Good To Be Home (A Post Apocalypse Moment)

The last few days had been strenuous, and getting shot hadn't helped, but at least he was home.  The old man decided to sit for a moment after reaching the top of the first ladder.  It had been a long day, more tiring than most.  As he sat there, appreciating the shade, he noticed something that he hadn't seen before.  An inscription, etched into the rock, on the underside of an ancient layer of stone, well protected from the elements, and not readily in view.  "Pin + Lola".  Crudely scraped into the rock, such that each letter was formed from a series of straight lines.  For example, the "O" consisted of four lines making a sort of diamond or crystal shape.

He had noted other such marks over the years, impressed upon "his" little island in the desert.  Each hinted at a bit of the history of his ancient home.  There had certainly been many here before him.  he suspected that the owner of the hand print on the opposite side of the "shelf" might be the oldest.  No doubt an artifact of a Native American, though probably of an older variety than what his contemporaries would have once associated with the term.

Also, there were remnants of the outline of a shield or coat of arms if you will, with the letters "HD" contained within, he wondered if it was simply a fan of motorcycles, or if the perpetrator might have shared the initials.

Just under the lip at the top was a reminder that "Ted waz here", at least once upon a time.  The old man couldn't decide if that one predated his lifetime or not.  It might have been from a century prior.  In one of the crevices along the climb, he had once found five beer cans still held by a plastic binding, the pull tabs were still in place, but all of the cans had corroded at the bottom, and had dispensed their contents prior to the old man's arrival.

After climbing the second ladder, while hoisting it from its perch, his wound ached, and he was more conscious than usual of the ghosts who shared his little mesa.  What was "Pin" short for, and did Lola have green eyes?  He would no doubt ponder these and many other questions for many hours.  He did this from time to time, revisiting the thoughts about the inscriptions, slowly building images in his mind of each "author's" appearance.

Later, as he lay in his makeshift bed, under his makeshift roof, he reached down, picking up the last tomato from the wooden box left by the she-soldier, and imagined the ghosts of Pin and Lola, of Ted, the hand, and others sharing this cool evening on top of the their mesa, and considered that one day, his ghost would join them.  Maybe tomorrow, he would leave his signature for a future resident of the mesa to find.  Or maybe, he would simply leave his ghost.

The Chase - Part 2

This is a sequel to a game played last year.  "The Chase" can be found here.

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The old man took off his orange hat.  There was much commotion at the farmstead; members of the farm clan scurrying about, too many soldiers in too small a space.  He stood in the front room of the dwelling, flanked by two of the soldiers, as the sergeant ordered them to bring him into the next room.

"Move", one of the soldiers pushed him, rather unpleasantly, "go!".  The old man stumbled forward; while the lieutenant reminded the soldier that they served the people, and invited the old man to sit down in a chair.

The old man cracked a smile, and considered that they were in a wasteland, with no nations, no governments, no society really.   Yet there was a soldier pushing the old man around, as if he had any more right to be in charge, than the old man.

"Something funny?"  Asked the sergeant.  Now there was a piece of work.  Litterally.  He seemed a decent man, direct, all business, and sporting hardware not of the wastes.  They called him Sergeant Hand, and the old man wondered if that was actually his name, or if he was named for the cybernetic hand and forearm that the sergeant sported.  He also had a partially fabricated head.  Something you didn't see everyday.

Sergeant Hand.

The sergeant had experienced something very traumatic, losing part of an arm, and part of his skull, only to have have them replaced with fabricated metal parts, integrated with his biology.  An application of technology that was beyond that of the Before, as well as that of the wastes.  The old man was very curious about Sergeant Hand.  He'd have to look into the sergeant more, when he wasn't busy being interrogated.

The mother was conflicted, caught between the joy of having her two young children returned to her, and the horror of realizing that she would not likely see her oldest daughter again.  He watched as the the soldiers received the gratitude for his effort, not that he cared so much as again, he found humor in the situation.

