Chapter 85: Chapter 81

“Welcome to the Nexus Central Media Radio. It is noon in the Commonwealth, and here is the latest news…”

The establishment of the NCMR was a long time coming, something I had put off due to its inherently low priority to my eyes. With lots of land and people on the surface, the station now had its uses and the Nexus now had an official radio channel. Other than providing news and updates, it would also serve as a voice to the outside world who could hear us.

Nothing overly sensitive was broadcast, of course. Though it did serve as a platform for Caladan’s budding artists to show off new music that proved to be a much better change from the usual ‘old timey’ songs I’ve long ago got tired of. The new music also proved popular with most people within the Nexus, as I often saw the singers doing live performances in the parks of Caladan to significant audiences.

Due to logistical and security concerns, the radio station was built on the surface, in a new extension of Station 81. That way, new talent from all over could enter the station without having to be exposed to the stuff hidden within Caladan. I’ve been told by Gwen and the others that it’s good to maintain a sense of mystique and luxury for my underwater arcology, so we’d be keeping restrictions on entering.

Of course, it’s not just radio that I was investing in. Since we had the power, tech and a high enough living standard, the NCB station also started broadcasting television shows, to which we’ve already provided the sets for viewing to the farmsteads in our lands. It was mostly amateur theater full of reenacting pre-war shows or comics scavenged from the wasteland, but already there was talk of a few daring original shows in the works.

I stamped down on productions that wanted to portray me and my girls, since I didn’t like the idea of hearing other people’s take on me put on the silver screen or radio. Though I wasn’t going to stop the Wright sisters if they wanted to give showbiz a try. Apparently their name carried significant weight to the shows they were attached to. Piper, to little surprise when I thought about it a little, was a more than decent screenwriter, while Nat was always acting in the shows her sister helped write and was quickly becoming the Nexus’ first big celebrity.

It didn’t worry me too much since Nat didn’t wander much out of Caladan, and was always geared up and with other equally lethal people when she did so. Though it’d be interesting to see how fandom worked in the post-apocalypse…

The new media empire cemented its influence quickly and became a staple consumption for our public, especially thanks to the security that allowed everyone to relax and unwind without fear of raiders or super mutants, and the lack of signal interference from radstorms to screw up transmissions.

No more than three months after the conquest of the Glowing Sea, we’ve already noticed that radstorms had died down to near-zero occurrences. The times where they did hit, the rads dumped on the land were far less damaging to the crops and people, enough so that the rad-resistant crops by Dr Penske didn’t need any treatment after each radstorm.

While we did automate most of our production, farmland and some less dangerous processing jobs were opened up to full and probationary citizens to work in. The Nexus credits they earned mostly went straight back into the system, as our artisanal goods, both luxury and otherwise, were being bought up as if they were a twitch streamer’s bathwater. The standard pre-war furniture were tossed out in favor of hand-crafted couches and tables and chairs from Caladan, and new, chaotically vibrant clothes were seen worn more and more.

At this rate, pretty soon my progress towards cultural victory would catch up with the scientific one.

Speaking of cultural victories, while our borders remained as they were, several outlying settlements had sent their delegations applying for vassalage. Gwen and the girls did most of the work for that, as I was busying myself with the Enclave problem.

Turns out, there were more than a few dishonest people from the Enclave. Shock and horror, right? The infiltrators were easily picked out from our screening processes, mostly thanks to the truth detection macros I’ve managed to put down in various rooms.

“Do you drop all previous and current allegiances and swear your loyalty to the Nexus?”

“Must you, or would you, report your experience in the Nexus back to anyone?”

“Is your arrival here ordered, suggested, or recommended by a superior?”

And boom, we plucked out those who tried to weasel through such questions and gave them a more thorough interrogation. And from there the map of North America got a light rash of markers along the east coast, marking out outposts and bases belonging to the Enclave.

With the collapse of Raven Rock, the organization had effectively fractured. Each facility was mostly running independently now, with a few clusters forming their own factions. Relations between them were still not hostile though, just coldly polite. There were still significant outside threats to deal with, after all.

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But we still got a good trickle of deserters though, especially from bases that had either suffered heavy damage or whose commander was deemed…unlikeable. Those honestly wanting to defect had provided reports of under-equipped, under-manned and overwhelmed positions, as barracks and armories were drained out to resupply and fortify the main strongholds.

And that’s before the web of internal politics came into play. Some deserters came from convoys forcibly rerouted by a rival general wielding the power of his bureaucratic triplicate. Or outposts would simply get emptied out by a nearby base, only to get the same order from another base days later.

The conflict was purely political, with no shooting or bloodshed involved. Orders printed on paper were the weapons used between factions, the similar rank and powers of the generals and senators being the only thing keeping things at a deadlock. Say what you want about them, but the decapitated Enclave were still sticking to their chain of command. So far, no one has tried to be ambitious and forcefully take over their rivals, and judging from the reports we were getting, it was a situation that wouldn’t be changing until someone got serious backing to their claim.

Like the firepower and tech of the Nexus.

It’s nice knowing that you’re popular, but it’d be nicer if these fucks would send a proper diplocatic delegation like everyone else instead of using spies. I mean, even the Institute sent a courser to talk.

Eh, I guess it helps filter out which part of the Enclave gets on my ‘to raze’ list. Or I could start working on proper assassination protocols for the Eversors and Strigoi and let them have fun. Either way, I’ll have to deal with the Enclave eventually.

Not now though.

Because now, as I mulled over the map and went over the reports with Curie and the trained veterans hired in the command room, Eva interrupted with an urgent message.

“Sev, reports from eyebots from sector CW. The Brotherhood of Steel are on the move in force. Headed northeast, most likely along the same route, towards the Nexus.”

Oh, so Lyons either changed her mind or someone else overruled her and decided to volunteer as ash fertiliser.

“Put it up on the screens, Eva.”

The live feed went up, and I was looking at two groups in glinting armor at a rather generous distance from each other, the first group just about leaving the ruins of the Capital Wasteland. Some eyebots zoomed in to get more details, and the strobes of laser beams exchanged at extreme distances between the groups became apparent, along with the clearly different coloration of their armor.

“Huh.” Forgot that the Brotherhood Outcasts were a thing.

“Eva, alert 1st Company and prepare Eversors equal to twice the total bodies of both groups. Steel Rain.”

Hope I’m going there to save Lyons. Would be a shame to have that pretty face as an enemy. At least I hope she’s still alive.

Anyway, time to practice my Boreale.

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