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...I'm pretty sure that omake bonuses haven't ever been a thing in this quest. You can add named characters into the universe, you can add power blocs and fledgling nation-states if Poptart deems them canon, but I can't recall them ever influencing the result of a roll before.
...I'm pretty sure that omake bonuses haven't ever been a thing in this quest. You can add named characters into the universe, you can add power blocs and fledgling nation-states if Poptart deems them canon, but I can't recall them ever influencing the result of a roll before.
...I'm pretty sure that omake bonuses haven't ever been a thing in this quest. You can add named characters into the universe, you can add power blocs and fledgling nation-states if Poptart deems them canon, but I can't recall them ever influencing the result of a roll before.
There are no critical dice rolls in this system; a nat-100 is simply a very high roll, and vice versa. I may sometimes decide to celebrate a high roll with some additional effects, but it'll usually be in the form of part of the expected result happening before the action fully completes, or just a nice bit of flavor text.
Oh the mental image of overstretched Victorians, freezing their asses off, getting sniped at by Québécois….unfortunately for us, Blackwell isn't so incompetent.
On a completely unrelated side tangent, does Victoria have a official flag
To be fair, Blackwell could, and probably will, consider training paratroopers and airmobile troops to be used there.
Problem is, as evidenced by the map, much of upper Canada is crisscrossed by rivers and lakes that need bridges. In an area where harsh winters fuck up infrastructure, and the last major maintenance work on the roads was four decades ago. Attempting to sustain a military force across five hundred km of that terrain in the face of semi-competent opposition would be nightmarish.
Getting a paratroop force in might be possible, but getting them logistic support or reinforcements by land looks fairly improbable.
And cargo planes are hilariously vulnerable to MANPADs, bigger SAMs, and Commonwealth fighters.
[X][DEVILS] Break up the Devil Brigade to serve as a training cadre for both enlisted personnel and officer candidates.
[X] Plan: Buli-Buli Fall '76 v2
-[X][DEVILS] Break up the Devil Brigade to serve as a training cadre for both enlisted personnel and officer candidates.
-[X] Defense (1 AP)
--[X] Military Training Reform [SYP]: DC: 15. Successes Required: 2 (1 of 2 complete). AP Limit: 2. Effect: Raise army base training level to 2/5 (Trained) from 1/5 (Green), level out air force air-to-air training level to 2/5 (Trained) to match its ground attack level. New forces deploy at this level.
---[X] 1 Defense AP
-[X] State (1 AP + 3 Free AP)
--[X] Expand the Department: DC: 30. Successes Required: 2. AP Limit: 2. Effect: Gain 1 additional Department of State AP per turn.
---[X] 1 State AP + 1 Free AP
--[X] Source Foreign Arms [SYP]: DC: Dependent on sub-votes. Successes Required: 2. AP Limit: 2. Effect: Determine who is willing to sell you weapons and what they're intending to charge for them.
---[X] 2 Free AP
-[X] Domestic Affairs (1 AP + 1 Free AP)
--[X] Refugee Management: DC: 25. Successes Needed: 1. AP Limit: 2. Effect: Establish a government office responsible for managing and directing the flow of refugees in order to minimize friction with existing populations and ensure refugees' smooth resettlement. Allows you to engage competently with what promises to be an ongoing social issue for your administration.
---[X] 1 Domestic Affairs AP
--[X] State Integration Office: DC: 20. Successes Needed: 1. AP Limit: 2. Effect: Using your successful integrations of Toledo and Detroit as models, establish a small office of the Department responsible for overseeing the integration of new member states to the CFC and smoothing out potential problems.
---[X] 1 Free AP
-[X] Development (3 AP + 2 Free AP)
--[X] Green Energy [SYP]: DC: auto-pass from climate deal. Successes Needed: 2(/3) (1 of 2(/3) complete). AP Limit: 3. Effect: Fully revamp and rationalize your power grid with renewable energy sources. 2 successes replaces and rationalizes the power grid. 3 sees you fudge the numbers and get an expansion to the power grid out of it. The option will remain for one turn past the 2nd success, if there is not a 3rd in the same turn.
---[X] 2 Development AP
--[X] Infrastructure Projects [SYP]: DC: Auto-pass due to SYP bonus and Libraries reduction; a critical mass of resources and investment means that this action is now nearly trivial, requiring merely focused attention rather than a complex effort. Successes Required: 2. AP Limit: 3. Effect: Acquire the aid of Detroiter civil engineers in assessing the state of the Commonwealth's infrastructure and what needs to be done as you move forward. Unlocks infrastructure initiatives.
---[X] 1 Development AP + 1 Free AP
--[X] Industrial Assessments [SYP]: DC: 10. Successes Required: 2. AP Limit: 3. Effect: Assess your current suppliers of industrial materiel and military hardware to figure out who can be reliably expanded and who needs to be supplemented by new concerns.
---[X] 1 Free AP
-[X] Security (1 AP + 2 Free AP)
--[X] Long Tail: DC: 30. Successes Required: 1. AP Limit: 3. Effect: Improve your intelligences services' efficiency by vetting and hiring additional analysts and support staff to enable your field agents to better do their jobs.
---[X] 1 Security AP
--[X] Down the Mighty Miss [SYP]: DC: 30. Successes Required: 1. AP Limit: 2. Effect: Deepen your network along the Mississippi River, gaining access to better information.
---[X] 1 Free AP
--[X] Victorian Intelligence: DC: 30. Successes Required: 1. AP Limit: 2. Effect: Authorize additional support for Foreign Intelligence Office operations in Nova Scotia to establish new agents, before the Crusaders are pushed out and the Inquisitors can reestablish direct control.
---[X] 1 Free AP
-[X] Technological Recovery (1 AP + 1 Free AP)
--[X] Department of Education: DC: 30. Successes Needed: 2. AP Limit: 3. Effect: Found the Department of Education, which will be responsible for establishing and standardizing public schools within the Commonwealth.
---[X] 1 Technological Recovery AP + 1 Free AP
In which a racist man has racist thoughts while only partway through deprogramming.
Turn Six
Fall 2076 Results
-Memphis, Tennessee, United States-
-City of Memphis-
-Saturday, December 12, 2076, 13:58-
-Private First Class David Hartman, 5th, "Luke," Division, Victorian Army (MIA; DEFUNCT)-
David leans against the wall as Father Smith finishes chatting with the baker, keeping his rifle slung at his waist. Sighing, he pulls out his lighter and put a cigarette up to his lips, lighting up and drawing in a deep breath. Blowing out a plume of smoke, he lets his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes.
"Those'll kill you, you know," says Father Smith for the hundredth time, bustling up to him with his arms full of bags.
