Fallout: Light it up! (Fallout NV Boomers(?) Quest)

Spoiler: Winning Plan

[X] Plan Fort Up w/Militia

-[ ] Southern Front
--[ ] Normal Security Detachment
-[ ] Central Front
--[ ] Heavy Security Detachment
-[ ] Northwestern Front
--[ ] Normal Security Detachment

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Quickly the Vault Security Force get moving, officers barking orders as officers and civilians alike scramble to act. It was a good thing your Vault Security Force was so oversized, owing to a tradition of reservists and them having been called up a couple months ago by the previous Overseer to maintain order. This meant you had a healthy number of equipped forces on hand, even if they weren't quite used to fighting with the normal Security full loadout, never mind the gear that the Heavy Detachment sported.

Regardless they would be fighting soon now as instructions were given. The Security Force would be split into three different forces here. The Northwest and South would be covered by the normal Vault Security Forces, as the Center would contain the core of heavy troops.

Erect Defenses
Despite having the high ground, that doesn't stop the incoming raiders from being able to shoot you. Digging up and building some basic defenses should help quite a bit!
Cost: 1 Action Point
Chance of Success: 85%
Result: +5 to Defense Roll against normal enemy Attack Roll
Note: Can be taken more then once, with each attempt increasing the DC by 10.

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Needed: 15
Rolled: 41

Security Troops and civilian volunteers alike would begin working on defenses, using shovels, various other tools, and their own hands to dig out basic entrenchments and build up cover. Scrap wood and rocks are collected and rolled over to add a bit extra, and firing ports cleared.

It wasn't much, but it would help soak up incoming fire.

Result: Basic defenses erected. +5 to Defense Rolls against normal enemy Attack Rolls.

Clear Cover
The raiders will be moving up towards you, and while you have quite the excellent position, it doesn't hurt to reduce what they'll have to work with.
Cost: 1 Action Point
Chance of Success: 75/20%
Result: -5 to enemy Defense Roll, possible -10.

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Needed: 25/80
Rolled: 50

As this happened, others travelled down the slopes under the cover of darkness and vigilant guards, some of your people went down the slopes and trails leading upwards as they looked through the area for potential cover to remove. Bumps and holes are smoothed over, rocks were moved out of the way, old debris was removed, and shrubbery was cleared.

It wasn't perfect unfortunately, as some rocks and areas of cover were simply too big or time-consuming to deal with. Nonetheless, this would assist well in leaving the potential attackers exposed.

Results: A good portion of cover on the slopes and trails leading up Frenchman Mountain from the guarded approaches are cleared. -5 to Enemy Defense Rolls.

Raise Volunteers
You have your inflated Vault Security Force on hand, but in times like this more may be needed. As a result, asking for volunteers to form a militia detachment for the fight could be helpful to either plug a gap, bolster a front, or act as reserves. They'd all have their own weapons, and many have gone to the range at least a few times, but there'll be no armor for them. Furthermore, both a lack of proper training and mostly wielding shorter range weapons like SMGs, pistols, and shotguns won't help with longer-range fighting besides suppressive fire. To say nothing of the risk of losing irreplicable dwellers.
Cost: 1 Action Point
Chance of Success: 80%
Result: Militia Detachment raised

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Needed: 20
Rolled: 15

This, unfortunately didn't go as well, and it started off with that particular order being lost for long enough that the search began late.

It first started with eliminating who absolutely could not be in the fighting. Various experts and important personnel were marked there, along with those too young, old, sick, or injured to participate along with involved caretakers. Then came the issue of those able enough to fight, and while practically everyone has fired a couple guns at some point or another, actual knowledge on what to do and fighting under combat conditions was highly limited.

Considering that more then a few of the explosive and gun nuts had to be reminded to actually stay in cover, on top of the relative lack of longer-range weapons, it left only some capable of being brought up as a reserve militia as quite simply there wasn't enough time or available people to give a quick training course. And, after a review, those capable were not enough to form an entire new detachment.

