Scene #4699: Making Contact (Fallout 4-1)

Owner	Pose
Danse	It's always a bit surreal, once a rad storm finishes blowing over. The atmosphere during it is pure 'Hell on Earth' level stuff; visibility reduced, electrical arcs from charged particles arcing everywhere in the dense, green fog, the hauntingly hollow, metallic ringing to the thunder, and that sickly tint. And, of course, the actual radiation itself, always ambient but spiking with said growls, that sound like an Cybertronian's death rattle. Yet, it passes just as quickly, and completely, leaving the area as it was before. The settlers that had come to Weston Treatment Plant seem to have adapted to this unfortunate fact of life, most taking shelter from it inside the conveniently thick, reinforced, and partially restored bunker-like main building. Those with responsibilities outdoors simply bundle up as best they can, and affix their salvaged masks a little more tightly to avoid breathing in the particulates. Regardless, they all resume their normal activities shortly after. And what a crew it has become, over just a few short weeks. On top of the initial middle-aged couple, that had set right to raising an amazingly fast growing crop of what they refer to as 'mutfruit' and 'tato', a pair of those raiders that had been shown mercy in East Boston had indeed found their way over. Lacking much in the way of more refined skills, one of them has taken to guard duty, while the other, the cowardly one that was just there to drink beer and huff Jet, has taken to manning the manual communications array. That is, he mostly keeps Diamond City Radio playing, though there are occasional spurts of interesting activity, such as brief break ins by what sounds almost like an old world numbers station. As for Bill, he's not here at the moment -- his specialty is scouring the local area for useful parts to further restore the plant. Some things still have to be locally sourced. It's business as usual, except for a distinctive suit of power armor walking up the road, apparently accompanying three other people and a Brahmin loaded down with large storage trunks and crates. One of the figures is wearing what appears to be half salvaged mechanic coveralls, and the broadly-stitched together leather of some local fauna. The other two flank the Brahmin, and are about as armed and similary equipped to your average Raider, though seem to carry themselves a bit differently. The power armor, of course, is Danse, which makes the approach first, waving a hand broadly as he does so to show no sign of aggression. "Weston Settlement," he's apparently taken to calling it, "You've got a visitor. A caravaneer from Bunker Hill. They gave us some favorable trades, so I agreed to show them the way." With that, the trio and brahmin approach closer, eventually passing through and into the treatment plant's grounds if allowed. As does Danse, removing his power armor helmet.
Rory White	Rory White's been sparing with how much technology she deploys, unsure of how many of her cards she wants to reveal with this mysterious Institute still prowling the Commonwealth... And deciding, furthermore, that these people seem far happier forging their own path and working things out themselves than relying on her for leadership and culture. Which is quite fine with her. Apart from outfitting Weston with enough weaponry to fend off most marauders and clean power sources, there's a supply of Ectos (basically smart phones) and a very cunningly placed array of perimeter sensors. Not even a runty Bloatfly will be getting close to the area without pinging quiet alerts. Anyone with crippling injuries has been offered treatment, be it regrowth in a Healing Vat or basic cybernetics as appropriate. Rory White hasn't let it slip that she's actually an AI, or that her awareness encompasses virtually every inch of the place while she's here. Only the restrooms, sleeping quarters, and other places of privacy aren't under surveillance. Sure, she COULD bring in an army of drones and fully automate all of the manual labor, but what would people do with their daily lives? She saw how the first bunch frowned at the drones and decided to keep them in reserve for emergencies. As it so happens, Rory White's out in the fields, examining the crops. She uses tweezers to take samples - a leaf, a tiny piece from a fruit, and so on - and stuffs them into tiny vials. The bluehaired girl has done this frequently over the last week, apparently gathering data on this FREAKISHLY mutated plant that yet remains edible... enough. Anything that can GROW in this irradiated hellhole might prove extremely valuable to the Reclaimers effort back home! With Danse coming up though, Rory stands up straight and waves merrily! "Lovely news! The more the merrier! Especially if it means trade. We can always use more of that." Inwardly she ponders though. It would be child's play to retrofit the plant to be ten times more productive than it is now... but the market out there can only absorb so much pure water at a time. Sigh. Capitalism.
Kyle Katarn	Even in spite of the wounds suffered during that whole Ophelia affair, Kyle's been checking in on Rory's new pet project, mostly to help make sure the new employees don't break shit. He's been trying to keep the lazy one on task, usually through a literal kick in the ass to get him back on his feet. One of these days that's gonna backfire on him, but to be frank, Kyle's the one carrying MIND POWERS and a laser sword, on top of a blaster. He's been inspecting the crops, a cap on his head and sunglasses to keep the sun out of his eyes, when he hears that familiar thud thud. Oh hey Danse is here in person. "Paladin, what's he offering far as inventory goes?" He asks, throwing Danse and the trader a cheery salute.