"Well, lets get to it", and the sergeant began the questioning.  The old man explained in detail, how he came across the two young children, who explained that three men had taken their sister and left them in the wastes,  and how the old man had decided to track the kidnappers, with intention of returning all three to the mother.

The Sergeant seemed to think the idea a bit unlikely, asking the old man how he planned to do that.  The old man explaining only that "he would look for an opportunity".  The sergeant was mildly flustered by the response, but didn't give it too much thought.  The old man would simply do what he always did; that which needed done.

As the questioning went on, the old man began to think about the upcoming pursuit.  He could move much faster now that the two little ones wouldn't be tagging along with him.  And the kidnappers were clumsy, leaving  so obvious a trail that a blind man could follow them.  He just needed to wrap the interrogation up.

The soldiers released the old man, even offering him a ride back to New Clovis, though he declined.  He intended to head in a different direction.  He also spoke to the father of the missing girl briefly, asking a little about her, and explaining that he still hoped to find the girl.  

The father had already given up, and looked at the old man blankly, giving short answers to the questions.  The mother finally thanked the old man for his part in returning the children, and continued to alternate between joy and sorrow.

The old man saw the agony in the mother, and saw that the Confederation troops considered the situation resolved.   But it wasn't really; it was left undone, and the old man hoped to still make things right.  He felt sure that he could find the girl, and hoped to return her to her mother.  

Placing his orange hat back on his head, the old man picked up his gear and left the farmstead, trekking back in the direction of the krags.  It took less than a day to pick up the trail of the three men and the girl. For two additional days, he followed through the wastes, as always, enjoying the beauty of the land, frequently reminded by the remnants of critters that had come before him, that they were of the land, and not the reverse.

The table from the southwest.

At one point he came across a dirt road that had seen a lot of travel recently, clearly including vehicles.  He had not seen anything like this in quite a long time, and wondered about it for a bit.  Intrigued, he made note that he would have to return to explore the trail further.

It was getting late, and he decided to make camp; he needed a little rest.  He was after all, an old man.  He lay there in the wastes, staring at the night sky, unchanged through all of his years.  He loved the night sky, when he looked up at it, it took him back to the before, to when he was a child, to what used to be California, all of those years ago.  He wondered what might be there now, if anyone he once cared about might still be alive, and finally, the old man went to sleep. 

He finally caught site of the men on day four, three of them and the girl.  The men were well equipped, conspicuously so, soldiers given their uniforms, but not of the Confederation.  Their equipment was... better, more advanced.  A tremendous anomaly given when and where they were.  These were strangers, and considering their actions, they were very much in a land strange to them.

The three soldiers and the girl.

The old man closed on them for another day, finally getting within rifle range, as the group began to slow their pace.  He sensed that somehow, the journey must be ending, but was at a loss as to how, given that they were in the middle of bone dry nowhere.

The table looking west.

He still hadn't been seen; these men did not know they were being tracked.  They kidnapped a person, left a sloppy trail, and didn't seem to consider that they might be followed.  It was all very odd; they simply weren't where they belonged.

The old man in the wastes.

He climbed up on a rock which gave him some cover, leveled his rifle, and decided to take a shot.  He fired; a clear hit, but the man didn't fall.  The target moved out of view, but the leader came into view,  so the old man fire again.  Another hit, but again, the man simply moved out of view.

Gaining some cover from which to fire.

The group taken under fire from the old man behind them.

He moved off of the rock and found another position, a bit closer to his targets.  They had moved into cover, and after a couple of minutes, one of the men showed himself, mostly concealed, but trying to find the shooter.  The two men fired almost simultaneously, the old man missed, but the stranger did not.  The energy bolt from the laser was partially absorbed by the old man's armor, but still burned intensely.  

The old man recoiled out of view, and investigated the wound.  It was deciedly unpleasent.  But more upset that he missed an easy shot, than that he had been hit, he moved to engage again.  The two men exchanged shots, missing repeatedly.  The old man was clearly affected by the wound.  It had been decades since the last time he missed four consecutive shots.

