Post by Mallory Faraday on Oct 2, 2020 1:18:19 GMT
Mal read the scout reports. No activity from the southwest so Frank was keeping to his turf and keeping calm. Gasoline and oil found in the north, a few more army trucks found and brought in along with a couple of humvees... Then Mal read part of a strange report of a weird totem found in the northwest made of... fishbones? She was just about to read up on it until someone knocked on her door. "Come in." Mal said, then was saluted by a militia hopeful, Kellen, who was too young to serve for now, but made himself useful around the headquarters still.
"At ease." Mal said, hearing out the boy about the newcomers. "Send them in please."
A latina woman entered and Mal couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the dog all enthusiastic. Mal loved dogs and seeing this one reminded her to start a breeding program for dogs for the militia. Still, as much as she loved them though she hoped this one wouldn't make pee in excitement, otherwise the woman's first task would be cleaning up after the dog. She introduced herself as Ysabel, Troy's fiancée and it made Mal's eye widen and her mouth move before her brain told her to.
"What!?" Mal spoke. "Oh boy..."
Mallory remembered Troy speaking about Ysabel before, and how Roger was supposed to have killed her on Frank's order but didn't. Mal was glad to see the woman she had heard about was still alive only Mal had factored in the fact that by now Troy had already made some serious 'boomboom' with Sara Ramirez. Sara was away with her friends true, although Mal was already foreseeing the necessary trouble should she return. Sara had some powerful friends after all, trained by Mal herself no less. It seemed Troy was up shit's creek and it looked like Mal had done him a favor by making him stay at the dam for now. Mal took a deep breath, best not to mention anything to Ysabel for now.
"I'm captain-commander Mallory Faraday." Mal introduced herself. "Since you're not part of the militia you can call me Mal. I came here with Troy from Georgia, I owe him my life many times over and I wouldn't have made it home without him. Troy's currently overseeing works at a dam about an hour's drive from here."
Mal eyed the woman up. How did people manage to still dress up sexy like that? Was this some kind of post-apocalyptic chic she hadn't heard of yet? And why the hell was she caring about looking good in the apocalypse?
"Anyway, suffice to say I know about your... troubles with the MC." Mal continued. "And you don't need to fear, Troy and the others that stayed have completely broken with Frank. Frank and his goons are far enough away and they can't move without us knowing about it. You're completely safe here. I understood you also have a daughter?"
Mal and Ysabel were interrupted again when Private Mosley entered the room and brought a fresh can of coffee and a couple of mugs. Still, if he wanted to join the militia and serve he'd have to learn these kind of intrusions couldn't pass. For now though, he'd get off lightly as he wasn't officially a militia member just yet.
"Private Mosley?" Mal spoke.
"Yes ma'am?" Kellen answered.
"I understand your hands were full with the tray, but you still have to knock and wait for permission before entering a superior officer's quarters."
"Oh sh...! I'm sorry ma'am!"
"It's alright, you can make mistakes now. Just keep it in mind for the future because once you're old enough to join up and we swear you in, I have to berate you for these kind of offenses."
"Again, I'm sorry ma'am! My apologies!"
Private Mosley started pouring coffee in the cups but when Mal noticed he was trembling Mal took his hand and made him put the coffee can down.
"Hey, you're doing fine kiddo." Mal said. "Don't worry about what just happened. Now take a breath, put what just happened behind you and relax. You're doing well."
Mal gave Kellen a smile who seemed to relax a bit after her intervention. He was able to pour the coffee and set up the milk and sugar. Then, he calmly left the room.
"Please." Mal said to Ysabel as she gestured to take the coffee. "It's actual cow milk and the sugar may look nasty but it's made from beets and it works."
Mal helped herself and waited until Ysabel was done helping herself to the coffee as well before continuing on.
"Anyway, on to business." Mal spoke. "If you're gonna be living here, there's rules of course. Like there are with all places. We're currently working on an actual law book but until then we have a charter, I suggest you find one and you read it. In short; you mess up you pay for it in work credits. We sentence everyone by the amount of service credits that needs to be fulfilled. Depending on the severity of your crime we will decide whether or not you can go home while fulfilling your sentence. Only murder means capital punishment; you take a life and you pay for it with yours. And we do not waste bullets so don't expect it to be quick."
Mal always did like to have the unpleasant stuff out of the way first. Luckily up until now there hadn't been any crimes, and the ones working off their sentences were the ones who had collaborated with Big Dick. She took a swig from the coffee so Ysabel could let it sink in for a moment before continuing.
"Anyway, that's crime and punishment." Mal continued. "On to living here; we provide housing and food for you and your family. Meals are served free of charge three times a day. Everybody works for the community. As such, you'll be paid in service credits which you can use to spend around town. But don't mistake this place for a labor camp; you'll have plenty of downtime and you can use your service credits to buy days of vacations. If you join the militia you get more service credits per hour and vacation days are free, but as you might imagine the risk is greater and they put their lives on the line for the community on a daily basis."
Mal sure was glad Ziggy had pitched that monetary idea to her, and that she helped her figure it out. In no time they had come up with an economic system that would get people to work.
"We also provide schooling for children." Mal continued. "Keep in mind though that apart from academics, we also teach kids how to handle firearms and other weapons along with survival techniques once they're old enough. We deem it necessary for our children so that it may not be necessary anymore for their children, or grandchildren. But as long as the dead and other fiends roam the world, it's important they know how to fight them."
It wasn't a popular decision, and Mal had gotten quite some flaming comments from angry parents, but it was not-negotiable. The children of today were still going to live in a dangerous world, and they needed to know how to survive in it.
"Then on to weapons." Mal spoke. "You will be given one harpoon per family member, which you can turn in free of charge should they need sharpening or other maintenance. You are of course allowed to keep weapons you might already have in your possession, although the community will not provide for their upkeep and ammunition. You are however able to buy maintenance products, parts and accessories with service credits for your weapon. Extra ammunition for your personal firearms will also cost you service credits. We also have a surplus of gear and clothing, along with more... 'luxury' items I would call them... such as bulletproof vests and fancy knives, but keep in mind I have made the shopkeepers put a very steep price on those so if you fancy buying items like that, it's gonna take you a lot of work."
Mal thought about if she was forgetting something... she had covered everything, hadn't she? Oh wait, there was one more thing.
"And then onto the final rule." Mal said. "If the settlement is under attack by hostile forces or the dead, everyone aged sixteen or above mans the walls and barricades. This is also non-negotiable. We have a formidable militia but when we're under attack it's all hands on deck and you help out in whatever way you can, whether we shove a gun in your hands and tell you to start shooting or we give you needle and thread to stitch up the wounded."
Mal finished her coffee. They really needed to refine the sugar from the beets better.
"So Ysabel, do you have questions?" Mal asked. "I'd be happy to answer them. If not, we should start to talk about your job assignment and housing."
Mal leaned back and entangled her hands onto her chest. She hoped everything was clear to Ysabel and if not she'd explain. As far as housing went, she had houses to spare and a binder full of addresses.