In the end, it was decided to keep what few had been brought up as a final defense for the camp- both from raiders and from anything else that may come along.

Result: Due to various circumstances, a solid militia reserve could not be brought up for the battle. What few were deemed as acceptable will instead guard the camp.

It was as you were overlooking final preparations that everyone heard it, the sharp retorts of sudden gunfire. Harsh whispers and short orders are issued, and what few lights were on that could be visible from the urban ruins were shut off.

Gazing in the direction of the shots, you'd thankfully note that they weren't towards you. However, they were in ruins that weren't all that far either, and now that you looked there were a couple faint and distant lights in that area, joined by a few tracers going up in the air from another burst.

"Overseer, you must get back to the camp now." One of the officers say, getting a curt nod from you a moment later as you turn to head back.

It was largely out of your hands now, so all you could do was wait and hope.

---

"Heya Boss man, we cleared out the last of those hiders! Turns out it was a bunch of those Crimson Moon morons. Thought those idiots had been wiped out a couple months ago, but it looks like they've just been licking their wounds." One of his Lieutenants tells him, reporting on what all the gunfire from a couple moments ago had been about.

He simply grunts and wave him away, his thoughts churning as the man starts to go in one direction before pausing and heading in another. That gets an annoyed sigh by the muscled and scarred man who ran the Banda De La Tormenta, figuring that the Lieutenant was just about to go get a hit before remembering the orders given to him. At least he actually followed them. Old habits died hard, and a decent few of the underlings and a few of the leaders were still getting wasted or high. Not helped at all by what had happened recently.

It still left him grated and confused, just what had happened over the past few days. Those House-worshipping Putos had always been rivals in their part of the city, their knack with technology and old robots being enough to stalemate his Banda, and one way or another had always been a thorn in his side ever since he brought his people up north here.

But all of a sudden they had gone on the offensive! With more laser weapons then he had ever seen a single force have and robots shiny enough to be right off the assembly line... probably. They weren't rusty or old looking at least, and it showed.

Either way, it had left his forces reeling, and he had been forced to make a withdrawal with what he managed to gather together. For some reason the Cultists hadn't pursued despite there being blood in the water. Maybe they were digesting their gains, or were facing tough resistance from a few of his boys and girls who had stayed behind or were cut off?

It left him a bit of breathing room nonetheless, room which he needed to regroup and figure out what to do next. The first step was old Frenchie, the mountain a decently defendable spot and with a good vantage point of the surrounding area, along with hopefully being high enough to get an easier connection with what of his Banda was scattered around. From there... he'd figure out what to do. He wanted revenge against the House Cult, but as is he was too weakened. Plus, he had to worry about both other gangs and the Rangers seeing an opportunity. The former in order to take out a rival, and the latter due to his people being one of the largest and most stubborn groups still around doing the slave trade. Maybe-

Then he heard a small boom and a couple yells, causing him to sigh and get up from his seat. He'd better go and make sure they properly managed to check for traps or hidden weapons among the new slaves.

---

AN: And there's the end of the preparation phase, plus an extra little interlude from the perspective of the incoming raider leader.

Next post will be war!

Also, I apologize for the delays, college has recently picked up so updates are slower as I focus between that and other things.

The entire western slope of Frenchman Mountain remained dark and silent in the early hours of March 5th, 2231. Yet it was not barren, as up to a few hundred armor clad men and women from Vault 34 laid in wait- guns at the ready. Due to the upcoming battle and the unusual-feeling cold of the night causing many to shift in their spots, restless or uncomfortable, yet silence and discipline was maintained due to a mixture of both standard and Security-Force training along with the trigger discipline taught due to the open armory back in the Vault.

Yet even that ended as lights steadily appeared in the ruins below, along with distant yells and clangs and the occasional shot. The defenders lying in wait watched as the large group of raiders gathered at what was guessed to be the bombed out husk of an old school, the raider force just a bit below them in size seeming to set up camp there- if only seemingly basic stuff as debris was moved around to form barricades and cover as the couple remaining intact buildings on the school grounds were swiftly occupied. Not too much in the way of accurate details could be gleamed, but it was noticed that there were a trio of modified vehicles among them: large pickup trucks that had been modified extensively: heavy armor encompassing it and the flatbed sporting a heavy weapons mount and raised armored sides for cover.