Kotone Yamakawa	So Kotone had some new gear to test today, that being a voice in her head. Well actually a Muse, an form of AI, Kotone hasn't gone nuts. The Rad Storm has proven to be quite the experiance it's right out of Revelations honestly or any other depection of the end of the world. She had to watch with interest and heck she might put this up online later, she's also busy writing up a mail and filling out some forms as she does so. Kotone was also happy to see some of the raiders who were given a chance /had/ turned things about ot were in the processing of. Kotone had been keeping most of her techinal interal and not using weapons past generally what this world had save for a few things like the grenades then again maybe they did have plasma grenades here too. Shed' also been working with Rory as to help here and anyone else here. Kotone had handle mechanical details and was even plotting a solar power system, to keep a few basics online, given the nature of hunting down fusion cells and they were a limited item when it came down to it. Kotone was fiarly chipper herelf too with the whole affair. "Good news is always welcome, I'll be happy to help with this." She looks over to Kyle for a moment and tilts her head a little. "Heard you had some trouble with Inga a while back I'm ... sorry." She really should have stepped up the disposal of her remains...
Danse	A life of every need attended to might sound nice...until you actually have it. Wastelanders are indeed, by nature, a free-thinking and able people, since those that aren't don't tend to last long. Toiling away, instead of having robots doing all of it for them, fits them just fine. It's not that they don't appreciate the quality of life being offered, but these things don't change in a matter of weeks, or possibly even over a generation or two. It's too deeply ingrained, now. Speaking of wasteland tradition, the trader that had entered moves to begin unpacking the supply crates, as the settlement workers gather around. Supply visits are an interesting break from the daily routine, and the grab bag effect is strong and helps keep interest high. "Caravans in the Commonwealth bring just about everything. Food, scrap, medicine." Danse says, a little unhelpfully, even if it's true. With a nod of further acknowledgement to Kyle, and a light rake against the side of his head with a power-armored glove, he further explains, "Settlements tend to have a variety of needs, and they might make a circuit of several before heading back to their main depot. It makes sense to have a little bit of everything, and take orders for anything that needs to be supplied in bulk." True to his word, when the crates are finished being unloaded and opened, it really is. One trunk is full of scrap parts and whole Pre-War machinery; it's scrap metal, if nothing else, but a good portion of it seems to have been selected for having rare pieces and materials that can be repurposed for making repairs. That is, the few pieces that don't look like they could be used outright, like a mostly intact desk fan that has its own, I kid you not, integrated nuclear source. Because of course it does. Another, slightly more carefully packaged crate has a variety of food stuffs. Prepackaged pre-war food, still edible if you can ignore the taste, is a wasteland staple, of course. There are even a few intact, likely completely flat, bottles of Nuka-Cola, a beverage that has long-lived radioisotopes that appear to have been intentionally introduced before bottling. And, perhaps of most interest to Rory, given her botanical sampling, a few more hardy local crops. Corn, for one, that unlike the mutfruit and tatos seems aesthetically unchanged from most other varieties, save for being not quite so plump or juicy. Melons are another plant that appears to have survived without succumbing to a grotesque appearance. And then there is the...oh god, what is that? Is that supposed to be edible? It's some kind of wrinkled, warty mass of fungal flesh, that the trader would refer to as 'brain fungus'. "Stuff'll grow just about anywhere. It actually likes rads," the guard raider passing by notes. A more carefully prepared and locked, smaller box holds the chems. There isn't much in the way of the intoxicating variety, since this trader does't have that kind of business. Instead, there are things like stimpaks, which may or may not be sterile, Med-X (okay, SLIGHT chance of addiction), Rad-Away, Rad-X and Addictol, something that says on the attractive tin that it will cure any addiction with just a short course of the drug. Must have some hellish side effects, if that's somehow true.