"I think something else'll get me first," mutters David, also for the hundredth time, pushing off of the wall and putting the cigarette between his lips. "Here, Father, let me grab those."
"I'll give you one," says Smith, relinquishing the larger bag. "Now, come along!"
David sighs, following along just as he has for the past year.
Father Smith had led David on a winding trail across the continent from the patch of wilderness where he first saved David's life, veering to and fro according to no discernable pattern David could determine. They'd hiked, hitchhiked, caught trains -- rarely -- and even taken boats.
Lots of boats, lately.
Throughout all of it, David had never really questioned what the plan was. It was obvious to him that if there was one, it wasn't one that really required a rush in the short term. His best guess was that Father Smith just had some sort of wandering ministry. Wouldn't be the first time he'd run across a traveling priest.
It wasn't his concern, anyway. He was a deserter, now; there was nothing for him back home, and nothing on all the continent that would welcome a Victorian. Smith had saved his life; he might as well return the favor, if the opportunity presents.
Thus, the rifle. Bargaining for that had taken some doing, but -- as much as he hated using the logic -- a farmer in northern Indiana has a lot less use for an -- admittedly well-maintained -- M-14 these days than he does for a good plough horse that he's too arthritic to pick up from its previous owner the next town over.
So, here he was. Age of twenty-two, following some priest around the continent without so much as a word to whether or not there was a plan.
There are worse fates.
"So, Father," he grunts, hefting the bag. "Where are we going next?" He glances into the bag; bread, and not the fresh stuff, either. Some proper loaves for the next few days, sure, but mostly hardtack. "Somewhere distant?" he guesses.
"Clever lad!" replies Smith, stepping aside from a gaggle of children running ahead of their mother. "Yes, we're heading upriver, from here!"
David's head snaps over. "Upriver?" he asks. "We've just come all the way down from Louisville!"
Smith nods, smiling. "Well, down a ways, I suppose, but then up! We're headed up the Arkansas, David!"
David shakes his head. "Y'know that's dangerous country, right Father?" he says. "I've been out that way, with the D- on work." He scowls at having to check himself, shaking his head.
"Oh, I know, I've worked that way as well," says Smith, a tight smile on his face. "But, we're going. Clear out to Colorado!"
David closes his eyes and groans. "Father, the Arkansas isn't navigable all the way out to Colorado, not for long stretches!"
"Oh, yes, there's a fair bit of walking towards the end bits," replies Smith. "Still, I do want to head out that way. Lots to do!"
David sighs, shaking his head. He knows better than to seriously argue with Father Smith about this sort of thing. "Do we have a plan?" he asks.
"Of sorts," says Smith. "There's a merchant who runs up this way as far as Tulsa sometimes, has a boat. Or, well, Catoosa, but it's more or less the same thing as far as we're concerned. Man by the name of Louie, out of St. Louis. Lets me catch a ride, whenever our paths cross. I've heard that he's in town."
"St. Louis..." muses David. "...would he happen to work for the Dixons?"
"I believe he did say so, at one point," replies Smith.
David glances around, ducking in close and whispering. "You know he'll be a smuggler, then, right?"
"We all have our sins, David, as I'm sure I need not remind you," says Smith, raising an eyebrow at him.
David sighs. "Yes, I know, just- bah, whatever." He waves it off with his free hand before fiddling with the rifle. "I'll just keep this close at hand. It's dangerous country."
Smith grins. "That's a lad! Just don't be too quick on the trigger; there are good folks out that way too, and some of them might be strange to your way of thinking. Now! Once we hit Tulsa, there's a ferryman of my acquaintance who can get us across Keystone Lake to Cleveland, save us a spell of walking. From there..."
--------------------
Louie Sharp -- "Call me Louie!" -- makes David's hair stand on end.
It comes from a confluence of factors. The fact that he works for Raymond Dixon. The fact that he smiles too much and presumes far too much in terms of friendliness. The fact that he's black doesn't help at all.
David doesn't consider himself a racist man. He is, but he doesn't think of it that way. In his mind, he is just possessed of a certain awareness of the reality of things.
Of course, he doesn't dare vocalize that, not where Smith can hear. He's caught enough lectures that he's even started thinking in Smith's preferred terms, just to avoid the possibility of slipping.
(Not that hard, for a Victorian; effortless, for an Army man. But irritating as hell, that he will admit.)
With all those things coming together, and brushing up against his grim certainty that voicing any of them will draw a lecture from the Father, David opts to simply hang back, be polite when addressed directly, and say as little as possible. Brooding, really. Perfectly respectable thing to do, brooding.
And if he's encountering just a touch of seasickness, well, that's really nobody's business.
Still, it doesn't do wonders for one's situational awareness, and so he misses most of what's said until he catches Louie saying, "Clear out to Tulsa, you say?"
"Yep, clear out!" replies Father Smith, sitting at the table.
"Well, isn't that a coincidence," says Louie, grinning. "I am heading there, Father. Have some cargo due for the Mayor, in fact!"
Smith raises his eyebrows, impressed. "Moving up in the world, Louie?"
"I'll have you know it's perfectly legitimate business," replies Louie, grinning. "I've been going straight. CFC traders are getting better terms from Mr. Dixon, lately. Wind's shifting. Figure that it might be worth keeping things aboveboard." His eyes flick to the door; not with any conscious worry, but in a reflex-deep gesture of caution that instantly has David standing up a little straighter. "Still," says Louie, "I still get plenty of jobs that require...discretion."
Smith holds up his hands. "Say no more, I would never ask you to betray a confidence."
"Well, I think you might actually be able to help me out," replies Louie, leaning forward. "And it's not really a secret at this point, anyway. See, I've got some goods that need to get to Tulsa proper. There's a risk of unwelcome notice, or so I'm told. I get paid when the Mayor takes delivery, but apparently, Mr. Jackson's been getting unhappy about the way certain things are being handled in Tulsa."
Smith sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, William," he grumbles. "Always causing problems. And what does this have to do with me and young David here?" he asks.
"You always have friends somewhere, Father," says Louie. "I know there's not a lot of folks in Tulsa who'd be eager to stand up to Mr. Jackson, but I figure you'd know at least a few strong young men who wouldn't mind earning a day's pay just walking alongside a truck." His eyes flick up to David. "I'd pay you as well, David," he says. "I don't know how Father found himself a bodyguard-"
"Traveling companion," says Smith, firmly but kindly.
Louie waves it off. "You look like you can handle yourself in a fight," he says.
David feels hairs prickling on the back of his neck. He doesn't like this situation, not at all. It feels like they're embroiling themselves in something perilous, something that shouldn't involve them at all. Slowly, he approaches the table, taking a seat next to Smith. "What sort of situation are we going into, here?" he asks.