He was lucky that his adversary was equally ineffective.  The girl and the other two men stayed out of view.  The old man wa pretty sure that they couldn't escape without him seeing them, so he found the situation a little curious.

The group taking cover and exchanging fire.

He moved around, trying to find a position that gave him better advantage, but it was not to be had.  Some minutes passed, and then he saw the man that had been hit first, and fired and missed again.  

Another shot missed the old man, and then something strage happend.  An armored truck came into view.  Like something directly out of the Before.  It moved into a position to give the group some cover, likely allowing them to mount up.  The old man took a shot at the windshield, where he suspected a driver to be.  A hit, but to no effect.  He fired again, this time at a tire, and hit.  Again, with no noticeable effect.

One of the soldiers is the blurry spot at the base of the rock to 

the left, the armored truck comes into view.

A better view of the truck and soldiers.

The vehicle then turned away from him; he fired again, sure that he had hit another tire, again to no effect, and then it was gone.  they were all gone, leaving the old man alone in the wastes.

The truck drives away.

He was tremendously let down; he had failed to rescue the girl.  Something he was sure that he could do.  He just sat there for some time, then further tended to his wound, which looked absolutely nasty.  It was seriously going to leave a mark.

A few days journey, and the old man made his way back to the farmstead, without further encounter, and explained what had happened to the girl's mother.  She seemed to take the information better than he expected.  Maybe hoping that her daughter would live, and maybe even be taken care of at least.

The old man heads home.

The old man intended to explore the origin of the strange soldiers and their armored car further.  Holding on to the chance that he still might find the girl some day.

He spent a night at the farm, then headed home the next day, looking forward to the comfort of his perch atop the little rocky column in the middle of the desert.  He would take a couple of days to heal,  then head into New Clovis, and report his experience to someone there.  He figured the Confederation would probably like to know that they weren't alone in the wastes.

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This game took form a year ago, but took until this past weekend to play as  ideas associated with the game evolved (factions, stories, and models).  I ended up creating or sort of pencil and paper set of "chase" rules, experimeneting with several ideas as components of the game.  The tabletop game came about, once the old man could close on the target.  

It is kind of ironic that so much effort was invested in what turned out to be such a simple and short scenario on the tabletop.

It suspected that given the way it rolled up, that getting the girl back was too much of a reach, and then, when he had the string of missed shots, it was kind of sealed (the old man is an exceptional shot).  The arival of the truck, could have been much more prolonged, but rolled up with almost the shortest wait possible, which really limited the old man.

In any event, the whole process was fun, both the paper and on table chases. And, I got to round out some background for several storylines and factions.  

Coming Out of Their Hole (Post Apoc Fluff)

The following is a continuation of the back story about the Hope Island Research Complex in my post apocalyptic world.

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Since the inhabitants of HIRC (link) had opened their hatch a few years ago, the occupants of HIRC had learned a lot about their new world.  It seemed that the wastes had crept in, a lot more than the advancements of HIRC had changed the wastes, and maybe that was to be expected.  

The complex preserved many of the old ways, preserved the values and technology of the Before, with the intent of slowly helping to restore a little of the order and comfort of a nation from an earlier time.  The first step had been to go out and explore, learn about their neighbors, about the world that unknowingly surrounded them.

When the decision was made to go forth, the first steps were tenuous, as almost no one had been under open skies in thirty years.  After testing the air, captain Vega took off his helmet, and felt wind on his face for the first time.  He was immediately overwhelmed by the vast openness of the landscape, uncomfortable, and unprepared for the sensation.  He looked up at the clear blue sky with awe... and ... a surprising and momentarily incapacitating fear.  

And when the projectile hit the armor protecting his chest, he didn't even realize that he had just been shot.  Fortunately, members of his team noticed, and reacted accordingly.  Returning fire on the gang that had happened upon them.