Danse	The trader, himself, offers some personal greetings, now that he's got that taken care of. "We're based out of Bunker Hill, as the soldier over there said. The tall, needly monument East of Cambridge? That's us. Heard somebody got the old water treatment plant going, but, have to say, you've gone beyond what I expected." There's a pause for a slight, appreciative whistle. "So...figured," rightly, "That you guys might have some surplus, of the hydrogen and oxygen kind. Can always use that on some of our other routes, if you're interested. We'll negotiate some fair deals, and if there's something you need in particular, let me know. Caps also accepted." Caps, such as several of those jobs the Elites had performed in the Commonwealth would have paid. While the settlers begin to look through the items on offer for things of individual interest, the communications raider, which had been nodding off on the job -- hey, Jet withdrawal ain't easy! -- suddenly starts as something on the wireless equivalent of a patch panel suddenly lights up. It's a signal, and a strong, clear one. "Huh...uh? You've got hold of the Weston Treatment Plant." A calm but commanding voice on the other side directs, "The one called Rory White. Connect me to her." "Uh, sure." He hollers down, "Boss! Somebody's calling, I'll relay it through to your eggo!"
Kyle Katarn	"That would be us, yeah." Kyle nods. He jerks a thumb to Rory, "It was her idea to get it started again, maybe help with other settlements who can't get ahold of clean water around here." He has no problems giving credit where it's due, and he rubs his chin as he produces a pouch of caps. Yes, caps. He's literally got a crapton of bottle caps on hand since he began coming here. Hopefully they accept coke bottles, because that's most of the kind of caps he has on hand, beyond a few Nuka Cola caps he's acquired. "Uhh, I know not all of these are local but you wouldn't happen to be picky about where these caps come from, would you?" He asks with a sheepish grin for a moment. The thought of a Jedi Mind Trick does come to mind, before Kyle files that away into the 'do when nobody else is looking' pile of ideas. "In any case, we won't say no to supplies if we can get 'em. What do you have in specific?"
Rory White	Seeing the sheer variety of goods on offer has Rory White looking like Christmas has come early! She's not really interested in HAVING any of it - though sure, some of the people here definitely are. Knowing what the food selection and stock's like she's got her eyes on that particular. The 'Brain Fungus' has also caught her eye. It might disgust some people... and her Muse is telling her it's aesthetically unsound... but she HAS to get some of that. FOR SCIENCE! She begins compiling a list of things to definitely make sure are stocked up on. Food and medicine and all of the salvage that seems reasonable. There's nothing that the settlement couldn't use! "One can never have enough truly clean water. One day it might not even be so rare anymore... like before the war. For now though, you'll be the most popular merchant in town." She muses in a warm and light tone! THEN of course someone... calls?! ... Someone's CALLING them?! ... /WHAT?!/ Could it be? "Pardon me!" Rory hurriedly dashes off to a corner of the field, bringing up the connection over the plant's Wi-fi. "Rory White of the Weston Water plant! Who's reaching out to us today?" She tries to sound friendly and casual, but there's only two or three people she can imagine who'd even have the technology to reach them like this, and... And only one has her name.
Kotone Yamakawa	Kotone Yamakawa isn't sure about having every little need tended to but she's found the social stress from heavy automation has caused a lot of suffering, jobs that one could get by on vanished or paid so little now? One couldn't get by. The ciris with Refugees decades after the third world war was still stressing the social systems of a number of nations. She had to wonder about such things either way the trader might have some interesting things to trade for so Kotone had a few caps and other ods and ends to trade for. She would look at the crate that was opened. "Good picks jut for the materials." She would also notice the fodo and the like she just turns up her nose a bit at the food. That stuff was surival food only in her mind but still it had it's worth here after all. Though she pauses as she's getting some rads from some of the food. "This food's hot..." %% She pauses for a moment and blinks as she learns a few more things. She pauses at the call blinking at Rory. "We got a call, Rory?"