The question of whether they would stay at the hastily set up camp or if they keep coming forward quickly became revealed however when the vast majority of the camp members began to move. Quickly they seemed to split up into three teams coincidentally matching the three fronts set up by the Vault Defenders; the two infantry based ones heading for the trails on the center and southern fronts while a third force began to move at a slow pace along with the vehicles towards the northwestern trail. There being relatively few defenders left at the camp was noted, but it was something that couldn't be taken advantage of until after at least one of the raider forces was dealt with.

And so the defenders watched as the raider groups began moving up the slope, and just when they get to the right spot...

The radio signal is given. The darkness is lit up, and the battle begins.



On the Southern Front, things do not start off well.

The first bursts of fire end up being incredibly off-aim, and by the time that the shots are corrected the raider mob had quickly rushed behind what cover remained and hadn't been uprooted. Frustrated with this, a few of the more hot blooded Vault defenders stand up from cover to try and get a better angle- only for counterfire from the raiders to send them down- a few due to bullets having hit them. Fortunately after some quick examination they were found to only be wounded, but it nonetheless serves to cool the temper of the defenders.

Further north on the Central Front, the beginning ambush goes well- a number of raiders caught out in the open and blasted to bits by the Heavy Detachment's explosive arsenal. This manages to suppress the experienced raiders, who scramble to cover. Experience and age allows them to maintain coherence, but it is quickly shown that trying to poke out from cover would be a very dangerous venture as bullets continued to rain down on their position.

Things seem to go the best on the Northwestern Front, as the raiders had traveled into the small valley on that side of the Mountain. This left them in a critically bad position as the Security Forces opened up there, mowing down many of the surprised thugs before they could even scramble for cover. Sporadic counterfire came from their ranks, managing to hit a few of your people in the exchange, but your forces definitely dealt the better blow.

Best of all was that the three Technicals never had a chance to be used. A pair of sniper rifles bark out, their bullets managing to impact the drivers of the lead and rear vehicle, leaving the rear one to simply come to a stop while the front one drives on for a moment longer, slowing but not stopping, before bumping into the dead husk of a tree. The third Technical simply goes up in a fireball as the combined gunfire of a couple dozen people quickly wears it down, one of the bullets managing to find it's way to the Nuclear Fusion engine and start a meltdown. Further shots make sure that the two disabled but intact technicals don't have anyone manning the guns, leaving the threat level of this theatre heavily reduced.


The fighting continues as the initial ambush begins to transition into a more open slugfest, if one that your people still have a definite edge in. The sounds gunshots, explosions, yells, and cries fills the night as the great battle raged on.

In the south, things progressed at a grueling pace as the Raiders slowly but surely tried to work their way up the slopes. A number of them would go down, but the volume of fire would be enough to allow many others to make their ways upwards, along with occasionally striking true- one Vault Dweller going down with a bullet through the arm as another collapses back, a raider having managed to track the bursts of fire coming from the woman's SMG quickly enough to take her down.

In the center the situation was both better and worse. The raiders here, more experienced and equipped then most of their fellows, fought well against the Vault Defenders as they held their ground- as they knew that either withdrawing or advancing would lead to decimation from the heavier weapons.

This was still happening however, as the explosive weaponry gathered from Vault 34 proved it's worth. Unguided rockets streaked across the darkness and struck rocks, blowing apart cover and injuring those behind it, as launched grenade-shells would streak downwards to impact the Raider formation like improvised artillery, taking down a few at a time. The Raiders here however would show their worth as they accurately fired back, and while the combat-grade armor would serve the Vault defenders well, several would be hit in more vulnerable spots or by ballistics that would still manage to punch through, unfortunately leaving a decent few dead.

