milliways_bar | (no subject)

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ellen park

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Not everything the Brotherhood of Steel does in Philadelphia requires full power armor on a daily basis. It's practical for certain parts of the city, true, and Ellen finds it immensely comforting when she's having an especially agoraphobic day, but it's not like every situation calls for it.

Also it is really hard to get the smell of an ungodly number of chickens out of a suit of power armor.

Which is why she's wearing a suit of her old combat armor today, one that's got the Brotherhood of Steel emblem on the chest and something that resembles a flaming bottlecap painted on one shoulder; the Scribes aren't done with her good stuff yet. For now she'll be okay.

She heads up to the Bar and sets a copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide down. "Bar?" she says. "This is for Sahaal. I thought he could use a written briefing in general before anything else happens... if you could get that to him and give me some of that Sunset Sarsparilla stuff Corazon used to drink, I'd be very grateful."

The book vanishes. The soda appears.

"Thank you."

(OOC: Open for anyone interested.)

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The book appears on Sahaal's desk as he works on his armour. He's not quite sure when it appeared, only that when he turns around to clean cobalt paint off his hands, it's sitting there in all its glory. Slightly confused, he quickly scrubs his hands at the sink and picks up the slim paperback volume. The title, The Wasteland Survival Guide, is certainly indicative, as is the black-and-white skull on the front. He smiles. Someone has a sense of humour.

Most of the confusion bleeds away from him when he opens the book up. Given that one Ellen Park is named as 'Lead Author and Subject Matter Expert', it's rather obvious who sent it.

Sahaal grabs the book and heads up to the bar. Once he gets there, he orders a coffee and walks over to where Ellen's drinking her sarsaparilla.

"This must be the briefing, then? Thank you."

Ellen looks up with a smile. "It seemed like the easiest way to cover as much territory as possible," she says. "Metaphorically speaking, I mean. I'm currently geographically a good distance away from where that book was written. But a lot of the background material is still valid in Philly just the same as back in DC."

"I'm sure it'll be quite informative about your world, regardless of which part you currently fight in. Besides, it's my experience that nuclear warfare does not tend to leave much in the way of environmental variety."

Sahaal sits down, careful to not spill any of his drink.

"Mostly it seems to be variations in what species exist in a given area," Ellen says. "I met someone here who came from the western part of the continent, and there were areas that she'd been to that were far enough from the primary target zones that they had decent plant life and some animals I'd thought were extinct. There's some mutated animals in the Philly area that're pretty unique to the region, and some mobile plants on the other side of the river that I've never seen anywhere else."

Mobile plants? Right, that's a new one on him. But, radiation does have its strange, gene-twisting ways.

"What sort of mutated animals? Anything that can get through a set of power armour?"

What Sahaal really wants to ask is how much ordinance he should bring along to take out any threats he can't kill with his claws, but he has a feeling that's not the sort of thing you ask bluntly.

"They don't seem to have deathclaws in the area, but the hippos are pretty bad," Ellen says. "They're capable of doing damage to Brotherhood power armor if they come at you in a full charge. I don't know about yours. They've got insanely tough hide, but it's not like bone armor or anything. We usually use gatling lasers or explosives if they try to charge us. It takes too long to drop them, otherwise." She thinks for a moment. "Radscorpions can't punch through power armor directly, but we had one get its tail barb into the joints in one of my Knights' gear and almost make contact. They don't really have mirelurks in the Skookill*, so those aren't a problem."

*As if a postapocalyptic universe would particularly bother to keep spelling 'Schuylkill' properly.

Not to brag, but Sahaal can't help but think that his ceramite plates are superior to whatever alloy the Brotherhood armours themselves in. Still, they can be breached given enough force.

"My warplate can take the punishment, I'm sure. The joints could be more of a problem, however. Mine are comparatively lightly armoured, to allow for an increased range of movement. I've been hurt through them before, but at least they're a small target. As for dropping the local fauna, do you think that explosive gyrojet rounds would work?"

Sahaal knows what gatling mechanisms are, and the idea of a laser-firing version has him both intrigued and worried.

"Skookill." He rolls the word around his mouth, trying to get a feel for the pronunciation. "Your theatre of operations?"

Ellen thinks for a moment, then nods. "Almost certainly. If they're anything like some of the explosive rounds I've seen in use, they should do just fine."

"Right now my theatre of operations is the city of Philly and its environs. The Skookill is the city's river, separating it from what's currently believed to be uninhabited territory. The Blood Prince has his doubts but for the moment my people have mostly been concentrated on extracting information from General Atomics and from the ruins of the old Franklin Institute, or making contact with some of the local Vault dwellers, who may still have access to preserved, isolated tech."