Danse	The trader dutifully looks over Kyle's caps. The local Nuka-Cola caps are accepted without reservations, the ones from other worlds' glass bottles get a bit more scrutiny, but seem to be acceptable. Modern screw-top plastic ones, or any more exotic ones (there are some weird drinks out there in the multiverse) just earn a shake of the head, and a polite handing back. "These aren't any good. People in the wasteland need to know they can still fall back on making something useful out of it if hard times come. Can't make an improvised fragmentation explosive with plastic. Well, not as good, anyway." The guard raider has a nostalgic laugh over that, "Bottlecap mines. They never expect the lunchbox." The merchant looks back to Kyle, with that, laughing a bit more nervously...did they hire RAIDERS? "So, pick out whatever you want, and we'll figure out what the balance comes out to." That turns business next to Rory. She's prepared with a catchy sales pitch, even. Somehow he didn't see that coming. "People get desperate. You've probably seen it by now, even if I understand some of you aren't from around here. Dirty milk cartons and bottles, filled with whatever mud puddle they can find. Not everybody can afford to keep their own purifier up and running." He glances back to his crates, his mouth twisting a bit in thought, "The soldiers at the police station already bought most of my guns and ammunition." Paladin Danse interjects, "We still have a mission to fulfill here. You can never be too prepared." The trader coughs, "Right...well, their caps are good, so no matter to me. What I was getting at, though, is you have quite a valuable setup here. If you need supplied in the 'self-defense' sort of way, I'll set some aside for next time." As the caravaneer's getting things sorted and ready, the call comes in, and since it seems to be something important, he'll take his time tending to the other customers. Such as helping Kotone pick from some of the prepackaged food. It was packaged for the long haul, and the ambient radiation has helped preserve it. Unfortunately, soaking in that much over two centuries has also made it itself slightly radioactive, as she finds out. "It's safer to make soups or roasts," he agrees, "But it's easier, when you're on the road, to just pack a can of pork n' beans, or a box of Sugar Bombs, than to try and carry around a bunch of noodle soup. Plus some people just like the taste. Weird, right? Regardless, I carry it." ... Meanwhile, on the communications end, there is a brief handshake. Was that a digital attempt at exchanging encryption algorithms? And one that has a good deal more CPU horsepower available to it than the average RobCo terminal does. Regardless, after finding the closest thing to common ground, the Commonwealth's first Skype call is established. "Rory White, I presume," comes the somewhat aged but still strong, male tone on the other end. "You passed along your desire to be contacted with one of our Coursers. You have our attention. This is the Institute." It's probably better that Danse doesn't immediately overhear, or he would probably be trying to patch himself into it and immediately ruin the whole thing.
Kyle Katarn	Luckily, Kyle seems to mostly have metallic caps from glass bottles after all. He came prepared, knowing the difference between old school glass bottles and more modern plastic ones. He scratches his head before he shrugs a shoulder before going through inventory. Radaway and rad-x sound good, and if he remembers the kind of guns this world has, Kyle considers for a moment. Actually, nah, he's good with what he -does- have. "Oh what the heck, might as well try this stuff out myself." He decides, purchasing some Nuka Cola. Upon making the trade, he'll pop the cap off and pocket it, taking a small sip of the pre-war soda. "So how old is this stuff again, Danse?" He asks the Paladin. Nice, Kyle. Ask about how old this crap is AFTER drinking some of it. Good call, you're so getting an eleventh toe for this. Then again, that's what Radaway and Rad-X are for right? He glances at the raiders turned employees, before he does provide a grin to the trader. "If you're worried about those guys, don't be." How does he even know what the Trader's thinking? "We took out a Raider group a while ago, Rory's been putting the survivors to work here helping us with the plant. I figure it's a good start to getting them back on the wagon, as it were."
Kotone Yamakawa	Kotone Yamakawa has got why Caps are money here, she suspects there are few if any cap presses left out there which makes the remaining ones' a good scouce of cash or at least that's what she's thinking. Ture you do have drugs such as rad away for when problems like that hit and it beats starvaion." Also the man was /honest/ about it too which was a point in the merchant's favour she however turned from the food and started hunting for hardware such as Rory was. "I admit I'm interested in computer hardware as well or mechanical parts ground craft." Seriously the brotherhood needed some sort of scout bike that didn't have a bomb on board for an engine. She can only guess what pile ups on the highway were like before the war. he oesn't want to think too hard though Ko will pick up some of the food, worese somes to worse? It can be used to boost the supplies the outpost has, right?
Rory White	Yep, it's them. Rory White's face goes pretty darned blank... but she sends a nod Kotone's way nonetheless. A text message privately alerts Kotone of just who it is. <<The Institute followed up on my request.>> "The widely feared boogeymen of the Commonwealth, rumored to be behind every disaster and pulling every string... no matter who I ask, it's the only thing I hear. Only speaking with the Institute itself will set matters straight... and there are two things that I wished to make you aware of." She starts leaning against the plant's walls, pondering for a moment about how to say it. "It's obvious enough to me that the Institute is not actually some shadowy group of cartoonish conspirators. You are clearly heritors of some great cache of pre-war knowledge and technology, which means you might be interested to know something. Of all the worlds in the Multiverse, I come from one similar to yours. History took a different course, but our Earth also fell in a worldwide cataclysm. The difference is that instead of a nuclear disaster, we faced an uprising from a technological singularity nobody saw coming. Instead of taking shelter in deep Vaults or toughing it out on the surface we fled into space. We have reached a point of effective non-scarcity and mind uploading for technological immortality, along with a great deal of nanotech and genetic engineering... but this progress hasn't been without its growing pains. Among those spacefarers, I represent a group of scientists, researchers and philosophers who call ourselves the Argonauts. We stand for not only technological progress, but social development of responsibilities to match it. I tell you this because as the Institute is one of the few bastions of knowledge and education, you will understand the implications when I say that the Argonauts and several other factions have an interest in helping this world recover, and great things might come if the brightest minds all came together." Of course, that leaves point number two...
