to brief Jacob and Val on this.”
“You can still stay at my place. Here’s a key,” Val said to Mariah, also with a disappointed look on her face.
With Val’s key, Mariah left outside the front door of the station and stood in place on the street, not sure what to do next. She pulled out the brochure that Jonah handed her earlier in the day and read the content inside. It talked about a city named Eden far to the south in Florida, though it did not give any specific location, perhaps for its protection. The brochure also mentioned someone simply called “The Redeemer,” which Mariah supposed was their god. But when she read further, the paper seemed to indicate that it was an actual person that was their spiritual guide. She was not really sure. Mariah was not exactly interested in joining, per se, but she figured she’d learn as much as she can about what goes on in Florida. After all, she wasn’t planning on leaving it any time soon.
As Mariah put the brochure away, she suddenly had an idea of how to find out where the GCU was going to attack the Dissidents. The GCU station’s jail stood right next door, having not only a connected hallway to the station but a separate door from the street as well. If Mariah was going to find out the information she needed, she needed to go straight to the source: Gerald.
As she stepped into the jail’s entrance, a guard stood watch over the cells. He looked up at Mariah as she walked through the door. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Hi. Can I speak to one of the prisoners?”
“I’m sorry, but the jail is not open for visitations right now.”
“Please, it’s urgent.”
Skeptical, the guard folded his arms. “Who do you want to see and why?”
Mariah thought the truth would not get the guard to let her go by, but she could not think of a convincing lie. The truth was all that she could go with. “It’s the Dissident prisoner. He attacked my caravan I rode in on the way here and I want to confront him about it.”
“Hmmm . . . I suppose Dissidents could always use a beating, even if it is only verbal.” The guard thought for a moment longer. “Fine, but only because I think you’re a good kid. Even though I shouldn’t be doing this right now. Just make it quick, okay? We don’t need either one of us getting in trouble."
“Thank you,” Mariah said with a sigh of relief and a hint of surprise. She wasn’t thrilled about going to see Gerald either, so she didn’t plan on spending much time there. But she needed to know what he told Bertrand and Jacob.
“He’s in the tenth cell to the right.”
As Mariah reached Gerald’s cell, she saw him sitting on a stool against the wall. But he looked far more ragged than before. His prisoner’s clothing was drenched in sweat and dirt and his skin was red from sunburns. He looked up when Mariah stood in front of the cell, wryly smiling. “I knew you couldn’t get enough of me, baby. Nice of you to visit. Why don’t you show me a little skin?” Gerald apparently amped up the sarcasm and creepiness from yesterday. His voice was as ragged as he looked due to thirst.
Mariah had to stop herself from vomiting. “You’re looking pretty awful right now.”
“Yeah, well, that ‘special box’ that your GCU overlords stuck me in can be thanked. Tied me up in place and gagged me and made sure to put me underneath a hole in the roof so I could be roasted like a brahmin by the sun. And some mirrors or something on the roof to make it even hotter. Anything goes in these parts including torture, it seems.”
“Not like you didn’t deserve it,” Mariah sniped back. The ‘special box’ seemed to have been quite effective at getting Gerald to talk.
“Oh, spare me your self-righteous drivel. What do you want, anyway?”
“I want to know what you told the Commander. Why you attacked the caravan and where your friends are hiding.”
Gerald leaned forward with an irritated look on his face. “You want me to tell you after what you did to Evan? Oh, that’s right, you don’t know Evan. He was the guy that you cut up at the caravan.”
“Oh, you mean the guy that murdered my caravan driver and friend right in front of me and thought he could kill me from behind? That one?”
Gerald was visibly angered. “Yeah, him, you [censored]. He was my friend. You can’t do anything to me here. You’ll get nothing out of me.”
Mariah then remembered she had a bottle of purified water on hand. With how parched Gerald looked, she knew he would want some. And she certainly was not going to give into any of his carnal desires. “You look thirsty, Gerald. But you know, I could use a drink, too. Maybe I’ll just drink this water right in front of you.”
Gerald’s thirst got the better of him and he switched to begging mode. “[Censored], please give me some, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! You have my word," he said hoarsely.
Mariah understandably wasn’t confident that his word could be trusted, but she had no other choice if she wanted to get information out of him. “Very well.”
Gerald gulped down half of the bottle and let out a refreshed ‘ah.’ “As much as it pains me to say it, thanks. You may be a GCU dog, but I’m a man of my word. So I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“I’m not part of GCU.”
“You work with them. Might as well be one of them. But fine, what is it you want to know?”
“I want to know why you attacked the caravan and where you all are holed up.”