"Mr. Jackson owns a lot of land in Tulsa, and a sizable herd of cattle that comes to the city for slaughter and passage downriver," says Louie. "Employs a good slice of the town, owns the homes of most of those left over. He has a hand in most of the businesses there. Lately the Mayor and he have been butting heads over who's really in charge. Mr. Jackson, he's not the kind to ask very nicely if he can pay some of his cowhands to get his opinions across more directly."
"So he's a gangster," says David.
"Racketeer," says Louie, shrugging. "You live in St. Louis, you get a higher standard for who counts as a gangster."
David sighs, leaning back. "I'm not eager to get caught in a shootout with a local magnate's goons," he says.
"I'm not asking you to," replies Louie. "Jackson knows he owns Tulsa, and that gives him a lot of power, but he also knows that there are bigger fish out there, and that I work for Mr. Dixon." He smiles. "He might send a couple of toughs to take my goods if I make it easy for him, but he won't pick a fight with me. Tulsa's a long way from St. Louis, but there's only so much disrespect Mr. Dixon can tolerate from some cowboy nobody in Oklahoma."
"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but Louie's not completely wrong," says Smith. "William is a brash man, and he stirs up trouble wherever he goes, but he something of a bully. He doesn't pick fights he isn't sure he can win."
David grumbles. "I'm one man with a rifle. Herdsmen are tough men. I don't know that a few boys off a construction yard are going to be enough backup to convince them to give us space."
"Trust me," says Father Smith.
"I do," says David. "I just-" He throws himself back in his chair, slapping his lap. "Why are we taking this risk? Look, y- Louie!" He points at their host. "What is this all about, anyway, huh? What's the cargo?"
Louie sits back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at the outburst. "...parts for the Keystone Dam," he says. "Mayor says it needs repairs. He's hired the help he needs to get it done from abroad. Now he just needs the machinery, which Mr. Dixon was able to source. But Jackson caught wind of it. City control of the dam is the one big thing he can't touch. But if he gets his hand on the parts, holds onto them, and waits for the city to run out of money to keep those engineers just sitting around..."
"...the Mayor has to sign whatever agreement William gives him," says Smith, pursing his lips.
David groans. "I- I don't...this is..." He sighs. He takes a moment, pinching at the bridge of his nose.
Then, he leans forward. "Fine. Do we have a map of this town? I need a map."
--------------------
-Tulsa, Oklahoma, United States-
-City of Tulsa-
-Friday, December 25, 2076, 15:27-
-Private First Class David Hartman, 5th, "Luke," Division, Victorian Army (MIA; DEFUNCT)-
David scowls as he squints into the afternoon sun, riding in the passenger seat of the pickup. "You ever think you were gonna die on a Christmas day?" he grouses.
"Cheer up, son," replies Smith from the driver's seat, still wearing the same smile as ever. "It's going to be a smooth ride. Just down the road until we hit Tulsa, then we hand off the parts to the City at the dam."
"Until a bunch of cowboys with guns come to steal the keys to the city's dam," grumbles David. "Why are we doing this again?"
Smith glances over, smirking. "Because it's the right thing to do."
David scoffs, and Smith chuckles.
A banging comes from the window looking onto the bed, and one of the young men in the back shouts, "Hey Father, Boss? Do you think we can pick this up a little? Only, my Mother wants me back at home at six-" The other boys in the bed of the pickup start jeering at him, and David sees him flushing red in the mirror. "Hey, shut up! I don't have any sisters, she needs help carrying the roast into Church!"
David and Smith trade glances, and then Smith calls, "Haste is the Devil's own hand, son! And patience is a virtue! We'll get you back in time. Just sit tight."
David shakes his head. "How old are you?"
"...eighteen?"
"You're a damn liar, Jack," says one of the other boys.
"Great," mutters David as their hired hands start squabbling. "Little kids, signing up to go fight men with guns."
"I'd have thought you'd be used to the idea," remarks Smith.
David glares at him. "I signed up at eighteen. What choices other men made are their own."
"Boys, I think you mean," says Smith, looking over at him with raised eyebrows.
"No," says David, for a moment remembering the thunder of guns at Leamington. "Men." Ahead, he sees a line of pickups parked across the road. "And there's that trouble you said we wouldn't have." He checks the rearview mirror to be sure the flatbed behind them is still following, and he waves three times out the window to signal trouble ahead. Then he pounds on the wall behind him. "All right! Eighteen or not, we've got trouble! Shut up and get ready!"
Smith slowly pulls to a halt, twenty yards short of the makeshift barricade. David opens the door, grabbing his rifle and making to get out.
Smith grabs his arm. "Be careful, son," he says. "Just keep a cool head. William's boys aren't soldiers. They aren't going to stand and fight like it's their homes on the line."
"Yeah, yeah, I know how to shoot," grumbles David, shaking off the hand and stepping out.
"I'm not warning you for your sake!" snaps Smith as the door closes.
David pauses at that for a moment before shaking it off. He glances at the local boys as they jump down out of the truck. "Still have the guns?" he asks, quickly checking his magazine out of habit.
A round of affirmatives ring out as the boys, suddenly nervous, show the mixture of handguns, shotguns, and hunting rifles they've brought.
David sighs, putting the magazine back in and chambering a round. "Right. Listen, the plan is not to start a firefight," he says, letting his rifle hang from its sling and pulling his service sidearm out to perform the same check. "Just stay behind me, look big, and act like you know how to use those guns. And keep your fucking fingers off the trigger unless you actually need to shoot something. I don't want to die because one of your fingers slipped." In a smooth set of motions, he slaps the magazine back into place and racks the slide before holstering the pistol. "Questions?"
"Are you a mercenary?" asks Jack.
David glares at him for several seconds before turning and walking towards the barricade, shouldering his rifle but keeping it pointed at the ground. "Afternoon, gentlemen!" he calls, feeling his heart starting to pound. "You're a bit in our way."
The cowboys all trade glances before one of them slowly steps forward. "You're holding onto our boss's property," he calls. "Mr. William Jackson? He owns this town. Easy mistake to make, I'm sure." He smiles, nerves visible in his expression.
And that...that breaks the spell for David. Not the fear. He'd charged Commonwealth machine guns with the rest of his unit. He'd seen the terror in those soldiers' eyes, and he'd seen his comrades die anyway. Terror didn't stop a bullet.
It's the taunting. The attempt at making levity a threat. The attempt at turning this situation into a cheesy Western, more than this fucking farce already is. It's that crystallized moment of realization where he thinks, You're doing just the same thing I am.