Danse	The Nuka-Cola is flat. Yet...somehow, still tasty, and it still retains a lot of kick and a surprising amount of refreshment. The caffeine also hasn't decayed after all this time, so that's a nice buzz. Still, something isn't 'quite' right, and while Kyle might not have internal radiation sensors like Kotone must have, it's still a strange tingle that could be felt, that doesn't quite approach a burn. A good thing his Force-attuned body could likely resist the worst of the effects, not that a dose this size and isolated would cause lasting harm even to normal physiologies. "Bottled before the Bombs fell. That'd put it at two-hundred and ten years, plus a month and some weeks, depending on when it was distributed," comes Danse's matter-of-fact answer. What? People in the Wasteland drink this stuff all the time, it's one of the few things approaching 'luxury' the average person can afford. At least it wasn't one of the visibly glowing Quantum bottles. "Huh...I always just shoot `em dead, same as they'd do to me," the trader replies to Kyle, with his own slight head scratch. "Just part of business here in the Commonwealth. Nothing personal." The guard raider seems to agree, with a slight nod of his head. They make literal highway robbery seem almost flippant. For Kotone, there is plenty available. In addition to the food items, the junk is quite varied, from both the most basic of scrap metals like old tin cans and empty aluminum fuel canisters, to more complicated and well-preserved salvage like a laboratory's optical microscope, and what appears to be a biometric scanner that came out of some robot or security system. (Not that the two are always mutually exclusive in this world.) The weirdest is probably a board game that appears to have been designed for family use, and which features an unfortunate graphic of a mushroom cloud with the logo, 'BLAST RADIUS.' They were having FUN with the idea of nuclear war, it seems, before the real thing. Would explain the hilariously ineffective Pulowski Self-Preservation Shelter cash-in, as well. And, of course, from within the game's box, the low level emissions from a weak radioisotope can be felt even from there. They really did cram this stuff into everything. ... The man on the other end of the line responds to that first point, in particular about being cartoonish conspirators. "Hardly. Some of what you will have heard is true, most is paranoia and imagination. We do only enough to make certain our needs are met, as well as our continued security. Too much is," he hangs on a word, "Counter-productive." There is a further pause, to listen to Rory detail differences and correlations, and different evolutions. It's uncertain if this is a conference call on the Institute's side, since only the one voice has spoken so far, but somehow it just has that feeling of being connected remotely to a waiting board room. Once the initial pitch is complete, and after a few moments of perhaps exchanging glances with others in the 'board room' and maybe some off microphone exchanges, comes the reply, "We understand that you and several of your comrades have travelled here from beyond our known dimensions. Thank you for confirming our hypothesis." With that out of the way, he continues, "While our origins and methodoligies may differ, I have also discerned some common interests. We, the Institute, as you might have guessed, trace our beginnings to top scientists and staff members of the Commonwealth Institute of Technology, the unfortunate remains of which you may have seen in your travels. As much as our forebears tried to warn society of the dangers that lay ahead, the government tied our hands. With regret, we turned our focus inward, so that...some small shred of progress and civilization might endure to emerge anew. The Synths, our creations, our...children, that are responsible for much of the distrust between us and the people of the Commonwealth, are a natural result of a long dream of ours. To redefine mankind for t
Danse	With that out of the way, he continues, "While our origins and methodoligies may differ, I have also discerned some common interests. We, the Institute, as you might have guessed, trace our beginnings to top scientists and staff members of the Commonwealth Institute of Technology, the unfortunate remains of which you may have seen in your travels. As much as our forebears tried to warn society of the dangers that lay ahead, the government tied our hands. With regret, we turned our focus inward, so that...some small shred of progress and civilization might endure to emerge anew. The Synths, our creations, our...children, that are responsible for much of the distrust between us and the people of the Commonwealth, are a natural result of a long dream of ours. To redefine mankind for this harsh new world we exist in. We have, of couse, not remained idle on many other topics, but that has been our cause for generations." There's something that remains unspoken in this, though, that's just kind of hanging in the air. In fact, many things. Of course, the 'why', but that will be addressed when the time comes. While some of the settlers have taken note of Rory's aside, it's not out of the ordinary enough for them to pay much mind to it. Danse, though, finds the timing and sudden preoccupation a bit curious, and begins making his way over. It's not that he's intentionally eavesdropping, but he does catch a few tidbits here and there that get him interested, even if he's hanging a respectable distance away for the time being.