The fight was brief, the dwellers of the bunker, all protected by advanced armor, were relatively impervious to the weapons of the gangers.  They returned fire accurately, methodically even , and killed their new found adversaries in seconds.  The first encounter with the locals had been had, and established what would become a recurring theme.  The wastes were a dangerous place, and as bad as things could be, people were still more than willing to kill one another.

Not every venture outside the comfort of the complex had been so hostile.  The bunker dwellers intent was friendly, and for now, passive.  They were learning, collecting data, with which to better formulate and execute their plan.

They had been collecting data for decades, but extensive first hand contact would still be needed to understand what could be done.  They had established some trade with local small communities, but the region was incredibly volatile.

In addition to the challenges of interacting with the outside world.  A new recurring problem came to be, in the form of bunker inhabitants trying to "escape" the bunker.  Life was very comfortable and safe inside the bunker, but regimented and restricted in many ways.  

Despite it's resources, one shortage that befell HIRC was population.  The bunker inhabitants were few, and particularly after the end of the Before, the bunker experienced a very low birth rate for some years, resulting initially in negative population growth.  

Effort was made to restrict excursions outside the bunker, with all missions supervised by military escort.  There was an increasing sense of bunker inhabitants being "prisoners" in their underground home, as the leadership tried to carefully preserve and slowly grow their numbers.  

In time, HIRC began to establish small outposts with hope of creating a sphere of influence, and also searching for prospective new inhabitants.  Mistakes were made, and as such, these efforts were not always successful.  Still, HIRC did it's best, working with the resources at hand, under circumstances more extreme than anyone in the Before had imagined.

Vehicles For My Post Apoc Bunker Faction Completed*

The High Mobility Armored Transports (HiMATs) are light armored utility vehicles for my bunker dwellers. Capable of withstanding small arms fire, they provide transportaion for the bunker's inhabitants when exploring the wastes, or extending olive branches to the less fortunate survivors in the After.

They come with or without an armored turret, and can mount a range of medium and heavy weapons.  They can also accommodate eight occupants with about two weeks of survival rations and supplies. 

Drive is provided by two electric motors (one to each axle) via batteries and solar panels.  They are equipped with air purification and NBC contamination sensors, and can purify drinking water as well.  Other features include assive night driving aids and GPS navigation that can link to GPS satilites that are stil in operation.

Here are a couple pics of the beasts:

* Actually, I'm not sure that they are complete, but they are at least serviceable on the table top.  They may get some more detailing in the future.

Hope Island Research Complex (Post Apoc Fluff)

The Hope Island Research Complex was conceived in the late 1970s as a secure facility, proof to nuclear attack, that would focus on the ability to develop technology during and after a large scale nuclear attack or other catastrophic event.

Built beneath more than 13,000 feet of rock, it was the largest of the Cold War era US bunkers.  Capable of housing thousands of people, it was primarily designed for scientists and their families, as well as smaller government and military contingents.  The facility included living, research, communications and production facilities, and extensive supply and raw material storage.

Research and technology companies were partners in the production and operation of the facility, which actively operated during peacetime.  Normal operations were limited to research and development of new technology, and the site was a test bed for budding technology, such as the first functional fusion reactor.

Known as "HIRC",  "The Complex",  "The Bunker", and early on as "The Brain Pit", it continued operation during the decline of the United States, though proved to not be immune to the effects of the decline and associated chaos of the Before.

As the situation in the US and the world became truly critical, disaffected medical researchers released a biotoxin in the facility, leading to a number of deaths, and rendering large portions of the complex unusable at the time it was most needed. Thus, a relatively small population was present when the complex was locked down.

Despite the size of its population, operation of the facility was managed, and eventually the biotoxin was cleaned from the entire facility.  Inside the complex, life continued in relative comfort and security.  Contact was maintained with other government facilities until one by one, most stopped responding.