But the only thing this stupid fucker has backing it up is a bunch of bluster and the previously-unshaken certainty that nothing in this town can tell him no, now wavering under the cold light of day.
That's a harsh realization, reflects David.
The levity drops off his face. "No, you're making a mistake," he says. "This is Mr. Dixon's property, not Mr. Williams's. You know that name? Raymond Dixon, from St. Louis? This belongs to him. And if he wants it to drive up this road all the way to Tulsa, then that's exactly what it's going to do." He slowly shifts his feet into a firing stance, still keeping his rifle lowered. He feels more than hears his backup stiffening behind him as the cowboys tense. "I'm being paid to get this cargo where it's going. I'm not being paid to put up with you. Move."
The cowboy's eyes flicker. He swallows. Sweat beads on his forehead. He glances back at his backup and sees them wavering, too. Then, he visibly takes in his own position, right out in the middle of everything. He looks back to David and points at him. "Mr. Jackson...he's gonna hear about this," he says.
"Oh, I hope you give him a little song-and-dance routine," growls David, starting to stalk forward. "Now, get!" The cowboy's nerve breaks and he turns, scrambling back towards the trucks. David's momentum peters out as the toughs get back in their trucks and start driving off. As they zoom down a side street, he turns back and safes his rifle, shaking his head. He passes by the boys, all staring at him with their mouths open. "You missing something?" he asks, glowering at them. "Get back in the truck, c'mon!"
The boys all start scrambling, and he hauls himself back into the pickup.
Father Smith hauls himself up from where he was ducked down, sheltering behind the engine block, and gives him a placid smile.
"'Smooth ride,'" grumbles David. "'Just down the road until we hit Tulsa.'"
The smile drops off of Smith's face, and David snorts.
"That was brave of you, David," says Smith.
"Leamington would have shattered them like spun glass," replies David, checking over his rifle again.
A few moments later, they start driving again.
--------------------
David leans against the wall of the dam's power plant as men unload the dam machinery and Father Smith glad-hands with Louie and the Mayor. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette, one hand still clenched around his rifle. He ignores the slight tremors trying to overtake him.
As the last of the machinery gets shifted off the truck, Jack glances over and starts approaching. "Mr. Hartman?" he calls.
David cocks his head. "Yeah?"
Jack hesitates. "Are, uh...are you and Father Smith hungry? Only, the whole Church is having a Christmas dinner, and I know y'all are new in town..."
David stares at the boy for a moment. It's a nice gesture. Reminds him of home. Christmas dinners were a Church thing there, too.
He looks away, sighing and taking a drag on the cigarette. "Ask the Father," he says. "I don't know where we're going from here. Might be best not to stick around."
Jack looked down, visibly crestfallen. "Yeah, yeah that makes sense," he says. "...uh, sir?"
David laughs, choking on smoke. "I am not a sir," he says, shaking his head. "But go on, go on. What is it?"
"So these are parts for the dam?" he asks.
"So I'm told," replies David.
"And Mr. Jackson wanted them?"
"That's what you saw," confirms David. "Why?"
"Well, you just, I sort of figured, well, you..." Jack trailed off, swallowing. "Well, you kind of saved the whole town. Mr. Jackson already charges us more than we can afford for rent. I don't want to think about what he'd do if he owned the dam, too."
David stares at the boy for a moment. "...you think the government having it is better?" he asks, trying not to sound too skeptical.
"I mean, it's free that way," says Jack, shrugging.
David's brain hits a short-circuit. "What?" He stares, head tilted.
"It's free," repeats Jack, slowly, unsure why he's getting such a strong reaction. "The town sells electricity up and down the river, but nobody here has to pay for it. We get free power. And it's not like we do much with it other than run A/C and lights, so the Victorians don't even mind. Don't even threaten to blow up the dam when they come through."
David drops his gaze, fiddling with the cigarette. There are a lot of responses to that that came to mind. There are a lot of suicidal things he can say.
He doesn't.
"Good deal," he manages, taking a pull off the cigarette.
Jack stares at him, visibly confused. "...yeah," he replies. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. You're welcome to come to the dinner if you want."
"Don't worry about it," says David, waving it off. "And ask the Father, he knows where we're going next and when." He looks up at the dam, avoiding Jack's eyes.
"...right," says the boy, walking off.
David stays there for a moment, trying to process...all of that.
He's reached the point of opting to ignore it instead when the Father breaks off from his conversation and approaches him, waving a paper packet. "Have your pay, here!" he says, grinning.
"That's fantastic, Father," says David, pushing away from the wall. "So where are we heading next?"
"Well, I figure it might be wise for us to just move along and let tempers cool," says Smith. "Lovely as a dinner offer is, it might be better not to let our faces be attached to any locals. If I recall correctly, last ferry across the lake leaves in about fifteen minutes, and the launch is just up the hill, next to the dam." He adjusts his glasses. "We should probably...probably get going. I know a family in Cleveland that usually has a guest room they don't mind me using. We can rest there tonight." The two men started walking away.
"Hey!" called Louie from behind them. They turned, seeing him approaching swiftly. He clapped them both on the shoulders, grinning. David shifted away uncomfortably. Louie's smile got just a notch wider. "Leaving so soon, gentlemen?"
"Oh, yes, likely best to be off swiftly," says Smith, grinning. "I know a place we can stay in Cleveland."
"I can't convince you to stick around?" he asks. "I might have another job for you, you know."
"I'm not strictly looking for paying work, but thank you," replies Smith, laughing. "Nice as some incidental jobs are every now and then, and thank you again for that."
"How about work for a good cause?" asks Louie.
David groans quietly as the Father halts, turning with a more interested look on his face. "Well..." he says.
"Like what?" interjects David, stepping forward.
Louie glances over at him. "Well, there's been a lot of work coming down from Mr. Dixon lately that has a more...Chicagoan...tone to it. Boats are going all over the watershed, these days. Lots of work that takes an enterprising man far afield, on Mr. Dixon's oddly foreign dime. I could use a man with friends everywhere and a man who knows how to keep himself and his friends safe, while doing all that excited, far-ranging work."
David stares a moment, thunderstruck as he locks eyes with the Commonwealth spy. "You're not very good at keeping secrets, are you, Louie?" he asks.
"No, I'm very good at keeping them," he says. "Father Smith would sooner walk into the sea then betray a secret."
"It's true," replies Smith, chuckling. "That said, I'll actually have to turn you down, Louie."
David gestures at the priest. "Yep. That. Thank you, Father."
"Oh?" asks Louie.
"Colorado's really only the first step on our journey," says Smith. "We're actually heading clear out to Utah!"
David does a double take. "Ut-" He stifles himself, eye twitching.