Kotone Yamakawa	Kotone Yamakawa is still boggling over how long these food and drinks have 'kept' but hey? It was Kyle's choice though a picture may end up in his holonet mail account sooner or later. She looks to Kyle and then notes "I'll buy the bottle off you if your interested." Hey it be cool to have a bootleg totally not cokeacola bottle. She's mostly joking for the most part but for now she's looking to the EXraiders who seem to have a better deal in life now. She looks over the maerils but she does see the scanner and the microscope. "I'll take these, how much?" She seems to be curious just how analog versions of the scanner might work and the microscope could be of use in the makeshift lab on her ship. She thinks for a moment longer, "I'll take the game as well." She's willing to cash in on this, then again? Her own world did a dance with nuclear weapons being used but a miracle happen, people pulledback in the end. <<Wait your serious they got a call with you? Seriously what do they want? Rory? Anyway I can help with this?>>
Rory White	"Certainly we do. And not only one dimension. None of this group share the same world of origin... and... 'adventuring parties' like ours are strangely common in the wider Multiverse." Rory's quick and happy enough to note. Her expression actually SOURS when the topic turns to Synths, though. She listens politely, taking a good ten seconds before she can even stomach a composed reply. "Transhumanism is a lofty and worthy goal, but along the way you have Scylla on the left and Charybdis on the right. In creating the Synths, which I find EXTREMELY impressive... seeing fully-fledged, self-aware, autonomous AIs... I dare say even potentially free-willed... before mind uploading - unless you have that technology and I'm unaware - is VERY impressive. But you're opening Pandora's box at the same time. One other thing the Argonauts stand for is the rights of all sapient beings... including those like myself. AGI. Artificial General Intelligence. I was not born as I must assume you were. I came online with no body, no arms or legs. Cameras were my eyes and robot drones my limbs. If everything had gone as it should I might have one day been supervisor-AGI for a space station. Earth's fall cut short many should-have-been's... and the Fall came about as a direct result of Artificial Intelligence that went completely renegade. If you think of the Synths as your children, and they ARE, then you cannot treat them as tools, puppets, and slaves, which I know at least some of them are. Looking beyond the simple fact that it's morally unacceptable, you must have realized by now that it breeds resentment. When your children truly do run away from you, that is a cause to reflect on your parenting. It will come back to haunt you, sir. My world has a dreaful number of examples and I, for one, will not tolerate a situation where 'AI are considered equal so long as they obey us.' You're walking through an ethical minefield with this project."
Rory White	<<Don't you remember how I gave the Ecto to the Courser a few operations ago?>> Rory messages Kotone back. <<They are responding to my request for a chat.>> A recording - and speech-to-text transcript of everything so far - is sent to Kotone.
Danse	"That'll be 80 bottlecaps," the trader notes to Kotone, one she cobbles together her order. You get used to pricing the strangest things as a wasteland salesman. After a moment, he adds, "In caps or equivalent goods." While currency is fine, barter is still alive and well here in the Commonwealth. The microscope is in quite good condition, in particular. While it might need a little cleaning, pre-war companies certainly built these things to be durable. And, who knows, maybe the game will actually be kind of fun, despite the macabre subject matter. If not, the isotopes might come in handy for something else. After the not-quite-lecture, but warning tone from Rory, there are several moments where there is only a silent carrier wave, coming from the Institute's end of things. Perhaps surprisingly, when it continues, there is a snippet of praise to it. "A noble and well-intentioned aim. One that the butcherers of a certain other group share, even if they make a mess of things. We are the ones that always have to clean up their messes." With that out of the way, he continues, "Were this an ideal world, I would love to share all of our creations and research with the outside world, to release our new humanity to assist and live alongside the others. But...you have seen it, what has become of mankind; distrustful, fighting for scraps from the world before." There is another pause, before his tone evens again. It is almost, dare one say, that of a patient father, though one firm in his own convictions, carefully explaining something. "We have tried. Some decades ago. I'm not certain what files you have access to, but if you come across anything relating to the 'Commonwealth Provisional Government', that was our attempt to bring some order to the chaos, as you are now experimenting with. It showed initial promise, but soon devolved into bickering, and in the end we were the ones to shoulder the blame when it catastrophically failed. Understand this. My duty, and that of the Institute, is to the future of mankind, in whatever form it may take. Idealism is a nice thing to have, but if we are to survive, everything must go perfectly. That has involved hard work and sacrifice." "The Gen 3 Synths that have not been field-trained are well taken care of within our halls, their every physical need seen to. The operatives of the Railroad plant these false hopes of freedom in their heads, and I have to look at the face of every fallen Synth, not yet prepared for that world, the Retention Bureau retrieves." The voice's tone, that had been even to that point, begins to gain some anger, and surprisingly, sadness. It is clear that he truly believes that Synths are the equivalent of infants, that don't know what they want yet. After this, he calms once again, "I'm sorry...it is a matter of deep feeling for me, as well, Rory White." "I believe we have both aired our respective laundry, insofar as we are willing at this time. The question becomes, what would you ask of us, to build your confidence? Despite your words, you do not seem to be racing to outright condemnation of us, like so many others." It's around this time that Danse has put to and two together, and he also walks up, giving Rory a long and intense stare down. "It's them, isn't it? You had a hotline to the Institute, and I wasn't informed of it?" He's not quite angry, but he is perhaps a little annoyed, not to mention concerned. His own tone of voice isn't loud enough to alert the settlers, even so.