In the northwest however, the story could be said different...

--- Northwestern Front: Raider POV ---

When Jerrek had signed up with the Banda De La Tormenta a couple years back, it had seemed like a good gig. The Banda was one of the top factions of the Old Vegas ruins, powerful enough to contend with the fierce competition in the city from other groups big and small. Hell, they were even powerful enough to keep the constantly at siege slave trade going despite how avidly those like the Desert Rangers, the Enforcers, and more distant groups like the Californians hunted down such efforts. And while he wasn't personally a supporter of the institution either, he nonetheless respected the Banda's ability to weather this attention and stay strong.

And so he had left his old man's caravan and joined up, bringing with several years of experience travelling the wastes and having dealt with his fair share of combat fighting off wildlife, tribals, and raiders. He even sweetened the pot a bit with the contents of an ambulance that had somehow been unlooted up until now, the gang definitely enjoying both the medical supplies and the drugs.

Because of all of that he had avoided being put into a role was only a couple steps better then literal cannon fodder, with him working hard to cement the fact that he had earned it. He fought and bled for the Banda, and while he wasn't about to say they were family or close comrades he would die for, he was at least happy with his decision.

Of course, all of that was brought into doubt now.

The past couple weeks had been a bit brutal for the Banda. At first it was just a normal if busy time. Conflict with the Cult had heated up, an influx of new recruits were busy being trained up, and some new tribes and gangs were the city were causing the normal chaos and upheaval.

Then all of a sudden the Cult got serious. Laser weapons and shiny bots started to appear among their members, and they seemed to know where every single patrol, stash, outpost, and base was. True their dicipline and battle-smarts were still lacking as per normal, but it seemed like any somewhat smart or competent leaders and soldiers were brought in all at once. Last he heard before the Big Boss himself ordered the discussions to end was that five strongholds and several hundred of their numbers were dead, and while a few areas stayed strong much of the core of their territory was captured or breaking apart.

He'll admit that it had shaken his faith and loyalty in the Banda, but he held on. The Banda after all were strong, and while they were shattered, the pieces could still be picked back up and assembled. Something that the Boss likely had in mind, if he was regrouping at old Frenchie.

Now that had all gone to shit. One moment he was advancing with his fellows of the Banda up the trail, a few fellows bantering behind him as the Technicals slowly rolled upwards. The next tracers were flying and bodies were dropping as one of the technicals blew up.

Mind blank for a moment, Jerrek tried to recover his wits as he sat behind a large rock, one of the few solid pieces of cover around.

"Jerrek! What do we do!?"

The yell finally drove him from his mind as he looked to the right, seeing one of the grunts yell at him. Why was he asking him!?

"The hell are you asking me for? Zed's in charge!" He yells back.

"Zeds fuckin' dead man! Same with Yorna and David! Grimsaw's knocked out too!" The guy yelled back, causing Jerrek's stomach to drop.

Those were the most experienced among this group, and also the informal chain of command. There was still Allen, but the guy was a coward who was only as high up as he was due to one of the rare cases of nepotism, and everyone knew that.

Which meant that... he was really in charge. Fuck.

"Dammit alright... what's the status of our other Technicals and heavy weapons!?" He yells, trying to get information on the situation to get a better read.

"Both of the other vehicles are knocked out, they got the drivers! The guns on them are being kept unmanned, anyone tryin to get to them is getting brained!" One of the newer members who had risen up beyond simple recruit yelled rather calmly, causing Jerrek to note that for later despite the situation. A good head is always in demand in a crew.

Sending that errant thought away, he focused back in just in time to hear someone else report.

"-ly two machine guns left. Grenadiers are still alive th-"

That was interrupted by a chain of explosions which thankfully happened a distance away. It still caused him to press himself against the ground though. Wait, that was-

"...Nevermind on that Jerrek. They're all dead."

"Oh god dammit. Is Terry still alive at least!?" He asked, referencing their sole radio man. The Technicals had their own radios, but good luck trying to access them now.