"Good. That's helpful, I don't have any other ammunition. Or any other projectile weapons." Mostly because he really doesn't like them. There's no rivaling the purity of a blade, in his mind.

"You mentioned General Atomics last time, the robot manufacturers. And this Franklin Institute sounds like some sort of centre of learning or science. You're searching for archeotech, aren't you? Knowledge of the ancients, forgotten technology, things along those lines?"

"I'd offer you a loan, but honestly, I don't think anything we have would be of a size that you could use," Ellen admits. "Although if you have any interest in rocket-boosted bludgeoning weapons instead, we do have a few super sledges available at the moment. And I think we might have a ripper, although again, for you that's on the small side."

She nods, once. "Among other things," she says. "The Franklin Institute was named after a man who was a preeminent scientist about five hundred years ago, but Benjamin Franklin was also a great patron of music and literature, among other things. Any recordings we find, or any texts or visual works, are also important. The Order of the Quill is one of our orders of Scribes dedicated to the unearthing and recording of history and literature of the pre-war world, not just scientific and technological finds."

"No, thank you. Whilst the idea of smashing mutated beasts into pulp with a rocket-powered sledgehammer is very tempting, I should be fine with my wargear as it stands."

"Ah." Sahaal nods. Ben Franklin's memory didn't make it as far as the Age of Imperium, but then again, neither did most notable figures of human history. "A polymath. Of course. I'm not sure how much help I would be with finding knowledge, but I'm willing to try."

"Depending on how conditions stand with the Followers of the Apocalypse-"

Ellen pauses.

"Okay, I have to give this explanation to everyone who hears that name, because the Followers weren't present in the Capital Wasteland at the time that Moira and I wrote the Survival Guide. They don't mean 'followers' as in religious followers or political followers. They mean 'followers' in the way that a man with a shovel follows a Brahmin, because somebody's got to clean up what it leaves behind. The Followers of the Apocalypse are mostly teacher and doctor types, and they're more dedicated to rebuilding civilization at an everyday level than to tech reclamation or anything military. Completely different organization from the Brotherhood, but there were a few of them in Philly when we arrived. They use part of the Franklin Institute as their base. We're working with them to avoid duplication of effort."

"Oh, good. I thought you were talking about some sort of death cult there. They certainly sound reasonable to me."

He pauses.

"Is there some sort of catch? A hidden side to them?" Given where he grew up, Sahaal can be a little paranoid about motives sometimes. Mostly because he can't quite wrap his head around the idea of a group doing good works out of their desire to save humanity.

Cassian's drinking a caf when he hears Ellen mention Sahaal and tries to get a glimpse of what she's putting down, "Ellen, you know Sahaal?"

"Yes, we've met a couple of times," Ellen says. "He'd expressed an interest in visiting my world. Is he a friend of yours?"

"Yes, I've helped him work on a ship he has in the garage."

Ellen nods. "He said he wanted to see Earth," she says, "and maybe find out about some of the mess back home, although I think things are a lot worse in places he's been to. It won't be the first time I've brought people over, regardless."

"Your Earth is fairly different from the others though? Or is that why he wants to see it?"

"I think he'd be okay with almost any version of Earth," Ellen says, "but he does want to see something of why mine is different from the ones most people here come from. People don't really always grasp what happened to mine compared to theirs until they've seen it in person."

"Due to the level of destruction? Yes, I've seen some planets hit that way, you do need to see it,"

If you don't, its easier to pretend that it's not happening if its farther away.

"I hate to think of it getting that bad on more than one world," Ellen says, wincing. "I hope that kind of thing isn't as widespread where you come from."

"The Empire tends to use up worlds and then leave them behind so it happens but its hidden."

Ellen winces. "I'm sorry," she says. "It would be stupid of me to ask what was being done about it, so I'll just say that I hope things go well for the people trying to put that kind of thing right."

He slightly smiles with a nod, "We're finding their cracks. The Empire's big enough to have them."

"Oh, good," says Ellen. "I... would ask about that, but when it comes to a place like Milliways it's probably best to be careful just in case someone from the other side shows up and overhears somehow."

"I appreciate that though I've found many in Milliways are sympathetic so its slightly safer than at home,"

The caution is always present, that's just how he works.

Ellen nods. "I can understand that," she says. "I hope this place has been as helpful for you and your world as it's been for me and mine."

"How have you used it?"

He's been using the time here to heal and research and connecting with allies.

"I've brought people back to my world for exploratory missions, or the occasional battle, or particularly difficult missions like destroying an especially dangerous Vault full of mutants," Ellen says. "Some of them have come to help with reconstruction or medical initiatives, too."

"Have you had any problems with people on your side of the door when you've brought Milliways' people in?"

So far he's only dealt with Kay and those who knew him undercover.

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