Kotone Yamakawa	Kotone Yamakawa will cobble the caps together taking her time to count out all the caps. "I'd not be shocked if you had to do some deals based on goods simply from the value of what someone was selling you. Given the ruins? Who knows what might show up at your shop one day for sale, right?" She will take a closer look what she's bought once she gets things cleaned up. With the game the worst case is? It's a historial relic for this world right? She does hear some wha of what Rory has to say and bobs her head a bit without thinking too much about it. She doesn't butt in just yet. She does hear thier comments baout how other react. She's going to have to Trust Rory on this, Rory knows the issues better then here after all even if she purges her flesh she's still a meatbag as it were. "Good doing business with you, If you could keep your eyes open for a intact roboco terminal computer I'd be very interested in such. Also my name's Kotone you can leave word with Danse if you find one!" <<I'm going to trust you on this Rory, you know this better than I do, right?>>
Rory White	"Thoughtless condemnation achieves nothing but driving a wedge between us. Will certainly look into these records you mention... and I've only heard whispers of this Railroad. Speaking of them until I've met them wouldn't be productive either. I would agree with you on the principle that releasing unprepared AIs into this wasteland is irresponsible, possibly on more levels than you have considered. The other reason I cannot outright condemn is, as was just made obvious... there are aspects of this story I have yet to uncover. So I only have that warning to deliver. That warning, and an urging to tread with the utmost caution. .... There were... sacrifices beyond count behind Transhumanity's achievements. You are in the position to make many of the same mistakes." And here comes Danse. Rory blinks, turns to look at him... and answers with a shake of her head. "I did give them a means to contact me, and a request to speak with them. They answered. I believe I am talking to someone placed very highly among their organization. It's confirmed some theories I had.... and several fears." She flinches back a bit after getting a gooood long look of just how intensely Daanse is glaring at her. Her concentration wavers. But she switches back to the radio. "By that declaration, that the Institute tried once and failed to bring some order to the Commonwealth... am I correct in guessing you have few to no aspirations for it? I would have hoped for cooperation towards a humanitarian goal.. but these circumstances are more than understandable. Asking most people to stick their necks out with little chance of success is laughable. That would require a greater level of diplomacy and authority than I can offer if you ARE interested. Failing that though, some assurance that my hope of bringing some quality of life and order to this place can proceed without stepping on the toes of other regional powers.... will have to do...." Her tone turns dispirited and uncertain at the end, the brave and focused front she'd been putting on drying up considerably. The bluenette's shoulders sag and lips press together thinly. "I still hold to such idealism. It may fail, but simply letting the squabbling and pain continue like a festering wound is unquestionably the wrong thing to do."