Louie raises his eyebrows. "Utah? And I can't convince you to change your mind?"
Smith shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. The Lord beckons according to His will, and we must follow. But I look forward to catching you up again later. Perhaps I'll have some stories not told to me in confidence for you."
Louie shook his head. "You are a confusing man, Father."
"Part of my charm," says Smith, grinning as he shakes Louie's hand. "Farewell!"
Louie chuckles. "Bye now, gentlemen!"
They start walking away again. As they depart, David leans in. "Utah?"
"It's a beautiful country," says Smith, eyes twinkling. "They have lovely parks."
* * *
-Springfield Army Base, Illinois, United States of America-
-Commonwealth of Free Cities-
-Tuesday, August 25, 2076, 13:00-
-General Ronald Burns-
Military Training Reform
Needed: 21 16. Rolled: 84. 1 success.
General Burns stands to attention before his soldiers on a stage, themselves all at attention in parade formation before him. He takes in a deep breath, melancholy washing through him. He always knew that this day would likely some day come, if he achieved his goals. He had not always been confident that he would, but having achieved it, he has known that it was inevitable.
Still, having led these soldiers across the continent for decades, parting ways like this hurts.
"Devils!" he shouts. "We have fought across the Country together for-" He pauses, just a moment, breath catching. "-forty-three years," he says, his volume dropping.
Whatever he intended to follow that with, his momentum stops dead there. His gaze drifts off into the middle distance. He looks down at the dirt.
"Forty-three years," he mutters, his words still carrying thanks to the mic on his collar. He laughs quietly. "I had a speech ready," he says, looking up again. "But, y'know what? Right now I don't think I have much of one in me right now."
He steps forward, pointing around the gathered soldiers. "And I don't think you need it!" he says. "I've fought with you forty-three years. I know your quality, and you know mine. I'm not your President anymore, and I never will be! I'm just your General. So I'll talk to you as your General, and you as the hardest bastards on this continent!"
Shoulders stiffen across the brigade, and Burns continues. "You have fought for decades against the greatest power in the world! You are the finest soldiers I have ever seen!" He stops, taking a deep breath. "And today, I am asking you to undertake a challenge greater than any you have ever faced. Not a bombardment, not a machine gun nest, not a bayonet charge." He sighs. "Today, I'm here to ask you to disband."
There is a rippling of dismayed whispers across the formation. The troops knew that this was likely; there had been talk around the brigade for months about it.
But to hear it from Hellfire was another thing entirely.
"The brigade will go on, its ranks refilled with fresh recruits, but we will no longer be a part of it," he said. "The mastery of battle we have brought to it will fade away. And we will be dispersed, sent to train new recruits who will follow along in our footsteps. I know I'm asking a lot." His gaze panned across the gathered troops. "But I have asked you for a lot before, and just as I always have, I'm doing it for a damn good reason." He started to pace. "I'm asking you to train new soldiers because you are the only people on this continent who can produce the army capable of crushing Victoria. I've sent you into odds that most would call certain death many times to fight the Victorians. I'm sending you to face this challenge so that we can destroy them. I ask you to produce the soldiers and officers capable of bringing about that titanic task towards which we have struggled these forty-three years, before the enemy comes here to do it to us."
Silence falls, completely, the soldiers absorbing his words.
"I entrust this task to you because I know that no other force is capable of delivering the results I need," he says. "There are no soldiers anywhere in the world who can and will produce an army capable of destroying Victoria. New York could not provide that force. California would not provide that force. Russia would shoot that force." He pauses, pointing out at the crowd. "You are that force." He turns to face them fully. "There is no force in the world which has matched your achievements. I want you to create one that can do it again. Though we may disperse, I want you to ensure that this is not the end of our story, but the start. I want you to go forth and create for me an army of Devils -- and fill them with a terrible resolve."
As one, the Devils salute. Burns returns it, feeling his bones creak as he does. "Dismissed!"
--------------------
-Scott Air Force Base, Illinois, United States of America-
-Commonwealth of Free Cities-
-Monday, September 7, 2076, 07:16-
-Captain Wendy Harrelson-
Wendy Harrelson follows behind General Franks, glancing around as they approach one of the hangars, guards at the doors. "So what are we here for, General?" she asks, hands in her pockets as she follows her commander.
Beside her, Danny shifts his weight slightly, shrugging in that way he has of agreeing with her without having to actually speak to the General.
The General glanced over her shoulder at them. "This is why we've selected you all to be here," she says.
A murmur of excitement goes through the group of eight -- survivors from the air engagement over Lake Erie, all of them, although some weren't present for reasons she didn't pretend to understand.
Wendy frowns. It wasn't really an answer to her question.
Daria catches the expression and chuckles, and that gets Wendy's attention properly. The General hadn't had much laughter in her, since Detroit.
The General shakes her head. "Our illustrious new trainers have a surprise for us," she says.
Wendy scowls, the mood amongst the others spoiling as well. None of them liked the new guys. When word had gotten around that they were getting a group of old Air Force veterans training them how to fly, they'd practically had stars in their eyes. Hellfire and the Devils come again, this time to give the Commonwealth Air Force some of the Old Country magic.
Imagine their disappointment to instead receive a batch of the sourest, least disciplined assholes ever to walk the Earth. She and the other girls had swiftly learned not to be alone with any of their trainers. She'd nearly pulled a knife on one of them, once, when he wouldn't back off.
Captain Eric Vance -- one of the F-4 pilots from Leamington who scored kills in the engagement, an immigrant from the deep South -- scoffs at that. "What do they want?" he asks.
The General turns, fixing him with a stern glare. "I know the issues we're having. I'm working on it. They've got as much to learn about how we do things as we have to learn about flying. But I expect you to listen to me when I say there's something they have for us."
Vance averts his gaze, rubbing at the back of his head. "Sorry, ma'am," he muttered, wincing. "Just...nah, sorry."
Daria nods after a moment, coming to a halt in front of the hangar doors. "We've selected you all for this because, out of the all of you, I believe you are the best pilots we got back after Detroit. In the fighting there, and the actions over Buffalo later, you all distinguished yourselves in a way I don't think any others matched. So, you eight have been selected as the first candidates for a special training course." She pounds on the hangar doors; a moment later, they begin rattling open.
Wendy blinks as cool air rushes out. Air conditioning, she marvels. That's fancy.
Daria rolls her shoulders back, standing up straight. "You all are the best of our best. Of the pilots who remain of our air force, I trust you all the most to handle the hardest jobs this Air Force has to offer." She steps aside, gesturing within the hangar with that smile back on her face. "Have a look. It's not the same, your first time, not without seeing it yourself."