"Negative, but I think I know what you're talking about. He mentioned before he died that the other two groups are fighting. Wasn't any word from the camp itself before he got shot. The radio pack looked damaged too last I saw."

This was truly a shitshow. Being pinned and mowed down like Mole Rats. Few heavy weapons left, no vehicles, likely no reinforcements.

...Fucking dammit, he'll take the risk.

"Tork! Get your boys stimmed up! Use the Blood-Rage combo, and grab the remaining machine guns!"

Ignoring the 'hell yeah' and distant laughter from that, he glanced at those around either behind his rock or the nearby bits of cover.

"Alright, when Tork's boys drug up, they'll light up whoever the hell is shootin' at us and provide a great distraction. When that happens, grab whatever you can in terms of gear and wounded and follow me, we're getting out of here, preferably alive."

While he noticed some looks of uncertainty at that, he ignored them and focused back towards the front. Tork and 'his boys' was their groups bunch of heavy addicts which for the most part were thankfully of the Brute or Berserker category. Buffout, Psycho, Jet, and whatnot were their mainstays. The 'blood-rage' combo mentioned before was a mixture of PsychoJet and a pair of stimpacks, meant to cause great damage and destruction in a burning fury. The effect would be reduced out here, but it would at least keep them going for a while during which they'd let loose.

He only had to wait a couple more moments before he began to hear the bloodthirsty and carefree roars and cries alongside a drastic increase in gunfire, and a check would reveal that they had gotten to work- lighting up the towering slopes. Many stepped out of cover to do so, and a few even began to charge. That... he had hopped wouldn't happen, but it would at least draw their attention further away from the escapees. And just as planned, only a few shots streaking down towards them.

"This is it! Come on!" He yelled out, rushing out of cover as the others begin following suit. Only some yards away he slows briefly to reach down, pulling up a wounded man and throwing him over his back- the punk thankfully light enough to carry here.

They would make it out of this. And from there... well that depended on how the battle would go. In a way, he almost wished that the Storm Lord himself didn't make it. As is, he didn't know what his reaction would be if he survives and was discovered to have retreated while leaving behind others as a distraction. True he was practical, but after everything that's happened? Well, emotions get the best of us.

--- Northwestern Front: General POV ---

The northwestern raider force becomes further decimated under the combined firepower of a hundred Vault Dwellers, raining down lead onto the enemies as many of the former Vault inhabitants get to finally use their weaponry outside of a range and occasional mishap.

Some of them ended up escaping when a few of them got out from cover and begin spraying everywhere with what weapons they had. Fortunately their aim was terrible, as only one dweller got hit, and only wounded too. They took a while to put down however, and once the last of them finally dropped dead it was realized just what the others of their party had done.

And with that, the Northwestern Front was cleared with only one dead and a few wounded.


On the Southern and Central Fronts, the fighting continues on. More and more raiders fall as cover is chipped away at and the more foolish, bloodthirsty, or inexperienced attempt to move from cover- only to die for their efforts in many cases as little ground is gained. By comparison, the Vault Defenders suffer few casualties, with all of them so far being wounded.

The situation in the South changed for the better as the raiders there, over-confident due to their relatively few casualties, believing to have killed many of the defenders, and in many cases being drunk and/or high, decided to charge.

And so they rushed up the slope for all of thirty seconds, during which the Defenders gleefully reaped a toll on the charging raider mob. Finally, only about a third of the way up the slope, the raiders were forced to pause as they realized the situation- more then a third of their numbers killed or wounded, and at a point where there was almost no cover between them and the defenses.

The battle kept on here, but elsewhere developments were occurring...


--- Raider Camp: Storm Lord POV ---

Martin Guerrero's frown deepened as he looked at close by Frenchmen Mountain, the slopes still alit in the cracks of gunfire and flashes of explosions. His hand twitched towards his trusty weapon, a large blade that was just light enough to be wielded with just one hand while still having enough weight to give most combatants pause.