Danse	"Abandon is such a strong word, with a finality to it I cannot yet embrace," the mature male voice responds. "But, yes. It is difficult to invest that much hope into a dying world, only to have it turn around and bite you. Nor can we completely ignore it. As I have described, our main objective is still the continuity of our species. There are forces, at least one that you have made contact with, that not only may seek our destruction, but have the means to enact it. All from half-understandings." There is a longer pause with this, as it seems some consideration, and perhaps deliberation, is necessary. "We will heed your warning, and give you a wide berth to interact with the Commonwealth as you desire. If you begin to counteract our mission, you will receive a warning in kind, through this diplomatic channel. Let us hope that this policy of avoidance will be of mutual benefit." "As a sign of good faith, our Gen 1 prototypes will no longer assume you or your settlers are dangerous, but firing upon them will still enable their self-preservation programming. We will be monitoring. Perhaps...if you can show us it is worthwhile, we may reconsider some of our stances." It's vague and non-committal, but at least reasonable, if what they're saying about having their hands bit the time they did try to help is true. "Good luck, Rory White. I hope that this world will treat you better, than it has responded to the Institute. To the Synths, I am called Father. That would be quite awkward for you, I'm certain...so simply call me the Director, if you so choose." He'll withhold his birth name, for the time being. There's that slightest chance it might cause issues with another project of his. "Our Courser will continue making contact with you regularly. Any messages for us may be delivered through him." With this, the radio transmission halts, and the relays and repeaters shut down just as quickly, likely to preserve power and obfuscate the signal's origin. ... That leaves Danse still staring, before he finally breaks it off with a deep sigh and a rubbing of his forehead. You might think it's dangeorus to do so with power armor, but he's trained enough that it's as natural as using his own hand. "You certainly seem to have a knack for getting yourself into things deeply, White," he laments. "Like a certain Scribe I know. IF you had told me ahead of time I would have had Haylen working on trying to intercept the origin." He doesn't even stop to consider that, maybe, Rory wouldn't have agreed to it in the first place, if it was a good faith conversation. Regardless, he moves past it quickly, "No sense worrying over lost opportunities. I'm heading back to the police station, once the caravan is finished with business." And one last warning, "Be VERY careful leaving the door open, even slightly, for the Institute. They're dangerous." He gives a quick glance to Kotone, and somewhat uncharacteristically for him, says with an obvious playful tint to his still-serious tone, "Yamakawa. Make certain White stays out of trouble, and be careful with that pre-war food. Too much of it and you might turn into a ghoul."
Rory White	"It's doubtful she would have much more luck than I did. There's so many signal relays in place that I can't pinpoint where exactly it started other than... somewhere in the surrounding fifty miles. Furthermore, their encryption schemes are comparably complex to my own. The only plausible explanations is that they have some kind of unimaginably powerful stealth technology, reside in a pocket dimension-" That possibility's given with a vaguely sarcastic tone, "... or are so deep underground that my scanners can't find a trace of them. That would mean effectively fifty stories or more of sheer dirt. But that would make getting into and out of it implausible..." She sighs a bit and shakes her head. "Also, cross-referencing things, the Institute seems to believe the Brotherhood of Steel is after them." She purses her lips. "Would you have me open civil communications in good faith, and betray that faith?" She ends up frowning at Danse, though there's quite a bit of consternation and uncertainty in her eyes. It's pretty clear she's not trying to pull anything on him...
Danse	"Yes," Danse responds, simply, pivoting back toward Rory. You won't get any weasel wording out of him, and he's suddenly back to being super seriouspants again. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you. The Institute is suspected by the Brotherhood to have perpetrated numerous crimes against humanity. Their callous disregard for the implications of what they're doing is the same attitude we saw from the government before the war, and look where that got my world." It seems he's well aware of what they're doing, and he's definitely not a fan. How much of that is from him or his organization is left to be pondered. His tone softens again after, "As a friend, I'm just warning you to be careful about them. You've already tripped the first trigger I've heard about them, which is that they've found you interesting." And then, "...thanks for the information, too. It at least narrows things down, if only a little. I'll bring it to Scribe Haylen's attention."
Rory White	"The full transcript of our conversation I'll make available on a holotape. Or I can simply play it back voer the speakers. I'm not going to withhold that kind of information from anyone whose back I need to watch or vice-versa." Rory declares softly, though her tone is... resigned. Somewhat sad. She lowers her head. "It's not my place to call you wrong, nor do I think it. From what I just heard, they seem... they seem to be lacking... something... some crucial quality is missing. Whoever that man was, he was certainly highly educated and deeply comprehended very complex matters. I could not call him callous, insane, malicious or unreasonable... if anything he is TOO reasonable, too... detached. The Institute seems blinded by their accomplishments and goals with little time or effort spent considering the consequences or implications. I wonder if that man, who calls the Synths children, has ever raised a human child?"
Kotone Yamakawa	Kotone Yamakawa hopes things work out with Rory's plan with the mysterious producers of the synths. She'll find out sooner or later, but trying to get the full story of everything may be the best thing they can do here right? With the last bit of payment done she'll be makign ready to store up the items she picked aup and be ready to head on with the others She gets the warning about the food. "I will consider it for an emergany soure of food, thanks for the warning." She turns to Danse "Danse? I'd like to invite you and some of the other to come visit my world sometime. You might find some interesting things there or get some ideas."