Wendy raises her eyebrow at her boss before looking at the others, shrugging, and leading the way, Danny walking with her. She squints as she enters the hangar, eyes adjusting to the dimmer light within. "Big place," she remarks, peering about the space. She homes in on a cluster of shapes at the far end of the hangar, coming into focus as her eyes grow used to the-
Her eyes widen. She slows to a dazed halt.
"God Almighty," breathes Danny as he caught sight of them.
Dead silence falls as the pilots lay eyes on a quartet of F-22 Raptors.
After a stunned moment, Wendy feels her feet carrying her forward, eyes fixed on the one nearest her. The others follow, spurred by her example.
She doesn't register the trip across; a seeming heartbeat later, she stands before the plane, staring up at it. She circles at it, gazing from every single angle.
"These are your jets," she hears Daria saying. "Assuming you pass your courses to the satisfaction of your trainers -- and I have every confidence that you will -- then you will be the Commonwealth's first F-22 pilots."
Wendy comes to a halt just where the fighter's cockpit ladder would rest, gazing up at the canopy. Danny steps up next to her.
"Did you ever imagine you'd have a chance like this?" she breathes.
Danny stays silent for a long, long moment.
Then, with a sudden, shake of his head as though shooing an irritating insect, he says, "No. Never."
The pilots spend an endless moment taking in their new planes. There'll be work for them tomorrow.
For now, the future exists in a timeless moment of wonder and anticipation.
The Devils have dispersed to their duty assignments, and the new training system is in place. New Commonwealth forces will deploy at quality 2/5; you expect your current forces to be fully up to this standard within a year, if you commit to no major force expansions within that time frame.
* * *
Expand the Department x2
Needed: 31. Rolled: 9, 90. 1 success.
Administrative growing pains are something you are well used to, in the business of governing. And it is very much administrative growing pains that bedevil you now. Secretary Harris has her new personnel, that part of things went without a hitch. Unfortunately, there's more work to be done in restructuring State such that it can properly make use of the new people. Efforts to date have had...you'll say mixed success, when you report to Congress.
While the expansion is done on paper, there's more work to be done, yet.
One out of two successes complete. New personnel are now available, but efforts to overhaul the Department's administrative structure mean that the effect has yet to be felt. More effort is required.
* * *
Source Foreign Arms x2
Needed: TBD. Rolled: 5, 1.
Okay, so in theory you are not facing down a complete disaster, here.
In practice, you can feel your options slipping away.
The international arms market is not favorable for destitute powers seeking to undergo crash militarization programs. There's a new Tsar, and he came to power screaming and raving about making Russia great again. The arms producers are being taken in hand by their home governments, and alliances are working to rationalize their own personal arms procurement in what promises to be an age of more direct peer power confrontation.
The upshot of this is, people are selling. They're just not selling anything you actually want.
You can procure some T-90s, somehow still running...allegedly. Chad is selling a single MiG-29 that it claims to still be in workable condition. Australia is offering some M1A1 Abrams they've had kicking around in reserve storage for longer than you care to contemplate. Lots of stuff like that. Ancient gear, stuff well past its prime even going into the Collapse and now solidly behind the times, and with questionable maintenance to boot.
...frankly, there's not that much of it. Enough to see you through a modest expansion to the armed forces in the short term, but not in the numbers you'd need, and you might as well whistle for continuing supplies of spare parts and ammunition. This is stuff being sold off to fund better gear for the sellers.
In terms of cohesive, large runs of materiel that you can use to build a good foundation on? There's nothing to be had. It's not like you're staring down the barrel of no foreign arms at all. Multiple sellers have told you that they're interested in doing business, but you need to wait while they sort things out. But defense procurement is a long-term game, and you were really hoping to have this sorted out at the start of things.
There were going to be some options you could pick between for various arms suppliers based on what your planners were hoping to achieve, but the rolls were so low that you have one option. You can accept scraping the barrel of the arms market for whatever dregs people are selling off to fund better equipment. You only rolled high enough to get one success in this, though.
Or, you can accept defeat and try again next year once arms suppliers have sorted out their shit. Vote below.
* * *
Refugee Management
Needed: 26. Rolled: 10. Failure.
Okay. Okay, you're...you're not really having a great few months.
The frustrating thing is that you saw this problem coming, you decided to act on it, Congress was fine with it, and you got the resources and the people all in order to enact a solution, and it just...didn't happen.
There's really nothing about this that made it fail other than the fact that, despite your successes, you are in command of a fundamentally very fragile and inexpert administration. You got everything in place. It was just fucked up. Now the Commonwealth will need to deal with the consequences.
Option fails. Civil strife continues to escalate, with the tool meant to help with settlement and social services for the refugee population not materializing.
* * *
State Integration Office
Needed: 21. Rolled: 79. Success.
Finally, a win.
More to the point, a win that's popular with Congress. Expansion of the Commonwealth is a crowd-pleaser there, being the crucial strategic necessity it is even if you discount the Revivalist fervor growing to become increasingly fashionable there.
The SIO mostly draws on legal experts who can serve as advisors to prospective states on what changes they need in order to be compatible with the Commonwealth's laws, and their attendant support staff. It is an office that takes a primarily supervisory role in things. Its crucial function is in formalizing the procedure for joining the Commonwealth and standardizing your approach.
It is not the most substantive thing, but it is a success.
The State Integration Office is established; from now on, you will not need to devote AP to integrating new member states unless something goes actively wrong.
* * *
Green Energy x2
Auto-pass, no roll. 2 successes.
Working with the Climate Action Foundation has been an eye-opening experience to you. It has opened your eyes to the fantastic resources available to truly modern societies. It has shown you the marvels of modern technology.
It has also shown you the incredible arrogance, condescension, and presumption of wealthy foreigners who come offering charity.
It was a cold moment of clarity when you realize that a good many people the Third World would have had this experience with American non-profits coming in to do their work. Colder still in the understanding that no matter how much they piss you off, you'll take their money anyway.
And you have to admit, there's a satisfaction in bilking somebody so convinced they're going to have to drag cooperation and basic competence out of you that they don't even notice you outright scamming them out of half again the budget actually needed for the work.
The Commonwealth has electricity. It now has more electricity than it has ever had, its power grid expanded and rationalized into a truly federal network, one the CAF -- for all their arrogance -- were more than competent in setting up for future expansion and development. And you'll need that, especially since infrastructural developments in the future will demand that the power grid adapts to changing demand. For the moment, though, you are well-supplied to meet your needs with some solid -- albeit not cutting-edge -- wind and solar plants of a Chinese design.
And, if the old, hydrocarbon-burning power plants have been shut down and not necessarily decommissioned, against the possibility of sabotage in or during the leadup to the next war...well.