In all honesty, he wanted to be out there. Fighting with his boys and girls to crush whoever was giving so much resistance. The fact that it would give him something to do besides fret and brood was unsaid. The fact of the matter was however that he needed to be here, in order to keep things secure.

In his haste to clear the mountain so that they can set up there and dig out a decent defensible location, he had neglected to leave himself a sizable reserve. It should have been fine; his boys had cleared out the entire urban/suburban area leading up to the mountain of potential threats, and scouts had confirmed that nothing was approaching from elsewhere. Between that and the fact that he knew for a fact that Frenchmen Mountain normally only had Golden Geckos to contend with, at most maybe a new Cazador nest or a few random people, he had figured that quickly clearing it after a bit of preparation would be an affordable short term risk.

How the hell was he supposed to know that there was some group up on the Mountain, one that was at least capable of bogging down his forces. They weren't even responding on what few radios they had, and he can't afford to send a runner, not when the only members of his gang defending the camp were recruits!

No, he needed to be smart about this. He would wait for word to reach back, although sending a couple recruits to check on the status of the two nearest forces may be smart. He needed to know soon if he would need to further cut his losses and flee or if the situation was in hand. Thankfully the fact that there weren't any signs of lasers even from this far told him that it was likely that this wasn't the Cult of the House. Who it could be though he wasn't sure. Rangers were a possibility but an unlikely one, given the volume of tracer rounds he noticed coming from the slopes.

His thoughts dwelled to the possibility of it being the Cult, but just as he dismissed it shots rang out- streaking into the camp. One of them would be lucky enough to hit him, one of the few casualties from the initial Vaulter attack on the camp as only one other would be wounded and a third raider killed. And yet, as Martin Guerrero, Storm Lord of the Banda De La Tormenta, shook himself from his shock and got behind cover- moving for where he knew a Med-X and Stimpack were at, the main source of the losses of the attack on the raider camp quickly came to be...

--- Outside the Raider Camp: Lieutenant James Morrison POV ---

James Morrison considered himself lucky for the opportunity he had been presented.

As one of the Lieutenants of the pre-expansion Vault Security Force, he was among those chosen to command one of the fronts- the northwestern one specifically. And while he wasn't exactly a gloryhound, he was nonetheless eager to both put down the rather savage surface dwellers that decide to approach them and to show his competence and capability. And boy did he do that!

From what the communications indicated, the enemy on his front were the first to break! On top of them having managed to efficiently silence the three heavy trucks the enemy had brought!

But then, as his men and women watched the distant darkness where the raiders had run off to, he had a thought. The flank of the raiders was wide open now, so why not capitalize on it.

He had quickly made apparent his plans via communication over Pip-Boy radio, and while there was a bit of hesitance action was quickly allowed. Which was good, since he planned to at least take advantage of it by assisting the Center, but now he was given leeway to bring the majority of his troops out while a few along with the few camp defenders organized kept security going.

And so his forces had moved out, using the night to quietly but quickly approach as distantly the brutes fought against his fellow dwellers.

Eventually they had arrived at the camp outskirts and engaged, and he'll admit that the initial attack proved to be rather... lacking. Only a couple raiders had gone down from what he could see, and the group closest to them managed to either scramble behind cover or stupidly stay out of it while raising their own weapons-

-Before many proceeded to be cut down, as the raiders on the other side of the camp hastily openned fire in their direction, their fellows and the defenses they made soaking up much of the gunfire. Poor aim and distance meant that any of the rounds that sailed over those failed to hit them.

The friendly-fire shooters seemed to realize after a few moments what they had done, and after a moment of stunned silence most of them began to flee. Not wasting the opportunity he ordered the charge into the camp, quickly securing the few survivors closer to them.

"Pan out and secure the camp! Squads 2, 3, and 5, go after those escapees and deal with them! Should they get too far, return back here!" He yells out, the soldiers complying and moving to do just that.

Then a bellow was heard as one of the men hastily back up, a large man stepping up and barely missing with the swing of a rather large blade. Immediately he rushed over along with over a dozen others, quickly surrounding the man.