The devolving world situation was continuously monitored and documented.  Rare excursions, called "going topside" collected data about the surroundings of the complex, though for decades, most of the inhabitants did not see the outside world.

Over time, the complex evolved its own government and culture, but continued to generally follow the intended purpose of finding solutions to problems that came with the apocalypse.  At such time that it was directed, the plan was that HIRC would introduce its technologies to the post apocalyptic world with the intent of helping to restore order and re-establishing the nation.

HIRC maintained contact with, and monitored activity of other outposts from the Before.  There were at least three surviving outposts (there were also several others) that potentially had legal authority on behalf of the former US government, though the issue was obviously quite muddy.  None of these appeared to be following the proper protocol, and HIRC did not receive the direction that it awaited, even after the conditions had been met for the direction to be initiated.  

After much debate, the leadership of HIRC decided that it was time to begin its mission topside,  opening a new chapter in the history of what was once known as the United States of America.

Progress on Post Apoc Vehicles

Hobby time has been at a premium this week, but I did squeeze in 15-20 minutes most evenings to keep these moving along.  Most of the work involved building the turrets and weapons; otherwise, work was pretty minimal.  I got a base color of paint on them today, and re-assembled.  Detail painting and a little weathering will come over the next week, I hope.  Here's a couple of pics:

After thinking about it a bit, I've decided to keep them pretty clean, since these are essentually brand new vehicles, built in a high-tech underground facility, and being used for the first time in the post apocalypse.

They will certainly make exploring the planet's surface safer and more comfortable than wandering about on foot for the bunker dwellers.

WIP: Vehicles For My Post Apoc Bunker Faction

I've been looking for some 1/43-ish light military vehicles for my post apoc bunker faction for a few months now, something along the lines of Humvees or M-ATVs.  Unfortunately, pretty much all that I found were collectors diecasts in the $30-70 dollar range and Humvee kits at around $25 a pop.  I was hoping for something a bit less expensive, as I wanted 2-3 of them.

By chance, I found some diecast GAZ TIGRs at a grocery store a couple of weeks back for about $6 each in roughly 1/48th scale.  They are actually reasonably detailed models, and the front doors open.

Diecast GAZ TIGRs from the grocery store.

For now, I took two of them, diassembled them and drilled out the roof hatch to receive small turret with opening hatches. I plan a few additional modifications, before re-painting them.  Here are a couple of WIPs:

With the diecast roof hatchs drilled out and filed.

With new hatches in process.

The plan is that one will have a light auto-cannon, in this case a modified GW Cadian heavy weapon, and the other will have a lighter weapon of some sort, maybe a sort of machinegun laser.  Otherwise, they will get some solar panels to recharge their batteries,  rear bumpers, some stowage, etc.

I'm hoping to get paint on them by next weekend.

More Vietnam Aircraft Progress

My hobby time has really diminished over the last couple of weeks. I'm still piddling along with the 1/72 Vietnam aircraft, and am surprised at how much time I've spent making truly unremarkable models.  They will be fine for gaming though.

The canopy for my OV-10 ended up being a disaster.  The side glass was warped, and and in trying to get the parts to fit, I managed to craze the plastic through bending, and then got solvent in spots that clouded the clear plastic as well.  I tried polishing it our with Brasso, which helped some, but wasn't going to remove all of the mess, and gave up on saving the clear canopy.  So frustrated, I briefly considered just tossing the whole thing out, but after a couple of days, painted it blue instead.  It looks like crap, but it is functional.  Here's a pic: 

OV-10A Bronco

I also got the glass into the pair of UH-1B gunships.  They came out a little better:

A pair of UH-1B Gunships

And here is a CH-34:

CH-34C/D

Sometime back, I tried using magnets on my 1/100 scale African planes for mounting to aircraft stands, but when one of my boxes tipped over, I ended up with several 1/100 scale  models being attached at the magnets.  I lucked out and only a couple of scuffs and scrapes resulted, but decided to mount nails in my models in the future and leave the magnets in the stands.