What the CAF doesn't know won't hurt them.
You have scammed the Climate Action Foundation out of a great deal of money and construction assistance, employing a good many of your citizens in the process. More people in the CFC have access to power than ever before, more reliably than ever before. Any region can count on at least minimal levels of access to electricity. It is a massive win for you politically speaking, and it will enable a great deal of projects going forward that would not otherwise have been possible. Actions in the future will have greater scope, and infrastructural improvements like this will help your economy over time, yielding AP as or if things improve. The plants are Chinese in design, which will give you some incidental contacts there.
Also, you might not have been...entirely...honest with the CAF regarding how fit the old power plants are to resume operations, if need be...
Complete at three actions out of two required.
* * *
Infrastructural Projects x2
Auto-pass, no roll. 2 Successes.
The survey of your fledgling country's infrastructure is a monument to the Commonwealth's successes. The availability of Detroiter engineers makes the scale of the issue simpler. Your preparations for the Seven-Year-Plan ensure that resources are prepared and mobilized, knowing to expect a dedicated, multipartisan government effort over the next several years. And your establishment of the branch libraries has ensured that you have ready and local access to a great deal of accumulated knowledge useful in this sort of initiative. Decisions and triumphs in economics, diplomacy, politics, and the military all come together on this initiative.
And the end result is that the result was never in doubt. The actions you have taken to date have trivialized this project.
The general consensus, unsurprisingly, is that the day of the American car is not about to return. The Old Country proved that you can do primarily car infrastructure, but it was an ocean of money and resources making it happen, money and resources that you cannot match. You need more efficient forms of transportation.
And for you, that means boat and rail.
Being centered around the Great Lakes helps you here. All of your major economic centers are directly on the Lakes, and you connect via river transport to many other strategic locations. You have the opportunity -- and the need -- to focus on interior waterway shipping as one of your primary focuses. River transit is relatively limited in the need to maintain facilities; you get a lot for this sort of investment, and besides the waterway economy is something that you actually are still equipped to service. The trade along the waterways never truly went away, entirely because it's less investment to provide docks and facilities on them than it is to maintain overland infrastructure. You'll need to expand, but you're not starting from zero.
But in order to develop your territory beyond the waterways, and especially to meaningfully fight a land campaign in Ohio and Ontario, you need rail. Much of the work done is determining how to best run rail lines across your territory. Local networks within cities, servicing existing or planned industrial centers. Specific focus paid to linking the broader network up with the loading facilities at docks. A broader focus on a federal network offering transit between cities. The Commonwealth is going to see a heavier density of rail than the region has ever had, even in its heyday.
One of the biggest difficulties is going to be rolling stock. It's not actually that hard to build rail if you have the expertise, and on this one, you actually do. The locomotives, now, that will be harder. Detroit has some small facilities, but they'll need expanding, and you'll still need infrastructure in the meantime. You'll need to order foreign.
Of course, there is some room for automobile logistics in your future. America has too many roads that a bit of asphalt could make good again to pass that up, and they are good for flexibility, which is going to be crucial in compensating for failures in planning in the years to come. But the years of the car being the start and finish of American infrastructure are gone.
Still, all that's in the future. For now, you have a plan.
Survey is a success. Unsurprisingly, you're going to focusing on rail and waterway infrastructure, primarily due to the sheer bang-for-buck factor at play. Automobiles will serve a solidly secondary role. You now have plans in place, including challenges you'll need to overcome. An early, and urgent, priority is going to be sorting out short- and long-term supplies of rolling stock for locomotives, as well as an increase in your cargo ship production.
* * *
Industrial Assessments
Needed: 11. Rolled: 80. Success.
Collating findings collected incidentally during your various infrastructural initiatives this year, the Department of Development begins to look into the matter of your existing heavy industry to examine how your domestic production of military goods needs to change and grow. Primarily, the focus to date has been on where you need industries to be. Unsurprisingly, the sheer density of population in Chicago demands a lot of production centralized there and in the cities convenient to it. Detroit already has facilities for steelworking, but to be frank, it's going to be more useful to you for locomotive production, and you might instead consider investing in steelworking elsewhere. There are other locations in mind, but Chicago and Detroit are the obvious darlings: already some of your best developed locations, and their status as nexuses for refugee influxes makes them ideal in more ways than one as industries continually expand and grow.
Thoughts for later. Having identified where you're realistically going to need to centralize production, you've begun examining the existing state of things, and that...that's less positive. There are going to be some unhappy local producers due to miss out on subsidy money in the coming years.
There's still more work to be done, though.
You've identified some basic requirements for your heavy and military industry going forward. There's more work to be done here before you can say you have a solid plan in place, though. One out of two successes complete.
* * *
Long Tail
Needed: 31. Rolled: 14. Failure.
You're actually running up against genuine shortages in the number of qualified candidates available for this sort of demanding work. The number of highly-trained personnel available for government work -- especially those who can secure clearances for intelligence work -- is not actually that robust, these days. Between DoDev humming along and DoS's attempts at expansion, the good recruits are already getting sucked up elsewhere. So, you have new personnel...just not very good personnel.
You have new people to fill seats in the Department of Security's Bureau of Coordination, but they're frankly not the cream of the crop and will require extensive training on the job to really get up to snuff.
* * *
Down the Mighty Miss
Needed: 31. Rolled: 45. Success.
Your efforts on the Mississippi and its colossal drainage basin, on the other hand, are a walk in the park. Old Raymond Dixon doesn't make you work for this one; on the contrary, he assists you, proactively offering his help in giving your agents the introductions they need to make friends and cultivate contacts downriver. Dixon's been exceedingly friendly, since the Great Lakes Conference. Keith seems to have passed along the strong impression you made on him. The Dixons have turned their coat, by all indications, throwing in with you. They give you friends on merchant vessels plying every river that touches the Mighty Miss, and you make use of the opportunity.
So, easily enough, your agents cultivate the contacts and informants that give you eyes down the Mississippi River; down most of the Country's interior, for the Mighty Miss's reach is truly vast. Down, down past St. Louis. Shooting up the Missouri, to give you new eyes that go all the way to Montana. Down through all the ruined or tightly-held locks and passages that you must clear, to open the way to the Gulf of Mexico. Into the great Ohio, slipping eyes and ears along the southern flank of the territories you will surely fight through in the next war. Down past the city of Memphis, with its quiet, nervous people; with its disused, moldering docks, usually home to roving bands of Victorians on a bit of destructive shore leave; and with the charred, abandoned city blocks surrounding the bloodstained buildings of the National Civil Rights Museum, left undisturbed as a warning. Up the Arkansas, a bloody trail clear to Colorado, through lands so annihilated beyond any ability to sustain settled life that the locals have returned to a life on horseback. Down through the deathly silence and terrified courtesy of the depopulated Mississippi south of Memphis. Down to the chaotic scrum of Morgan City, the asthmatic boom town at the mouth of the surging Atchafalaya River. Down to the hollow towns living in the ruins of Baton Rouge and New Orleans, clinging to a much-reduced Mississippi for life and paying heed to any visitors with desperate courtesy.