Gerald lowly chuckled. “Oh, the Commander and his lackey didn’t tell you? Of course the GCU is going to be secretive. They don’t want anybody knowing anything truthful about them.” Gerald pulled the stool closer to the cell door and gingerly sat back down. His sunburns were clearly painful. “Do you like storytime?”
Mariah furrowed her eyebrows. “What does that have to do with what I asked?”
“Because it’s relevant. And you should know what the GCU is all about. What they don’t tell you.”
Mariah was going to have to hear what Gerald had to say and she knew it. “If the story is good, sure,” she said somewhat tongue-in-cheek. “Is this about Birmingham?”
“Ah, perceptive, aren’t you? Perception one of your strong suits? Anyway, yeah, it’s about that.” Gerald took a deep breath. “When the Alabama Compact became part of the GCU, us Dissidents weren’t thrilled with it. Downright angry about it. We didn’t need some blowhards in Florida, Mississippi, and Louisiana making decisions for us. So, we decided we’d go up north, distance ourselves from our fellow Alabamians that betrayed us and their new out-stater friends. Out-staters are what we call people from those three Pre-War states, and now we use it for Alabamians in the GCU because we are the true Alabama.
“Anyway, we go up north and separate ourselves, right? We are just a humble, sovereign, and self-determining people. We don’t cause much of a fuss. We just leave. Well, years later, GCU decides they want some of our land now. They got their panties in a bunch because we didn’t want to be a part of them. They come to annex some of our land and we fight back. In particular, they want this Pre-War military facility that we have over near Birmingham--or rather what was inside that facility. So, naturally, they decide that something that is not theirs belongs to them. And as we start fighting, you know who else decides to join in on the fun? The Brotherhood of Steel. The guys in the power armor and with the energy weapons. At first, we thought the GCU brought them along, but we realized quickly that the Brotherhood was doing it on their own. The Brotherhood ain’t about working with anybody outside of their group. Hell, they might be even worse than the GCU, but they just don’t have their own country. We knew about them being further out to the west, but now they start coming way east. They’re just like GCU in thinking they have some divine mandate to take anything they want and keep it away from everyone else.
“And so there is this big three-way battle between the GCU, Brotherhood, and us. Lots of dead bodies on all sides. Absolute massacre. And people living in Birmingham that had nothing to do with it also died. In the end, this thing that was in that military facility was gone. GCU and Brotherhood claims that the other had it or we did, but we know at least one of them is full of [censored]. Now we’re coming to reclaim that thing that was ours and to push out the GCU. Pay back the Brotherhood too and give them a taste of their own medicine.”
“And what is this thing that is supposedly yours?” Mariah asked.
“Some sort of prototype technology from Pre-War. I don’t understand it, honestly. But it’s something very important, I assure you. GCU and the Brotherhood wouldn’t have showed up otherwise.”
“You thought our caravan had this technology?” Anger started creeping back into Mariah’s voice.
“GCU’s got it. We know it.”
“You don’t even know! You attacked our caravan on a hunch! There was nothing to indicate that we had it and people needlessly died because of you [censored]!” Mariah felt the urge to pull out her 10MM pistol but fought it back.
“Look, I don’t expect a GCU lackey to understand. And I’m not going to reveal all our secrets and intel. But I’ll tell you where we are. You can find out more about us up close and personal. I did give you my word.”
“Then where are they?”
“There used to be a Pre-War town called Holt, right on the old U.S. Route 90. Obliterated in the War. In the town is an abandoned Fusion! factory. You know Nuka-Cola? Well, Fusion! was a Florida-based soft drink company and Nuka-Cola came to infringe on its turf, so there is an abandoned factory for Nuka-Cola not too far from there as well. But you got to find the one that is for Fusion! We are holed up in that area.” Gerald became thirsty again from all the talking. He chugged the rest of the water bottle and tossed it back to Mariah through the cell bars. “There. You got what you wanted. Much as I like you as eye candy, it also drives me crazy when I’m sitting in this cell. Unless you want to join me?” Gerald slowly licked his lips.
“Ugh, gross.” Mariah almost vomited again. “You’re lucky I don’t just pop you with a bullet or two, Gerald. Still, thanks for the info.”
“Sure thing, darling.”
Mariah turned and started walking away, but one more question came to mind. She turned around. “You know, you seemed pretty defiant yesterday. And then one night goes by and you start talking. Why? Was it that bad of a tough-guy act?”
Gerald thought for a moment. “I just . . . decided to change my mind.” It sounded like he wanted to say something else initially. He walked up to the cell bars and wrapped his hands around two of them. “Because you don’t know what you all are in for.”
Mariah pondered his ominous words, thinking about what exactly he meant. She then continued walking back out of the jail. She headed back to Val’s home to start hatching a plan to join the GCU raid on the Dissidents’ compound.