I made a prototype stand for Vietnam, using a 4" square base base, but discovered that the 4"  base is overkill relative to the weight of the models, so cut a couple more 3" square bases.

The stand is made of a telescoping magnet tool, mounted to a weighted plastic base.  The base consists of two pieces of 1/4 inch plexiglass/acrylic solvent welded together.  The top piece is center drilled for a screw to pass through, that threads into the end of the magnet tool (you can unscrew the end of the magnet tool, and remove the pocket clip).  I replaced the original screw in the tool with a slightly longer one to accommodate the thickness of the plastic base.  The bottom layer has a big hole milled out with a Dremmel.  Once the two pieces are fused together, the magnet tool is screwed into place, a ring of tubing is cut and glued in place to protect the screw head, and lead shot is superglued in place to fill the the hole in the second plate, giving the base enough heft to secure larger aircraft when the tool is extended.

New stand with 4" base.

Underside of the base, showing the shot and plastic ring 

protecting the screw head.

New stand with parts for the 3" square based stand.

My original stands had "x" shaped bases to more readily fit in between terrain pieces, but this turned out to be more work than it was worth, so I've gone with square bases for the newer stands.

My original "x" stand with the newer 4" square based stand.

 I'm making progress.  Though at this rate, I'll be finished with these some time next year.

6mm French Aircraft for 1940

I've finished about half of the 6mm French aircraft for 1940.  Unfortunately, I ran out of the smaller roundels, so am currently awaiting another sheet from Flight Deck Decals.  Here are the completed fighters:

A pair of D-510s and two MB 152.

Two Potez 631,

Four D 520 and two MS406 (rear),

I'll finish the bombers when additional decals arrive.

Some Cold War Campaign Thoughts

I was back to applying decals to 1/72 Vietnam aircraft last night, and while doing so,found my thoughts drifting to my 1958 Cold War Campaign.  I been feeling the urge to continue with it again, and have been considering what battle to do next.  

I coud continue with more BAOR battles with the Soviet 10th guard Tank Division pushing against the British 6th Armored.  This would involve mostly fresh forces  on both sides in the near term, and might involve crossing the first water obstacle.  Or, I could move a little north to ballance out the front, again with British and Soviet armored divisions in the rainy openness of the North German plain.  Either way, these battles will be tougher for the British forces, than in the last, as they still won't have the availability of air support (rain and low cloud  deck), nor the Conqueror heavy tanks, so those T-10s are going to be a tough nut to crack.  I suspect that the next couple of British battles will be a little of a let down, when compared to the last.

Another thought would be to do the first contact between the West Germans and Soviets.  This intrigues me, but given the weather conditions and probable lack of air support, I fear that the West Germans are in for a really tough day.  The West German forces are very new,  limited to M47 tanks in their heaviest forces, and have only soft skin Borgward infantry carriers,.  At this point, they are just a lot lighter than their Soviet counterparts.

I'd like to sink my teeth into another very intense, very involved (multi-day to play) battle, but I suspect that I will have some considerable learning curve, before  giving the West Germans a fair showing, and again, may not get the game that I am looking for.

Regardless of my apprehension, I am again wanting more battles from my 1958 campaign, and have placed a small order from Heroics and Ros to fill in some support and command voids for both my British and Soviet forces.  This will give a few weeks to finish applying decals to aircraft, and complete a small post apoc project, but I'll save that for another post.

1940 German 6mm Aircraft

I finally got decals on the 1940 6mm German aircraft that I painted earlier in the year.  This was supposed to be a Christmas break project last year, but things don't always go as planned.  Here are some pics:

All 14 aircraft.

Me-110 to the left, Bf-109E lower right, and Ju-87 Stuka in 

the upper right.

He-111 left, Do-17 lower right, Ju-87s at the top.

Me-110 upper left, and the other pair of Bf-109Es, center and right.

I'm working on the French now, with 8 of 21 aircraft done.  Hope to post pics by the weekend.