Down the Mighty Miss, and to the Gulf, until Commonwealther boots touch the sea.
Rumor mills will now include more detailed information on the Mississippi Watershed. Intelligence network in the region is maturing. I might have unintentionally misrepresented the scope of this action; honestly just made a mistake with the description. There is not realistically a scenario where you're establishing eyes and ears all the way down the Mississippi and it's not worth your time to extend them up the connecting riverways. Potential contacts from all those places would be meeting up in the same locations anyway given how river nexuses work. If you have contacts down to St. Louis, it's sheer negligence not to be getting information from up the Missouri, and so on and so forth.
* * *
Victorian Intelligence
Needed: 31. Rolled: 95.
Compared to your cautious infiltration of the rail networks in Victoria, your work in Nova Scotia is simplicity in itself. The Crusaders know their weaknesses, and they attempt to substitute brutality for skill.
It doesn't work.
There's a thriving trade in human cargo in Nova Scotia. Not human trafficking -- nobody can really compete with Cape Cod, not with the risk of catching a bullet from a Crusader in the equation -- but in refugees. Desperate for foreign aid, the Crusaders have thrown open the ports, and the people of Nova Scotia have desperately taken any transport they can. For the unscrupulous, it's a business opportunity; bring goods in, ship people out, at very nice rates. For the more principled, it's a chance to do some good.
These traders make for excellent contacts, and the perfect ways to slip agents ashore to cultivate more. In particular, your agents do a lot of good work with one Dara Grimes, a quasi-folkloric people smuggler who's been slipping people out of Victoria since the Bloody '60s.
The results of this are manifold. First, you cultivate an embarrassment of contacts within Nova Scotia, more than you actually expected. Second, you actually get a fair few contacts heading to Europe, although they'll need a lot more work before they actually constitute any form of inroads with the expatriate communities. Finally, Grimes herself is enthusiastically happy about doing her work for you, accepting her handler aboard as a member of her crew. She's even made some promises about arranging introductions with her Resistance contacts within Victoria-
-later, of course, she says, as though she hadn't just dropped a bombshell the size of an aircraft carrier on your agent's head. There's work to be done. But the opportunity is still there.
Gain broad and deep penetration of surviving institutions and communities within Nova Scotia, although you are already preparing to batten down and brace once the Inquisitors regain control of the region. You will have opportunities to further cultivate contacts within the American Diaspora and even have a chance to get a favorable introduction with the Victorian Resistance, with future action investment.
* * *
Department of Education
Needed: 31. Rolled: 37, 67.
First Amendment of the Commonwealth of Free Cities Constitution:
There shall be a Department of Education, established under the President's authority per Article 16 of the Constitution. This Department shall have as its remit the establishment, maintenance, and provision of education to all residents of the Commonwealth up to the age of eighteen. This Department shall be funded from the federal government's budget, at the direction of Congress, with no less than 10% of the budget of the Commonwealth, to increase to 15% by the first day of the year 2096. Congress may, with a 60% majority, elect at that time to defer the increase in funding by five years. Should Congress so decide, the funding increase shall be applied at the end of that period...
Department of Education established. AP budget would be 2 at this turn's budget. Will at minimum always be 1, but will be tied to the above benchmarks for what slice of total AP it gets. Your increase in Congressional approval from the State Integration Office mostly went to this. The first Secretary of Education shall be Thelma Hartman, CPP.
Does the Commonwealth take the arms offers available to them right now?
[ ] Yes. Gain one success on Source Foreign Arms. Gain an amount of mismatched assortment of last-generation materiel of dubious maintenance records with no parts or ammunition support, as sellers can get them to you.
[ ] No. Cut your losses and wait for the real arms manufacturers to have their shit sorted out.
MANUAL MORATORIUM.
I might have gone...a little overboard with this one.
I do not care. Ten thousand words is a perfectly reasonable length for an update!
Does the Commonwealth take the arms offers available to them right now?
[ ] Yes. Gain one success on Source Foreign Arms. Gain an amount of mismatched assortment of last-generation materiel of dubious maintenance records with no parts or ammunition support, as sellers can get them to you.
[ ] No. Cut your losses and wait for the real arms manufacturers to have their shit sorted out.
Some of these rolls really fucking hurt but they're not critical so thank goodness for that at least. Still a kick to the shin when you see such low rolls. As for the foreign arms sale, might as well make the best of it and just purchase some of it to supplement our troops with considering we only have the 1st Division's equipment which cannot be everywhere nor is plentiful.
Some of these rolls really fucking hurt but they're not critical so thank goodness for that at least. Still a kick to the shin when you see such low rolls. As for the foreign arms sale, might as well make the best of it and just purchase some of it to supplement our troops with considering we only have the 1st Division's equipment which cannot be everywhere nor is plentiful.
Very much not worth it IMO. We would effectively get one additional AP for vastly inferior arms import now instead of better ones one year from now, locking in the terrible result. Trying again next turn is guaranteed to give us better stuff (94% chance for vastly better offers). Waiting half a year for reasonable quantities of modern arms is better for our long term military modernization, we aren't planning to wage war anytime soon. We also incur costs by taking in large numbers of mismatched and outdated equipment, the maintenance costs and training costs will considerably increase.
So in summary:
[] No. Cut your losses and wait for the real arms manufacturers to have their shit sorted out.
Very much not worth it IMO. We would effectively trade one AP for vastly inferior arms import now instead of one year from now, locking in the terrible result. Trying again one year is guaranteed to give us better stuff (94% chance for better better offers). Waiting one year for reasonable quantities of modern arms is better for our long term military modernization, we aren't planning to wage war within this year.
One minor note, turns are a quarter of a year, not a full year. Regardless, I'm leaning towards no myself, but either way I feel like we should put two AP towards it again next turn. If yes wins, then we'll want as many rolls as possible to make up for the lower quality of the first success. If no wins, then we'll still need to get weapons, but on a slightly bigger time crunch
One minor note, turns are a quarter of a year, not a full year. Regardless, I'm leaning towards no myself, but either way I feel like we should put two AP towards it again next turn. If yes wins, then we'll want as many rolls as possible to make up for the lower quality of the first success. If no wins, then we'll still need to get weapons, but on a slightly bigger time crunch
