Atlas raised an eyebrow, surprised at Olivia’s sudden announcement. "What do you mean we need to talk about the Belief Settlement? They're paying their coins."

Olivia shook her head. "That's not the issue. The Faith Settlement seems to be attacking them, but I don’t have many details."

Atlas's mind filled with possibilities. They had been receiving 100 coins a day for the prisoners of war—700 coins so far, with much more owed. "Who told you about this?" he asked concisely.

"I’ve sent for the messenger when I saw you return," Olivia explained. "He should be here soon. Maybe he can fill in the gaps. He didn’t have much to tell me earlier."

The messenger soon arrived, his face pale with nerves. It was his first time seeing Atlas in person, and despite having seen him on the Red Fairy’s projections before, meeting him face-to-face felt surreal. Atlas had become something of a wasteland celebrity, and the presence of two trolls by his side only made the moment more intimidating. Portilla and Crusher looked friendly enough, but ‘What's friendly for a troll?‘ the messenger wondered, swallowing hard.

"Mr. Atlas, sir," the messenger stammered, "we're under attack, and we have a treaty. We’re hoping you’ll come join us."

Olivia interjected before Atlas could respond. "Actually, they don’t have a defense treaty with us, Atlas. It's just a non-aggression pact. We have no obligation to help them."

The color drained from the messenger’s face. He hadn’t known that, and now feared Atlas would be furious, thinking he had been misled. But Atlas didn’t seem to notice the messenger’s fear. Instead, he calmly asked, "How do you know you’re being attacked?"

The messenger gulped and explained, "We sent out an army under Major Cromwell two days ago, but they just came back—what’s left of them. The army was destroyed."

Atlas narrowed his eyes. "Destroyed? How big was the army?"

"Two hundred people, sir," the messenger replied.

Atlas whistled. "What kind of force can wipe out two hundred soldiers?"

"It was the Faith Settlement, sir," the messenger said, his voice trembling. "We think it’s the French army. Second Lieutenant Stevens told us that’s what he believes."

Atlas shook his head, confused. "That makes no sense. The French and British armies are both part of the United Armies of Earth. Are you saying they attacked you?"

The messenger hesitated. "Well, they didn’t attack us directly. They sent out flares, so we went to link up with them... but we were betrayed. The army was slaughtered."

"That’s bad," Atlas said grimly. "And you think they’re coming for the Belief Settlement next?"

"We’re almost certain," the messenger replied. "They chased our survivors all the way to the edge of ghoul territory before retreating. We think they’ll attack in the next few days."

Atlas rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "I'll have to consider this. Thanks for delivering the message."

The messenger shifted awkwardly, unsure whether to leave. Meeting a legend like Atlas had been overwhelming, and the trolls' presence didn’t help. Atlas, noticing his hesitation, asked, "Have you had dinner? You could eat here before heading back."

The messenger shook his head. "No, but I really need to return. Oliver and second lieutenant Stevens are waiting for a reply. When should I tell them to expect one?"

Atlas sighed, "I can’t give you a definite answer tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll send someone with our decision."

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"Yes, sir," the messenger said with a quick nod, before making his way out of Fort Bone. He returned to the teleportation area, activated his return stone, and vanished with a soft ‘bloop‘.

‘‘‘‘

After the messenger left, Atlas turned to Olivia, “Olivia, do you think we should call a council for this?”

“I definitely think we should, Atlas. This isn’t something I can decide as head of diplomacy,” she replied.

Atlas flashed a grin, slipping into his Captain Picard impression. “Make it so.”

Olivia rolled her eyes but couldn't help a small smile. ‘That Atlas, always finding time for a joke. Even when life and death are at stake.‘ She shook her head. ‘Maybe it's how he keeps himself from going crazy in this wasteland. Either way, we need his focus now more than ever.‘

As they called the settlement leadership together, word spread quickly. Mohammed, ever eager for power, tried to insert himself into the meeting. He was immediately turned away by the guards though, grumbling about how they’d regret it soon enough. His anger was barely hidden as he stormed off, but no one gave him more than a second glance.

***

Inside the meeting room, Atlas stood at the head of the table, glancing at the faces of his team. This meeting wasn't just about what was best for the Belief Settlement. It was about the future of Fort Bone and everyone under their protection. His mind raced, turning over each scenario. ‘The United Army of Earth attacking their own people? That’s new.‘ He felt an odd tension in his chest. He didn’t like surprises, and this was a big one.

“All right, Olivia,” he said, snapping out of his thoughts. “Give them the breakdown.”

Olivia stood up, her usual calm demeanor on full display. She recounted the messenger’s story—the destruction of the army, the potential attack in a few days. When she finished, she laid it out clearly, "So, we have two options. A, we help the Belief Settlement and fight off a possible incursion from the Faith Settlement. Or B, we do nothing."

The room erupted into discussion. Each voice added to the chaos, as the weight of the decision settled in like a heavy fog.

Isabella, who was in charge of Fort Bone's security, leaned forward, her voice steady but firm. “I don’t like this at all. The Faith Settlement has never made a move like this before. If they’re attacking their own people, we might be next on their list. We need to help.”

‘Of course, she'd say that,‘ Atlas thought. Isabella always had her eye on threats, but that didn't mean she was wrong. If they ignored this, they could find themselves alone when the Faith Settlement eventually turned their eyes toward Fort Bone.

Alexander, ever practical, rubbed his chin and spoke up next. “Well, I ain’t sayin’ we should go jumpin’ into someone else’s mess, but Isabella’s got a point. We let them Faith folks get too strong, they’ll roll right over us someday, and we ain’t gonna be ready for it.”

His rural accent cut through the room, a stark contrast to the others. “I’ve seen folks get too full of themselves before, back on the farm. Think they’re invincible till someone bigger knocks ‘em down. If we don’t step in, we might be lettin’ them get too big for their britches.”

Atlas nodded slightly. He appreciated Alexander's straightforwardness. ‘He’s got that no-nonsense way of looking at things. Keeps us grounded.‘

John, always the steady second-in-command, leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, we do have that non-aggression treaty. We’re not bound to help them. We’re not obligated to send our people into a fight that doesn’t concern us.”

He paused, scanning the room. “And honestly, if the Faith Settlement has a force strong enough to wipe out two hundred soldiers, we need to think very carefully before getting involved. This isn’t just some minor skirmish.”

‘John's right,‘ Atlas thought. ‘But there’s more at play here than just treaties.‘

Barbara, still getting used to her role as head of the MASH unit, looked concerned. “And if we do go to war, I’m going to need more supplies. A lot more. We’re still recovering from the last big engagement, and we don’t have the medical stores to support another full-scale conflict. If we lose people in this, it’ll be on us. We need to be careful.”

Her words hung in the air, and Atlas could feel the room shift. Everyone was weighing the consequences. The responsibility of it all felt heavy in his chest. ‘No matter what we decide, there will be a price to pay.‘

The conversation slowed, and Atlas leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he considered everything. ‘Do we risk losing soldiers to protect a settlement that may not even survive? Or do we stand by and wait for the Faith Settlement to come knocking on our door?‘

He drummed his fingers against the table, letting the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke.

“Well,” he finally said, “it seems like we’re all leaning toward the same thing. But I need to sleep on it. We’ll make a decision in the morning. For now, let's be prepared for both options.

This wasn’t an easy decision for anyone, and no matter what they chose, there was no perfect solution.

He stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Let’s stay sharp. We might not have much time before something comes to our doorstep.”

‘‘‘‘‘