"Drop your weapon and put your hands up, now!"


All across the battlefield, word quickly spreads of the situation. The undertrained raiders had spread out in their haste to flee, with a couple managing to reach each of the Fronts. Managing to avoid being mowed down, the fact that the camp had been attacked and overrun spread- along with the information of the Storm Lord being seen going down.

Morale wavered intensely as the remaining raiders stayed behind cover, contemplating this fact. Soon it begins, first in the Center, and then elsewhere. Raiders begin yelling up to the Vaulters, calls of their surrender and giving up, with even a couple cases of men taking off white enough pieces of clothing and tying them to rifles before waving them.

The Southern Front was most hesitant on this, having not lost nearly as much as the other forces even if they have indeed suffered casualties, but in the end the decision was made to follow.

It takes a bit of time for the Vault Dwellers to notice this, but as the gunfire lessens and the first yells and white cloths are seen, the information quickly spreads among the defenders. The gunfire ends, and cautiously the Vaulters order the raiders out from cover- keeping them under their guns as they approach and detain them. Further into the ruined houses and smaller buildings squads dispatched by the force attacking the camp catch up with the raider survivors of the camp attack, likewise detaining them and in a couple cases saving them from mutated wildlife- specifically enlarged roaches and a pack of rat-sized cats.

All of this was unknown at the moment for the Storm Lord, who was in the middle of a bad situation himself...

--- Raider Camp: Storm Lord POV ---

"Drop your weapons and put your hands up, now!"

That yell and more came from the many armed people that now surrounded him. It had taken him a couple minutes to get back up, especially as he had to yank the mostly out bullet himself to allow the Stimpack to properly heal him, but it had been a couple minutes too much. The camp was now empty of his people save for the dead and wounded, which just left him and the reason for his camp's current state.

Out of all the forces he had expected to be the culprits, it sure as hell hadn't been a Vault. And it wasn't from a number he recognized either! Had there been a Vault up on Frenchman Mountain this whole time? Or had they come from elsewhere.

Regardless, now he was in a difficult position. While healed, he was still left a bit drained from both the hit and the experiences over the last few days. He could tough through them, but it would slow him down just a bit- and if he was to survive this he needed every bit of strength and skill he had.

He was just about to charge out in order to try to rush an escape, death be damned, when he noticed it. The distant shots had fallen silent.

He looked towards the dark mass that was the mountain, and indeed the tracers and flashes were all gone. Lights still moved about, but they were not from combat. And it was both high enough and in enough numbers that he knew it wasn't his forces.

He had been defeated, and while a part of him raged to go out in a blaze of glory and blood to avenge this blow... he was tired. He was tired and enough of him wanted to live to stop.

"I am the Storm Lord- survivor of the Year of Blood, crusher of a dozen gangs and a thousand people, and both founder and leader of the Banda De La Tormenta. And... I surrender." He says as he lowers Tempest, his favored blade, before raising his hands. The fight was over.


With the surrender of the Storm Lord, the Battle for Frenchman Mountain ended in a victory for the former inhabitants of Vault 34. The vast majority of the large raider force that had fought them had been defeated- killed or wounded with a few that had fled.

This elated your people, and the worries and fears of being overrun and destroyed by wasteland savages was now gone. Of course, it wasn't without losses. Eight Security Officers had been killed in the fighting, and another 17 wounded. While this meant that there was a 28.75 to 1 Kill/Capture ratio in favor of your people, it was still eight more dwellers now dead. And now, decisions must be made as the morning approaches.

First, what shall be done with the dead? The old practice was for the dead to be broken down/decomposed and allow for the nutrients from such to be used in fertilizing soil in hydroponics, helping to grow food while allowing for the deceased to give one last contribution. With that in addition to a small amount being cremated and stored either in the Vault Columbarium or in the possession of relatives/loved ones of the deceased. Obviously that isn't an option now, so the issue now remains on what to do with the deceased from the Vault.


[ ] Burn Them
Set up a fire pit to stack the bodies on and burn them.

[ ] Bury Them
Bury the bodies on Frenchman Mountain, where the eight made their ultimate sacrifice

[ ] Keep Them
Keep the bodies stored to the best of your capabilities and bring them with you for later burial or dealing with them.


A similar question also remains on just what to do with the dead of the Raiders.


[ ] Burn Them
Set up a larger fire pit to stack the bodies on and burn them.

[ ] Bury Them
Dig up an open pit and create a mass grave for them, using some of the captured raiders to help quickly dig this up.

[ ] Keep Them
Keep the bodies stored to the best of your capabilities and bring them with you for later burial, burning, or other use.

Then after all of that there was the issue of wounded. You had 17 wounded being dealt with on top of the 15 wounded since the Vault Accident, and those could be dealt with and continued to be cared for no problem. Yet you also had 16 wounded Raiders on your hands. How do you wish to deal with them?


[ ] Leave them be
You can't spare any treatment for them, so they'll have to make do with just what they and their fellow prisoners can fix up on their own.

[ ] Leave them behind
They're too much of a burden to care for or bring along, so it's been decided to release them once you get going. It's not like a few wounded raiders will be able to do much to you, and they're likely to die anyway from bad wounds or from those that smell blood.

[ ] Give minor treatment
You can't afford to devote the best of your medical supplies to them, but some basic fixing up can be done. It won't help for the worst cases or for long term recovery, but it'll at least help prevent infection and disease.

[ ] Give equal treatment
Enemy or not, these raiders are your prisoners and as a result your responsibility. Heal them right and heal them proper to the best of your abilities.

[ ] Give Mercy
They will only slow you down and use up valuable time and resources if brought with, and could be a potential issue if just released. Give them a cold mercy, and let them no longer be in pain or a burden.


While efforts can be made later on in securing the battlefield and recovering or preparing, there is one thing to address now. Specifically slaves, all 87 of them in captivity. Men, women, and children were all held by the raiders with collars and shackles, the former of which were explosive slave collars that you thankfully had the deactivation code for- found on the Storm Lord himself. What did you wish to do with them?


[ ] Release Them
They aren't your responsibility to deal with. Simply release them and let them go free.
[ ] Help Them
They aren't your responsibility to deal with, but at the same time you won't just let them die. Let them have a share of the loot the raiders had: weapons, supplies, meds, and such. This will help improve their odds out in the wastes.
[ ] Give an Offer
They're 87 complete strangers, but at the same time they have clearly suffered. Future losses for your forces are almost expected, so it may be useful to tag along. Maybe you'll part latter on in good terms, or maybe they'll even fully join your numbers.

[ ] No Witnesses
There can be no more witnesses to your people's presence here. Silence them.

And finally, there's the matter of the raiders you had captured. What do you want to do with them?
(Note: Some previous options may or may not match with certain options down below)


[ ] Imprison them
Simple as that, they are now your prisoners for however long and in what manner you deem important.
[ ] Let them go
Quite frankly, you don't have the time or resources to hold them. Let them go free.

[ ] Kill them
They would be a burden to keep prisoner, but at the same time you don't want to risk them causing more trouble in the future- especially for your own people. Execute them.
- [ ] Justice
The raiders are to be killed, but there's a group present who'd want their deaths much more then you. Allow the ex-slaves to kill them.
-- [ ] Revenge
Don't bother trying to temper how the slaves go about killing the raiders. No doubt the raiders inflicted many tortures and horrors upon them, so you will not prevent them from doing the same.

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AN: And there we go, finally finished! The largest post for this quest so far, and one that I spent time working and thinking over when not busy with other things.

If there's any errors or things that could use further clarification, or even simple questions, please do let me know.

You have a total of five items to vote on here:
- How you want to deal with your dead.
- How you want to deal with the Raider dead.
- How you want to deal with the Raider wounded.
- How you want to deal with the Slaves.
- How you want to deal with the (non-wounded) Raider Prisoners.

A 24 Hour Moratorium is in place, after which voting can begin!